Gay has a doctor’s appointment almost every day
bone specialist, heart surgeon, eye doctor for old Gay
Goes from appointment to appointment hoping to find something wrong
Breaking a bone or two would have her singing a joyful song
She has had seventeen colonoscopies this year
plus, several surgeries, next year they’ll rebuild her ear
there she goes now to another doctor appointment I’ll bet
I heard that she is demanding to have her unbroken arm set.
large is love abound
pigmy sweethearts muddied found~
with g
a y
a
b
a
n d
o n
Atop a bed of plastic
In a house made of bone
I am helpless to feel Rome’s revival
Men become sheep and wolves
Crusaders line up for war
Careless toward their fellow heretic
Houses burn
Stone pillars rise from foundations
All as the sands of time bury the path forward
Yet even as they do, water still runs in the bath house
Long herbaceous desert
I ride your arid roads
perfect for catching up
word games, banter erupts
gay moments make new paths
time gently d r i f t s a
w
a y
What if you are an emerald empath
With the ability to feel cries or laughs
That are like energy with a spiritual path
That give insight unique to mental maths
You may be of one fuchsia faith or maybe not
But the soul is being bathed by another heart
A two spirited person not evil nor innocent
Feelings like a surgeon cutting from within
What if they were reborn and feel so confused
By memories so silver strong of another truth
You hear their heart breaking like glass so blue
No one can understand their pain except you
Chaos in my heart has nothing to do with faith
Not about which golden God you happen to pray
Not at all about if you’re ***** gay or straight
But can you be kind despite being inclined
To judge and walk away
If our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours— Radclyffe Hall
Explore themes of love and identity
Of Stephen Gordon’s innate sense of masculinity
Since a child, her desire, ‘women’
The idea that if love is considered a sin
The unfolding of a female sexual invert
The act of loving must be a tender selfless act, revert?
Love itself is not inherently sinful or
complexities of love, we shan’t ignore
But rather the circumstances surrounding it
Misfits from Malvern to London and then to Paris!
Ira furor brevis, the frailty, taboo and strife
Fellow q***r characters, all walks of life
From the *sapphic salon hostess Valérie Seymour
To the 'miserable army' and more
of outcasts that frequents the 'merciless
Drug-dealing, death-dealing' bars of Montmartre
Written in another time, still support and solidarity to
generations of LGBTQ genre
*Sapphic is an umbrella term for same-gender loving women or woman-aligned people, including lesbians and bisexual+ women. It is used to describe topics, activities, and ideas related to same-sex attraction among women. The term can also refer to the Greek lyric poet Sappho.
I am a rainbow kid
I take pride in who I am
And embrace the crown as I am
These colors I embrace,
This rainbow, running through my blood stream.
They call it debased,
But, I call it redeemed.
My identity I embrace,
Out of the ordinary,
I've Created my own special place.
Showing a full display to the world,
Freely,
Unapologetic,
And delightedly
I know its a lot to ask and you know I love this community but I've joined a challenge over on Vocal media's Pride community so if you have the time I'd like to ask you to go and read it maybe vote for it. I've included the link . Thank you for your consideration.
In Grandma's house it was always fun and gay,
It always was a sunny day,
Going through that old front door,
Grandma calling do you want some more,
Come and have a cup of tea,
Have a biscuit, no take three.
Grandpa is out by his pond.
Watching his goldfish of who he is very fond,
Auntie is there shelling peas,
And Grandma's made a cup of tea.
The Children are playing out the front,
Over in the woods there is a leopard hunt,
Uncle is watching from the step,
The coalman is due, but he's not here yet,
On Sunday Amy is due at three,
And Grandma's made a cup of tea.
Grandpa takes the dog for a walk,
Come on in Amy we can have a talk,
Come and sit down and we will light the fire,
And then we'll have a cup of tea.
In that home where we all were born,
It was always happy and never forlorn,
Now it has gone but in our minds we see,
All the family sitting and having tea.
What did I take away
from summer camp?
Not COVID
this year,
nor the clap
of one hand ringing.
But, instead
a more resilient health
of authentic sacred wealth
TransFormative dance
singing integrity's great
synergetic
bromance.
Polyphonic men
mind and body embracing
polypathic gods
re-imaging polytheistic goddesses
engaging all us in-between
communal transubstantiations.
My own spirited mind
and strong natured body
transition
has not been solely limited by Others'
lack of win/win imagination
But also,
perhaps primarily
and primally,
by my own
win straight mind
lose ***** body
trauma story,
His-poled v Her-holed history
Mind blaming
and body shaming
Left hemisphere's lack
of co-passioned pleasuring
Right-now transcendent
peak co-empathic mystery
More resiliently inquiring--
What transformative longing
does bromance take away
from summer's sacred belonging
mind and body camp?
i see the way you look at him,
holding his hand,
kissing him,
and i see you’ve been cursed.
cursed to love a man you never truly loved,
cursed to lose the girl who gave you butterflies.
if you were a boy,
you said, so many years ago,
i think i’d want to kiss you.
so unsure of yourself in your sentences
out of fear of being cursed with a life sentence
damnation, you said.
but how could a love so sweet be so wrong.
how cruel for a sixteen year old girl to hear these words,
i cut my hair,
i bound my chest,
i made myself a reflection of who the world wanted,
in order for us to be together.
i waited for you.
but time did not wait for us, my dear,
your parents laughed when you brought me home to meet them,
then their laughs turned to violence
when they saw us
said we were cursed,
laying with the devil
they turned your bright green eyes into
swollen shades of blues and purples.
now, nearly twenty years later,
i see you with him,
saccharine smiles,
absorbing his touch
like a reluctant sponge.
heartbreak is not nearly strong enough a word for this kind of pain.
my love,
we were never cursed,
the world was.
Does it all matter?
That I am gay, I am a lesbian?
Does it all matter?
that I am transgender, I am Intersexual?
or rather Asexual?
tell me,
Why does it matter
how I walk,
How I dress,
How I speak.
Is my confidence threatening you perhaps?
That you want to crush my spirit so bad
with silly questions and remarks.
I am a she, she is a she
and the bravery of asking "who is the man in the relationship"
I mean...?
Can't you see the breast breathing out the chest?
He being a he, dating a he
and you still ask the same question " who is the woman in a relationship"
I mean...?
Do ya'll understand what sexuality is?
Do ya'll understand its fluidity?
However, it shouldn't even matter to you what gender anyone is attracted to
It is their life afterall,
Go clear your confusions in encyclopedias
In CAPS this is my conclusion,
It is none of your business who I attract,
and it is none of your business who I am attracted to.
Perhaps this is the kind of letter you have been waiting to recieve
SEXUALITY is FLUID.
As The Rising Sun, The Dawn Came In Softly & Slowly;
&
So Did My Suffering.
Maybe Unexplained Or Unexpected Feelings;
Which Have Been Ignored;
A Sudden Melancholy Skulking In The Silence;
Awaiting The Arrival Of This Day.
The Days Have Regrettably Passed Since We Parted Ways;
About 4 Years Ago, & I Now Wonder If There Was Anything I Could Have Done;
I May Not Have Needed To Spend As Much Time In The Closet;
I Probably Need To Have Paid Closer Attention To How You Felt About Being Anonymous;
Or;
To Anything Else That Would Have Kept You By My Side;
I Am Sorely Missing You Right Now.
My Thoughts Are Hitting Barriers, & My Tears Are Falling Like Waterfalls;
All With Photographs Of You;
Including Your Wild Hairstyles;
Wild Kissing Technique;
All-Gleaming Beard;
Lovely Eyes;
Beautiful Voice;
Undetectable Abs;
&
Silly Smiles.
The Monotonous Music You Listened To In Your Place;
I Can Still Hear Them Playing In My Head From When I Visited;
I Still Occasionally Hear Them In My Brain;
Which Is Shocking, But I Genuinely Miss You & Those Awful Songs.
I am not allowed to be it
Not allowed to show it
Can't be visible
Can't be seen
Be anyone
Wash me
Hide me
Cover me up
Pretend I am someone that I am not
Pretend that I am some sorta of actor in a film
Someone new
Someone who can hold their own
Why is it a crime?
All I want is to be on time
Like everyone else is
Just to love
And be loved
I will be locked away
Throw away that key
They will mistreat you
And hold you to ransom
Batter you
Kick you
Until you have nothing left in your tank
Learn to be ashamed of it
Self - shame
And self - harm
I can't help it
I am it
I love it
I can't change my mind
I am like this
This is it
It is me
Within my DNA
Part of me
Can't be me
Is it a crime
Locked up for a long time
Never see that sunlight
Sunrise
Fresh air
Feel that touch
Feel those lips
Touching mine
Are we divided with deliberation,
so split into good and bad,
into black and white?
Are we a racist creation?
Is war a deliberation,
seen by some as good, others as bad?
Is it a mood that is our creation,
put here deliberately, so to divide?
Blood is red, whether skin is black or white.
I gay, I straight, I somewhere in between.
Yet all our red hearts say:
bah-bom, bah-bom, bah-bom.
Gay, straight, black, white
and colours of a rainbow?
Am I to be mocked for wishing
to see our many-coloured hands unite?
(10 Jan 2004)
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