FIRE AND ICE

It began as a whisper, a promise

The calmest of voices whispered my dreams into my ears

And like a child on Christmas eve, I hearkened to it

I believed you

You began to linger slowly through the decay of time

Like a vine snake in a meadow, you slithered

Each day bringing you closer to your sinister plan

And with each passing day, the change became apparent

Frailness overtook me, threatening to shatter the very core of my existence

Like a virus, you spread through me faster than wild fire

You infected me with your poison

I was helpless

Carl’s Existentialism VI

Is it crazy that some of my favorite poems are about death and finding solitude? Maybe it is because I’m not overly exposed to a wide variety of poetry. Or it’s because there is something about loneliness that attracts me. Perhaps, it is the safety and comfort it offers, with the satisfaction that no one can hurt me in my bubble. Or maybe it’s my sheer curiosity, born out of nothingness.

Two of my favorite poems right now are I Am! by John Clare and Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye.

From I Am!, my favorite part is:

HIDDEN PLACE

I dropped the covers

On living the life I never existed in

Shut the doors and hid

It never crossed his mind

I lived in that cozy little inn

A place imaginary but real

Door creaked

Pulled fiercely

Frowns of laughter

Filled the town

Misery called his name

Stigma pushed him out

Anger and Strength walked in hand-in-hand

Fingers became brave

Courage now my feet

Door smashed and I walked through

I tore the covers

As I laughed

The world I knew was shocked to see

The rainbow I came to be

Written by Richard Moore

The Day I Find Out My Son Is Gay

FOREWORD: This poem was adapted by Teflondon from an originally written poem by Okina Idek, titled ‘If My Son Were To Be Gay’, and originally published on thelmathinks.com.

*

The day I find out my son is gay

I will get on my knees and pray

Ask God to give him strength

For on this earth, Gay equals pain

I will call on him, I will say:

Son, I know it is who you are

But in society, we all play parts

No one will understand you being gay

They will fight you and break you

Hover and dim the brightness that is your light

They will discriminate against and incriminate you

They will judge and barricade you from happiness

They will not rest, son. No, they won’t.

But strive not to give up who you are

Questions Of The Heart

WRITER’S NOTE: This poem is dedicated to the moment I first ached to meet a hookup from Grindr, and to all those moments everyone reading this has desired that someone on the other side of the chatversation whom they’ve desired without meeting.

*

Why do I think of you?

Why do I wonder what you are up to?

Why do I care what goes on with you

When you and I have never met

Is this love or lust

Or loneliness crying out for a companion

THESE BRUISES

One

I wish I could nail these hands to the edges of stars

I would sacrifice this body to the sky

Hoping to resurrect as someone spiteful enough to not care about you anymore

Two

Staple me to a cross.

Pierce my side with a broken promise

And I will bleed all the crippled reasons why you deserve one more chance.

Three

Loving you was the last thing I felt really good at.

LET GOD BE THE JUDGE (LGBT – J)

They are the places we’ve found ourselves

Trapped in circumstances

Unable to live the lives we want

To please their idea of normalcy

Most of us bend and break

Avoiding what we crave to touch

But I tell you for yours and everyone’s sake

Let God be the Judge

From a Homosexual to the Forerunner of CHANGE

We are born on the back of angels with broken wings and hearts that match perfectly

Our spirits have been rocked to sleep by the arms of an oppressive system

That steals pieces of our sexuality every time we blink our eyes

We are walking narcoleptics

We are sleepwalkers

Waiting to be touched

Waiting to be woken up

Waiting for somebody to care

Waiting to care about ourselves

And the people with physical features that closely resemble our own.

MASTURBATION

It’s always been a fascination

I’ve never lacked for motivation

Always finding the inspiration

A wonderful form of relaxation

Much more fun than meditation

Starting with some stimulation

You get that feeling of elation

As it begins its elongation

Followed by the levitation

Then waiting in anticipation

Of enjoying that final sensation

As I race toward my destination

My breaths rush in serious vexation

Body doused with perspiration

My whole being quaking with the ejaculation

And with that last suspiration

Comes the reaching of pacification.

Written by Pink Panther

THE UNCOMMON MAN

To every man who’s ever been looked in the eye and told he’s too much:

You who left the fold before they folded it off you

You who came out inventing your own how-to-scale-a-wall with on consonants

Let them call you different

Let them bait the minnows of your heart

Show them your heart is a school of fish, a solar system of all moons

When asked, say, “My heart is always causing the mating season.”

When they call you full of yourself, say, “Yes, I do breathe better air.”

Breathe in their scorn and breathe out Eldorado.