Queer Lodgings (rough)

the initial cringe did not surprise 

elicited no response 

comfort turning uncomfortable 

stumbling tongue 

everywhere hands convey distress 

you cannot hold my eyes 

I do not move 

watch the miles race through you 

all over the room 

there in no air in your world 

no fear of danger not looking for you

it does not exist 

it never did 

ignorance was your bliss 

what you didn't know,      you really did

the struggle drapes your frame 

hand me down opinions 

in all the wrong colors 

I understand you are drowning 

I am not your undertow 

I did not throw your voice all over the room 

spouting homophobic like a geyser of disgust 

all stereotype and conjecture 

I know first hand what you think of my kind 

the empress is wearing no clothes 

I see all of you 

you showed me your skin 

I showed you mine 

there is a reason you didn't know 

you equated lifestyle with intelligence 

decided to delete what you knew to suit your needs 

perhaps you imagined me closeted 

as in hush 

and shame 

now the awkward has settled 

you look at me like I want from you 

I watch the the questions slot through 

then something slides behind your eyes 

you wonder if I find you attractive 

it's my turn to cringe 

Two Figures with Flowers

I am two states away staring 

at the same picture that hangs on a wall in your house 

it reminds me of the last time I saw you 

flames in the background. 

I am staring at this image 

remembering how tired I felt in that moment 

when you shifted into shallow 

all my limbs aching from confinement 

my heart on the floor 

torn between the relief 

the freedom of closeted love 

and the grief of losing you. 

Two states away my hands 

my hips 

remember the feel of lust in the dark 

away from prying eyes 

a secret I could not keep 

not for long 

your body's press on me 

the way I reveled and moaned. 

Tomorrow I will leave this state 

a steering wheel trapped between my fists 

headed back to my life 

the one you never inhabited fully. 

Is it coincidence that this painting 

exists in two different states 

or that you attempted to siren song me 

back into your bed of lies 

or that my hands crave the geography of you? 

I have been looking for home 

in all the wrong closets 

in all the wrong smiles 

welcomed more warmly by strangers 

than by you, who claimed to know me

or want to. 

This painting 

these two figures 

they peer out so full of sadness and regret 

I feel they may be warning me 

the smaller figures eyes 

seem to implore reminding me 

"remember what happened last time"

the flowers have nothing to report.

i know

i fell off. said i was going to update. i lied. not on purpose, but what are you gonna do?
here is # 15 NO HOMO. I wrote it in response to hearing that phrase and well...here ya go



No Homo

A member of the genus Homo,
which includes the extinct and extant species of human beings
characterized by superior intelligence,
articulate speech, and erect carriage
also a loanword,
a prefix,
meaning the same


that can’t be
from the moment we are evicted from the womb
we are taught, instructed, threatened
to be different
draw your own lines in the sand
create your own existence
be unique
be different

if we were all the same
our moon would orbit the same earth
our rights equally protected
because we are the same
but we are different
not the same
or
no homo

no superior intelligence
no articulate speech
no erect carriage
no species of human
no sense
the words
make no sense
to me

well,
I guess it makes just about enough sense
as if my students
arms raised in protest
thesauruses
dictionaries
strewn about the floor
spines broken

they roil
overcooked alphabet soup
letters sloshing off their sides
fists punching the sky
making their agenda known
declaring in loud voices

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN
THERE ARE WORDS THAT SOUND THE SAME
BUT SPELLED DIFFERENTLY
HAVE DIFFERENT MEANINGS

AND THOSE OTHER WORDS
THOSE WORDS
DRESSED IN NEWSPRINT AND BINDINGS
THOSE WORDS THAT ARE SPELLED,
LOOK, SOUND
EXACTLY LIKE
THOSE OTHER WORDS
BUT HAVE THE AUDACITY TO MEAN
DIFFERENT THINGS

THEY ARE PRETENDING TO BE SOMETHING
THEY ARE NOT
WE WILL NO LONGER HONOR THEIR PRESENCE
WE WILL NO LONGER SPEAK THEIR SYLLABLES
NO HOMONYMS
NO HOMOGRAPHS

NO HOMO
NO SAME

and well, that makes sense

when I hear those words in your song your poem
I get the feeling you are
declaring your own agenda
expressing your fear of sharing sameness
with people who sexually prefer
the same people
those
no hetero's

you are roiling
overcooked alphabet soup
the letters sloshing over your sides
lqbtqai
I stop listening
because your world is so small
your views are so narrow
there is no room for me

a member of the genus Homo,
which includes the extinct and extant species
of humans beings
characterized
by my superior intelligence
my articulate speech
and this erect carriage

and you are right
we are no homo
we are not the
same

The L Word (part two)

Sometimes it takes me a minute to realize that I’m being slighted in some way when it actually happens. I just re-read that sentence and it doesn’t look right but it’s what I think I’m trying to say so I will try to break it down. I am used to folks being direct not this passive aggressive backhanded compliment shit. When I don’t like something I say I don’t like it. And if my opinion is asked I am assuming that you aren’t soliciting a lie. So when you tell me something I’ve done appeals to you or that you liked what I said or how I said it, I tend to take it as honesty because in my line of logic I’m thinking who would volunteer a lie? And why would you voluntarily offer up false praise when you could have just said nothing. Oh well, I keep forgetting I’m a little different and when I remember I shrug it off like an itchy sweater. I mean I am of the mind that if you are over forty and haven’t learned that some people are mean, and mean people suck and if at forty plus you haven’t developed a sense of humor that can filter through bullshit leaving your self esteem in tact? Well, I don’t know what to tell you.

So, someone I dealt with briefly just found out about my attack of lesbianism. He was a part of my life when unhappiness led to acting out. My first marriage one of guilt and denial my open act of I’M NOT GAY resistance. Jumping from my first love, a woman, into the guy I ruined to prove my straightness. I had affairs, and other things and I still wasn’t happy so this encounter and I am left east of knocked up and not sure who belonged to who as I was so entangled. I wanted children so now I had one. I was also always clear that, if need be, I could raise my children myself. So the donor, mind you no test has been taken to make sure, twenty-two years later has issues. Mind you my daughter is clear about her parents her mother and the second husband her father who raised her. So, I’ll amend the alleged donor calls her, my daughter, when he finds out that I am one of them.

He has a fit. Makes comments like she should have been raised by him cause he ain’t no punk.? Still not sure what that means but you who know me know my fist instinct was to laugh. Like me being me is a detriment to raising children. Crazy! I had pretty much let that go until I overheard someone saying, “She’s a homosexual you know.” The way it was said made it sound so sketch. And I know they maybe weren’t talking about me (who am I kidding there was pointing for fucks sake). It made me think of the donor and the church lady and the preacher and all the other encounters with folks that want to judge me by my sexuality.

I find it sad and funny that those who bark so loud about my unfitness as a parent have children so fucked up therapy would be a band-aid. My kids are not perfect. And even if they make the same mistakes I did or create brand new ones as long as they learn from them all will be good. As of now, no one has gone to jail, nobody’s knocked up and they love learning!

I am not perfect and my kids know the imperfections well, I tend to wear them on my tongue, so I have no fear of them waking up one day feeling like their mother was a liar.

And I have lied about many things, my favorite was pretending to be deaf and listening to this guy on the bus telling me all the nasty things he wanted to do to me. It was tough not showing the disgust on my face, and later there was a knee to the groin and running. Thank the Goddess for track. You live, you learn. I don’t lie about the things that are important especially when it comes to my kids. And I would appreciate it if when you judge me for being gay, we just stick to the gay. When you judge my parenting, just judge my parenting. And should you be so inclined to mix the two, have the goddamn decency to not cry or bitch when you recognize yourself in a poem or in a blatant statement like, oh I don’t know this one. I didn’t include your names cause this is your freebie. Your only freebie;-)

Have a lovely!

*written without editing forgive the rambling, or don't...