You'll only arrive at this house through
the woods we grew with purpose
Those birches dance
in costumes curled & fringed
Lights wink between the two
still flirting with the handsome oak next door
While below graped canopy
four chairs collect deep shade
emptied now of long-awaited guests
Sensitive ferns beside smooth purple stones
focused on this visitation
Heavy, cool air, fuels the spreading greenness
embedded in every surface, as if footsteps
you might fit your sole into each morning
and trace, still sleepy, a path older than ants.
eaf
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
POEM: Prospero's Prospect, by Jay Johnson
This I abjure:
rough young magicians with red hair
and freckles and the memories
of them which have dissolved me in tears.
Full fathom five
my father lies and my beloved
and my beloved and
the ones I thought, however briefly
beloved
and of their bones is coral made
and of my heart
is hope squeezed not quite dry.
Even as the leaves cover paths
and grasses parch, there is nothing
but expectation
of the island, the prospect
of the buoys tolling in the sea
the cloudless sky
the spells
for which no longer have I breath,
of the final nothing at all.
JAY JOHNSON
as featured in the Gay & Lesbian Review
rough young magicians with red hair
and freckles and the memories
of them which have dissolved me in tears.
Full fathom five
my father lies and my beloved
and my beloved and
the ones I thought, however briefly
beloved
and of their bones is coral made
and of my heart
is hope squeezed not quite dry.
Even as the leaves cover paths
and grasses parch, there is nothing
but expectation
of the island, the prospect
of the buoys tolling in the sea
the cloudless sky
the spells
for which no longer have I breath,
of the final nothing at all.
JAY JOHNSON
as featured in the Gay & Lesbian Review
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Poem: Antipodes (ef)
"Yonder in Ethiopia are the Antipodes, men that have their feet against our feet." ~ Bartholemus Anglicus
Even the bereft take advantage of a window's uncostly function -
But no transparent choice guarantees an apparent outcome.
Through crust & core, shovels hammer in hopes of riches and great escapes -
Those wounds never heal. When a women's mantle is disturbed - she'll leak her innermost secrets - so don't be too hasty.
Bide your time, taking away slowly spoonfuls of dirt.
If you leave your perceived Siberia in haste just to pop up in Antarctica,
You deserve a penguin's sour upbraiding. To not be kitted for the occasion -
Is to be vestigial, tuxless & fucked.
10.14.09
Even the bereft take advantage of a window's uncostly function -
But no transparent choice guarantees an apparent outcome.
Through crust & core, shovels hammer in hopes of riches and great escapes -
Those wounds never heal. When a women's mantle is disturbed - she'll leak her innermost secrets - so don't be too hasty.
Bide your time, taking away slowly spoonfuls of dirt.
If you leave your perceived Siberia in haste just to pop up in Antarctica,
You deserve a penguin's sour upbraiding. To not be kitted for the occasion -
Is to be vestigial, tuxless & fucked.
10.14.09
Sunday, September 13, 2009
POEMS: Assorted Finds...
This Is Just To Sayby William Carlos Williams
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
Copyright © 1962 by William Carlos Williams
***************************************
The Hunch
by Kevin Young
She wore red like a razor — cut quite a figure
standing there, her slender danger
dividing day from night, there
from here. Where I hoped to be is near
her & her fragrant, flammable hair —
words like always entering my mouth
that once only gargled doubt.
You see, I been used before like a car…
Between us, this sweating, a grandfather clock's steady tick, soundtrack of saxophones sighing.
It's been too long — a whole week
since love burned me like rye. I had begun
to see the glass as never empty
& that scared me.
She fills me like the lake
fills a canoe — no rescue — & to swim
I never learned how.
From BLACK MARIA by Kevin Young. Copyright © 2005 by Kevin Young.
***************************************
Which the Chicken, Which the Egg
by Ogden Nash
He drinks because she scolds, he thinks;
She thinks she scolds because he drinks;
And neither will admit what's true,
That he's a sot and she's a shrew.
From Nash's The Old Dog Barks Backwards , published in 1972.
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
Copyright © 1962 by William Carlos Williams
***************************************
The Hunch
by Kevin Young
She wore red like a razor — cut quite a figure
standing there, her slender danger
dividing day from night, there
from here. Where I hoped to be is near
her & her fragrant, flammable hair —
words like always entering my mouth
that once only gargled doubt.
You see, I been used before like a car…
Between us, this sweating, a grandfather clock's steady tick, soundtrack of saxophones sighing.
It's been too long — a whole week
since love burned me like rye. I had begun
to see the glass as never empty
& that scared me.
She fills me like the lake
fills a canoe — no rescue — & to swim
I never learned how.
From BLACK MARIA by Kevin Young. Copyright © 2005 by Kevin Young.
***************************************
Which the Chicken, Which the Egg
by Ogden Nash
He drinks because she scolds, he thinks;
She thinks she scolds because he drinks;
And neither will admit what's true,
That he's a sot and she's a shrew.
From Nash's The Old Dog Barks Backwards , published in 1972.
Monday, September 07, 2009
POEM: The Ancient Chinese poets often parted on Mules, by David Masello
The Ancient Chinese poets often parted on Mules
Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide, The, July-August, 2009 by David Masello
When you are far away like this,
I replace my time with yours,
the one you are occupying.
You arise when I do not,
take meals before I have an appetite,
love, perhaps, someone who is not me.
You have led an accelerated life, yet
your flight tonight follows the horizon.
As you speed westward, you slow.
It will be dark when you land.
We will both tire as the moon rises.
We will sleep together.
Morning, the sun will heat
us to the same temperature.
(c) 2009 Gay & Lesbian Review, Inc.
(c) 2009 Gale, Cengage Learning
Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide, The, July-August, 2009 by David Masello
When you are far away like this,
I replace my time with yours,
the one you are occupying.
You arise when I do not,
take meals before I have an appetite,
love, perhaps, someone who is not me.
You have led an accelerated life, yet
your flight tonight follows the horizon.
As you speed westward, you slow.
It will be dark when you land.
We will both tire as the moon rises.
We will sleep together.
Morning, the sun will heat
us to the same temperature.
(c) 2009 Gay & Lesbian Review, Inc.
(c) 2009 Gale, Cengage Learning
Monday, June 08, 2009
Poem: Canopy Tour (ef)
If it could be written
in words, all of it -
the clearing of the woods
down the gorge
wouldn't provide enough paper -
but there are so many things worth writing:
The woven nest whose tendrils
snake the rafters
that fat-bottomed bee
she bores the beams and rails
Sun and shadow mutate from
mid-day dapples
to six o'clock streaks and stripes
Regularly, the blue-jays terrorize
the robins, "Cheer, cheer!"
A cardinal, to spite its weaker song
fans the braver fire of its plumage
against which the robin's pale orange blush is shamed.
Will there be a roast tonight?
Will those broken cords be put to use -
cut loose into a crackling moonlight sonata
while we are still able to hear it
and while the woods around are still audience?
Beech twigs at daybreak
clears the palate - coffee pulls the shades open
Spatters of separating forms
evolve in God's country
the oddly mittened sassafras,
orange & ribboned mushrooms -
the companions of coal.
Animated wood smoke
tests memory's rafters -
recalls California or Maine?
Suddenly, I am ten,
with Betty on a stone beach.
Or that visit with Ben Franklin which yielded little,
But called to mind:
"If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead and rotten,
either write something worth reading or do things worth the writing."
I have done so little of either lately, I reflect -
I've missed you, my friend, and it's my fault, really.
What becomes of the world
emptied of the wild and woolly?
The incorrigible flirt of birds -
their inexhaustible metallic twitters;
What song accompanied Adam's expulsion
from that first forest?
The retreating and silenced hemlocks, their crushed needles
evoke poisons and potions.
The dimming of the lanterns, the wetting of the coals...
What soft smell will be registered
by our human exit?
in words, all of it -
the clearing of the woods
down the gorge
wouldn't provide enough paper -
but there are so many things worth writing:
The woven nest whose tendrils
snake the rafters
that fat-bottomed bee
she bores the beams and rails
Sun and shadow mutate from
mid-day dapples
to six o'clock streaks and stripes
Regularly, the blue-jays terrorize
the robins, "Cheer, cheer!"
A cardinal, to spite its weaker song
fans the braver fire of its plumage
against which the robin's pale orange blush is shamed.
Will there be a roast tonight?
Will those broken cords be put to use -
cut loose into a crackling moonlight sonata
while we are still able to hear it
and while the woods around are still audience?
Beech twigs at daybreak
clears the palate - coffee pulls the shades open
Spatters of separating forms
evolve in God's country
the oddly mittened sassafras,
orange & ribboned mushrooms -
the companions of coal.
Animated wood smoke
tests memory's rafters -
recalls California or Maine?
Suddenly, I am ten,
with Betty on a stone beach.
Or that visit with Ben Franklin which yielded little,
But called to mind:
"If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead and rotten,
either write something worth reading or do things worth the writing."
I have done so little of either lately, I reflect -
I've missed you, my friend, and it's my fault, really.
What becomes of the world
emptied of the wild and woolly?
The incorrigible flirt of birds -
their inexhaustible metallic twitters;
What song accompanied Adam's expulsion
from that first forest?
The retreating and silenced hemlocks, their crushed needles
evoke poisons and potions.
The dimming of the lanterns, the wetting of the coals...
What soft smell will be registered
by our human exit?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
POEM: The Dump, by Thom Gunner
THE DUMP
He died, and I admired
the crisp vehemence
of a lifetime reduced to
half a foot of shelf space.
But others came to me saying,
we too loved him, let us take you
to the place of our love.
So they showed me
everything, everything--
a cliff of notebooks
with every draft and erasure
of every poem he
published or rejected,
thatched already
with webs of annotation.
I went in further and saw
a hill of matchcovers
from every bar or restaurant
he'd ever entered. Trucks
backed up constantly,
piled with papers, and awaited
by archivists with shovels;
forklifts bumped through
trough and valley
to adjust the spillage.
Here odors of rubbery sweat
intruded on the pervasive
smell of stale paper,
no doubt from the mound
of his collected sneakers.
I clambered up the highest
pile and found myself
looking across not history
but the vistas of a steaming
range of garbage
reaching to the coast itself. Then
I lost my footing! and was
carried down on a soft
avalanche of letters, paid bills,
sexual polaroids, and notes
refusing invitations, thanking
fans, resisting scholars.
In nightmare I slid,
no ground to stop me,
until I woke at last
where I had napped beside
the precious half foot. Beyond that,
nothing, nothing at all.
© 1998 Thom Gunn
He died, and I admired
the crisp vehemence
of a lifetime reduced to
half a foot of shelf space.
But others came to me saying,
we too loved him, let us take you
to the place of our love.
So they showed me
everything, everything--
a cliff of notebooks
with every draft and erasure
of every poem he
published or rejected,
thatched already
with webs of annotation.
I went in further and saw
a hill of matchcovers
from every bar or restaurant
he'd ever entered. Trucks
backed up constantly,
piled with papers, and awaited
by archivists with shovels;
forklifts bumped through
trough and valley
to adjust the spillage.
Here odors of rubbery sweat
intruded on the pervasive
smell of stale paper,
no doubt from the mound
of his collected sneakers.
I clambered up the highest
pile and found myself
looking across not history
but the vistas of a steaming
range of garbage
reaching to the coast itself. Then
I lost my footing! and was
carried down on a soft
avalanche of letters, paid bills,
sexual polaroids, and notes
refusing invitations, thanking
fans, resisting scholars.
In nightmare I slid,
no ground to stop me,
until I woke at last
where I had napped beside
the precious half foot. Beyond that,
nothing, nothing at all.
© 1998 Thom Gunn
Thursday, November 06, 2008
POEM: Lucky, by Tony Hoagland
LuckyIf you are lucky in this life, you will get to help your enemy the way I got to help my mother when she was weakened past the point of saying no. Into the big enamel tub half-filled with water which I had made just right, I lowered the childish skeleton she had become. Her eyelids fluttered as I soaped and rinsed her belly and her chest, the sorry ruin of her flanks and the frayed gray cloud between her legs. Some nights, sitting by her bed book open in my lap while I listened to the air move thickly in and out of her dark lungs, my mind filled up with praise as lush as music, amazed at the symmetry and luck that would offer me the chance to pay my heavy debt of punishment and love with love and punishment. And once I held her dripping wet in the uncomfortable air between the wheelchair and the tub, and she begged me like a child to stop, an act of cruelty which we both understood was the ancient irresistible rejoicing of power over weakness. If you are lucky in this life, you will get to raise the spoon of pristine, frosty ice cream to the trusting creature mouth of your old enemy because the tastebuds at least are not broken because there is a bond between you and sweet is sweet in any language. |
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Poem: What Obligations... (ef)
Sheets shook of sand
We fold into the wind
We are the salt & sun we’ve absorbed
But we do not grow
Basics of tasting
Palates of blues & citrus candy
Burnt into crystalline entries
An arrangement of stones
The constellations on my back
Weigh little – elliptical allusions
The ebb & flow of my confidence.
And my confidantes:
Weak as our strangest link.
Our laughs and loves
Great wines and deep hurts
All held in escrow by
An institution which draws little interest
But which suffers perpetual withdrawals.
I’ve created this little world.
What obligations are here to maintain it?
To sustain its law & order –
To not move on as the world in which
I was created finds itself
Short on the upkeep by its creator?
Image by Wordle.net
We fold into the wind
We are the salt & sun we’ve absorbed
But we do not grow
Basics of tasting
Palates of blues & citrus candy
Burnt into crystalline entries
An arrangement of stones
The constellations on my back
Weigh little – elliptical allusions
The ebb & flow of my confidence.
And my confidantes:
Weak as our strangest link.
Our laughs and loves
Great wines and deep hurts
All held in escrow by
An institution which draws little interest
But which suffers perpetual withdrawals.
I’ve created this little world.
What obligations are here to maintain it?
To sustain its law & order –
To not move on as the world in which
I was created finds itself
Short on the upkeep by its creator?
Image by Wordle.net
Monday, October 29, 2007
What Do Angels Know (ef)
What do angels know?
They have no memories
For they travel at the speed of light
Dancing at the tips of its original rays.
Its always exactly yesterday
When you met them
And they smile & wink as if
They've known you since birth
Because in some sense,
They knew you at your birth
But even now barely register
Your face for the reflection of
Their own light in your wrinkling eyes
And besides they are already
Well into tomorrow - witnessing another newborn
While your greying hair and gnarling hands
Though tired - even now are too fast & agitated
For an angel's full attention.
They will know you again
The very moment you slow down enough to stop.
In that moment - finally able to catch up with you
They will pick you up and say your name again.
Image by Wordle.net
They have no memories
For they travel at the speed of light
Dancing at the tips of its original rays.
Its always exactly yesterday
When you met them
And they smile & wink as if
They've known you since birth
Because in some sense,
They knew you at your birth
But even now barely register
Your face for the reflection of
Their own light in your wrinkling eyes
And besides they are already
Well into tomorrow - witnessing another newborn
While your greying hair and gnarling hands
Though tired - even now are too fast & agitated
For an angel's full attention.
They will know you again
The very moment you slow down enough to stop.
In that moment - finally able to catch up with you
They will pick you up and say your name again.
Image by Wordle.net
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Global Cooling (ef)
Pump stopped
Heart beatless
Rhythmless echoes below
Circulation maintained
Differentially between
A hot head and
A cooling libido.
Heart beatless
Rhythmless echoes below
Circulation maintained
Differentially between
A hot head and
A cooling libido.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Tooth (ef)
Your universal truths
are long in the tooth
well-worn, not fit for chewing
on tougher meats
it's satisfaction worn down
to softer dough & doughnuts
and me
just a tip of the iceberg to show
fathom my form
classic, pure chilly magic
flowing cool over the desert
casting soft & ankle deep
a fog
for effect - you could file
your dental work back into shape
or spend thousands on a
replacement pair
but you'll never outswim this shark
with rows & rows of waiting teeth
to spare.
are long in the tooth
well-worn, not fit for chewing
on tougher meats
it's satisfaction worn down
to softer dough & doughnuts
and me
just a tip of the iceberg to show
fathom my form
classic, pure chilly magic
flowing cool over the desert
casting soft & ankle deep
a fog
for effect - you could file
your dental work back into shape
or spend thousands on a
replacement pair
but you'll never outswim this shark
with rows & rows of waiting teeth
to spare.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Morocco... (ef)
Is Morocco spicy?
I'd say it is.
And could it ever have cowboys?
On camels, maybe yes -
with names like whispers
or shifting sands
again - it's quite possible
dunes, beaches, grasses, wind, fog, mule deer;
this place has room.
I'd say it is.
And could it ever have cowboys?
On camels, maybe yes -
with names like whispers
or shifting sands
again - it's quite possible
dunes, beaches, grasses, wind, fog, mule deer;
this place has room.
Monday, July 11, 2005
WalkDanceTalkSign --- Or Sit Down & Shut Up
I was recently introduced to this post in a blog:
http://joemygod.blogspot.com/2005/07/watching-defectives.html
Youse talkin' to me?
So up came the topic of Pride's possible irrelevance, and I can say - I DID read the rant (loosely termed 'article') that the link led me to.
And I read it again - and still - this is a writer who wants an excuse to celebrate 'being gay'. And wants Pride to be the thing he enjoys and the parade that no one poops on.
Well, I step up to fling my poo.
"Why don't the papers ever show the NORMAL gay people? Where are the bankers and lawyers? Why must all the coverage be drag queens and leather freaks in ass-less chaps?"
I don't enjoy "Pride" - either as a political statement (which I don't believe it is any longer) or a 'celebration' (which I don't find very amusing or festive). So I don't attend - and I leave it to those that are seeking a chance to just let loose and express their individuality.
Knock yourselves out. No really.
I don't care if Pride survives or dries up completely in its current state. To me, it is irrelevant. But to me so is Styx or Huey Lewis & The News when they are on tour. I'm not buying tickets to sit through those performances - even if I hum along with their tunes.
Lisa Simpson: "You're here every year. We ARE used to it."
When there is a gay event (or any sort of event) that resonates with me, I will be there to show my support and my individuality in spades. Just as I have done, every day of my life, with friends, family, and sometimes complete strangers. No need for special occasions, thousands of bodies massed around me chanting, or autos wrapped in chicken wire and tucked with tissue paper.
Jew/Holocaust/Worn Out Cliches aside - this side says - "ooh icky drag queens and leather bears" - that side says "ooh boring yuppy gays with normal yuppy lives" - and each side hisses and spits at the other.
"They wish we were invisible. We're not. Let's dance.
Well, then dance - every day, in front of everyone you know. And ask them to dance with you. And dance with the people you want to dance with - whether they are your people/your tribe or not.
The lovely Kethrai introduced me to a quote a long time ago: "If you can walk you can dance. If you can talk you can sing." - Zimbabwe Proverb
http://joemygod.blogspot.com/2005/07/watching-defectives.html
Youse talkin' to me?
So up came the topic of Pride's possible irrelevance, and I can say - I DID read the rant (loosely termed 'article') that the link led me to.
And I read it again - and still - this is a writer who wants an excuse to celebrate 'being gay'. And wants Pride to be the thing he enjoys and the parade that no one poops on.
Well, I step up to fling my poo.
"Why don't the papers ever show the NORMAL gay people? Where are the bankers and lawyers? Why must all the coverage be drag queens and leather freaks in ass-less chaps?"
I don't enjoy "Pride" - either as a political statement (which I don't believe it is any longer) or a 'celebration' (which I don't find very amusing or festive). So I don't attend - and I leave it to those that are seeking a chance to just let loose and express their individuality.
Knock yourselves out. No really.
I don't care if Pride survives or dries up completely in its current state. To me, it is irrelevant. But to me so is Styx or Huey Lewis & The News when they are on tour. I'm not buying tickets to sit through those performances - even if I hum along with their tunes.
Lisa Simpson: "You're here every year. We ARE used to it."
When there is a gay event (or any sort of event) that resonates with me, I will be there to show my support and my individuality in spades. Just as I have done, every day of my life, with friends, family, and sometimes complete strangers. No need for special occasions, thousands of bodies massed around me chanting, or autos wrapped in chicken wire and tucked with tissue paper.
Jew/Holocaust/Worn Out Cliches aside - this side says - "ooh icky drag queens and leather bears" - that side says "ooh boring yuppy gays with normal yuppy lives" - and each side hisses and spits at the other.
"They wish we were invisible. We're not. Let's dance.
Well, then dance - every day, in front of everyone you know. And ask them to dance with you. And dance with the people you want to dance with - whether they are your people/your tribe or not.
The lovely Kethrai introduced me to a quote a long time ago: "If you can walk you can dance. If you can talk you can sing." - Zimbabwe Proverb
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Mouse or Elephant?, 2
A bit of a collection of recent rants - specifically about being gay, in the military (or like field), where gay isn't wanted:
Why did I go into the military?
[x] Parents divorced
[x] Living situation sucked
[x] No money for college
[x] Grew up fast and learned a lot
All of the above here.
I would never undo my time in the military. I learned too much, grew a lot as a person - and met some of my truest friends. BUT, I can't imagine having enlisted for another 4 yrs.
Making sure you have a strong ring around you is important.
I guess - you just have to find a group of folks that can be balanced and impartial - yet, at the same time give a gentle nudge, slap or kick as needed when you're feeling low.
My friends and family have always provided - in abundance.
As for the 'why did you enlist?', 'why do you stay?', 'have you lost all sense of reason and dignity?' type questions and comments: PIFFLE.
These are the questions you are strapped with already. Folks either have to be open to the fact you are there - or - well, zip it.
Whether the military is the most choice place to be as a homosexual or not - but for bending the rules, but for breaking into areas where folks would prefer you just don't go - it just holds everybody down.
There are so many things that someone has to do - and someone might be gay or straight - and if someone gay goes into the military, and succeeds daily despite all of the weight and obstacles that can trip that person up - don't knock that person down.
Salute them. Support them.
Some folks seem to find it incredibly easy to say - 'it's all or nothing' - come out or keep quiet.
A quote from one such folk:"What I am saying is that you are not powerless over your situation.
You have choices, and as always there is a consequence to every choice. Its life."
And as such - a person has the right to ask for help and support from other folks.
If the idea is that no one should ever approach something that's unattainable - or that a person should only do the things that allow them to be who they want to be, when they want to be, without any 'filtering' or without any weight for the consequences of their actions, what a friggin' scary place the world would be. Or may be becoming.
I would ask these free-wheeling folks, what is your life experience - your age, what you do for a living, where you live, etc. Those things have an impact on how you relate to the world. And may make it very black & white for you with regards to your sexuality.
One of the things I sometimes find perplexing about change in society is how slowly and then quickly and then slowly it occurs. And how sometimes it occurs without people realizing it. And sometimes it takes very sudden and unexpected slides backwards.
SO - that so many folks today can say they are out - to spoon in theatres, to check out other guys in malls, etc. - how many gay people in the previous generation(s) had to filter, had to slip into roles that required a little alteration of personality - and then had to come out to the right people at the right time?
And how about those who remain firmly in place on 'fronts' where they were unexpected, undesired, or not permitted - silent and waiting: agents of change.
Why did I go into the military?
[x] Parents divorced
[x] Living situation sucked
[x] No money for college
[x] Grew up fast and learned a lot
All of the above here.
I would never undo my time in the military. I learned too much, grew a lot as a person - and met some of my truest friends. BUT, I can't imagine having enlisted for another 4 yrs.
Making sure you have a strong ring around you is important.
I guess - you just have to find a group of folks that can be balanced and impartial - yet, at the same time give a gentle nudge, slap or kick as needed when you're feeling low.
My friends and family have always provided - in abundance.
As for the 'why did you enlist?', 'why do you stay?', 'have you lost all sense of reason and dignity?' type questions and comments: PIFFLE.
These are the questions you are strapped with already. Folks either have to be open to the fact you are there - or - well, zip it.
Whether the military is the most choice place to be as a homosexual or not - but for bending the rules, but for breaking into areas where folks would prefer you just don't go - it just holds everybody down.
There are so many things that someone has to do - and someone might be gay or straight - and if someone gay goes into the military, and succeeds daily despite all of the weight and obstacles that can trip that person up - don't knock that person down.
Salute them. Support them.
Some folks seem to find it incredibly easy to say - 'it's all or nothing' - come out or keep quiet.
A quote from one such folk:"What I am saying is that you are not powerless over your situation.
You have choices, and as always there is a consequence to every choice. Its life."
And as such - a person has the right to ask for help and support from other folks.
If the idea is that no one should ever approach something that's unattainable - or that a person should only do the things that allow them to be who they want to be, when they want to be, without any 'filtering' or without any weight for the consequences of their actions, what a friggin' scary place the world would be. Or may be becoming.
I would ask these free-wheeling folks, what is your life experience - your age, what you do for a living, where you live, etc. Those things have an impact on how you relate to the world. And may make it very black & white for you with regards to your sexuality.
One of the things I sometimes find perplexing about change in society is how slowly and then quickly and then slowly it occurs. And how sometimes it occurs without people realizing it. And sometimes it takes very sudden and unexpected slides backwards.
SO - that so many folks today can say they are out - to spoon in theatres, to check out other guys in malls, etc. - how many gay people in the previous generation(s) had to filter, had to slip into roles that required a little alteration of personality - and then had to come out to the right people at the right time?
And how about those who remain firmly in place on 'fronts' where they were unexpected, undesired, or not permitted - silent and waiting: agents of change.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
You Will Be... You.
On the supposed "assimilation of gay culture into mainstream society..."
Borg? Where?
The idea that cultures move closer and further apart - is a constant theme in America. I see things that amuse and frustrate me to no end in how people strive to be different and cry for acceptance.
- Straight guys that dress as gay or gayer than any gay guy - adopting fashions, hairstyles, shoes that many gay men would shy away from. Of course, I sometimes suspect their girlfriends had a hand in this.- A black subculture in our country that has moved further from mainstream - creating its own vocabulary, music and idealogy. Very successfully. Only to find itself adopted and emulated.- Immigrant cultures that fear the loss of their own languages and customs as their children strive to melt into the culture which surrounds them. And watching as the culture which surrounds them adopts and emulates food, music, styles, etc. from the incomers.
Sexuality is integral to my being. But it is the least of the things that affect those I work with and socialize with. And it is the final thing I purposefully reveal - it is mine to do with what I will. It is not who I am. And should not be the thing by which I am weighed and measured.
I believe this is why - in polite society and company - it is customary to shake hands at meeting and not some other appendage.
Gay culture is a part of the world - threading itself neatly in and out of favor and in and out of history. Within the gay subset - individuals have found and will continue to find ways to reinvent and redefine themselves - over and over again.
Folks in the world will continue to see a thing they like - and in an effort to set themselves apart - they will adopt and emulate the things they see that they find pleasing or unique. Some social butterfly effect, a pebble dropped in a pond...
Borg? Where?
The idea that cultures move closer and further apart - is a constant theme in America. I see things that amuse and frustrate me to no end in how people strive to be different and cry for acceptance.
- Straight guys that dress as gay or gayer than any gay guy - adopting fashions, hairstyles, shoes that many gay men would shy away from. Of course, I sometimes suspect their girlfriends had a hand in this.- A black subculture in our country that has moved further from mainstream - creating its own vocabulary, music and idealogy. Very successfully. Only to find itself adopted and emulated.- Immigrant cultures that fear the loss of their own languages and customs as their children strive to melt into the culture which surrounds them. And watching as the culture which surrounds them adopts and emulates food, music, styles, etc. from the incomers.
Sexuality is integral to my being. But it is the least of the things that affect those I work with and socialize with. And it is the final thing I purposefully reveal - it is mine to do with what I will. It is not who I am. And should not be the thing by which I am weighed and measured.
I believe this is why - in polite society and company - it is customary to shake hands at meeting and not some other appendage.
Gay culture is a part of the world - threading itself neatly in and out of favor and in and out of history. Within the gay subset - individuals have found and will continue to find ways to reinvent and redefine themselves - over and over again.
Folks in the world will continue to see a thing they like - and in an effort to set themselves apart - they will adopt and emulate the things they see that they find pleasing or unique. Some social butterfly effect, a pebble dropped in a pond...
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Defenders of ...
Whether I would be the marrying type or not - everytime I see this bumper sticker:
I want to just slam my car into the back of the car the sticker is on, shoving the bumper right up the arse of the hunch-backed, coke-bottle wearing, zit-squeezing "Defender of Marriage" with stray facial hair nervously gripping the steering wheel.
*With apologies to any non-Defenders who may be hunch-backed, coke-bottle wearing, or zit-squeezing. As for facial hair: razor, tweezer, wax - you decide.
I want to just slam my car into the back of the car the sticker is on, shoving the bumper right up the arse of the hunch-backed, coke-bottle wearing, zit-squeezing "Defender of Marriage" with stray facial hair nervously gripping the steering wheel.
*With apologies to any non-Defenders who may be hunch-backed, coke-bottle wearing, or zit-squeezing. As for facial hair: razor, tweezer, wax - you decide.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Freudian Slap...
A chum of mine sends incessant Spam. Rarely an actual e-mail - but two or three a day come jokes, photos, comic strips, etc. He also has no notion to BCC the 100 or so names on each e-mail.
So this morning - I see a reply from one of the recipients. And it's that reply that I often dream of sending myself - but... can't bring myself to:
"B,
Although I like your twisted humor, please remove my email address from the humor mailing list.
J"
Of course, this Spam was obviously going to J's work address. And J hit reply to everyone.
But - even better - a second reply comes from J,
"J would like to recall the message ... "
So, there was that moment of remorse.
Alas, that recall feature doesn't work as smartly as some would like.
So this morning - I see a reply from one of the recipients. And it's that reply that I often dream of sending myself - but... can't bring myself to:
"B,
Although I like your twisted humor, please remove my email address from the humor mailing list.
J"
Of course, this Spam was obviously going to J's work address. And J hit reply to everyone.
But - even better - a second reply comes from J,
"J would like to recall the message ... "
So, there was that moment of remorse.
Alas, that recall feature doesn't work as smartly as some would like.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
The Pope. Pope. Pope.
So, that Pope died.
People have been talking at work - and someone asked how I was holding up with everything that's just happened and I was like -
"What are you talking about? Who?"
I was only relieved for that old man that he was released from the grip from all the folks so desperate to keep him functioning - propping him up in front of windows sock-puppet style for the last several months.
Which reminds me of Meryn Cadell's POPE song from an album several years back:
"Well I love that man, Pope John Paul the 3rd
I love him probably more than he deserves.
Okay, so he persecutes homosexuals, does not believe in abortion,
visits with Kurt Waldheim and tells us not to take the pill ...
There’s still a certain je ne sais quoi –
Some peace, some love, some goodwill.
Yeah, the pope, pope, pope, pope, pope.
We all here to see the pope, pope, pope, pope, pope..."
Meantime, back at the ranch, I keep wondering:
"How many Catholics does it take to install a Pope?"
People have been talking at work - and someone asked how I was holding up with everything that's just happened and I was like -
"What are you talking about? Who?"
I was only relieved for that old man that he was released from the grip from all the folks so desperate to keep him functioning - propping him up in front of windows sock-puppet style for the last several months.
Which reminds me of Meryn Cadell's POPE song from an album several years back:
"Well I love that man, Pope John Paul the 3rd
I love him probably more than he deserves.
Okay, so he persecutes homosexuals, does not believe in abortion,
visits with Kurt Waldheim and tells us not to take the pill ...
There’s still a certain je ne sais quoi –
Some peace, some love, some goodwill.
Yeah, the pope, pope, pope, pope, pope.
We all here to see the pope, pope, pope, pope, pope..."
Meantime, back at the ranch, I keep wondering:
"How many Catholics does it take to install a Pope?"
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Marriage
Gay and Otherwise: Marriage
Personal choice as it affects that individual.
I've been in long-term relationships. I've been in short-term ... engagements.
If you meet somebody and you *click* - and you are together with an understanding b/t the two of you (or three or four) - that's a [spiritual] union. And if that lasts 2 weeks or 80 years, it's your life and choice.
The LEGAL allowances and protections inherent to the Married. I think that is the aim. And these are things that are so quickly denied or stripped away.
The UNION decision is b/t the parties involved - and/or their friends & family they invite to witness their connection. And who support them. And if you are involved in a faith - and your faith embraces your Union - fantastic.
Of course... I have never been inclined towards the fanciness of marriage. And sometimes, witnessing folks that are desperate to achieve marriage - and then are made so unhappy by it - I wonder:
"Why would you wish this on anyone?"
AND when I see a couple skipping through the aisles of Target, zapping merchandise into their registry with the merchandise stun gun - I am emotionally overwhelmed with
An urge to slap their heads together Stooges-style.
But that's me - and I am Gay. But not as Gay as some others in my Tribe.
Personal choice as it affects that individual.
I've been in long-term relationships. I've been in short-term ... engagements.
If you meet somebody and you *click* - and you are together with an understanding b/t the two of you (or three or four) - that's a [spiritual] union. And if that lasts 2 weeks or 80 years, it's your life and choice.
The LEGAL allowances and protections inherent to the Married. I think that is the aim. And these are things that are so quickly denied or stripped away.
The UNION decision is b/t the parties involved - and/or their friends & family they invite to witness their connection. And who support them. And if you are involved in a faith - and your faith embraces your Union - fantastic.
Of course... I have never been inclined towards the fanciness of marriage. And sometimes, witnessing folks that are desperate to achieve marriage - and then are made so unhappy by it - I wonder:
"Why would you wish this on anyone?"
AND when I see a couple skipping through the aisles of Target, zapping merchandise into their registry with the merchandise stun gun - I am emotionally overwhelmed with
An urge to slap their heads together Stooges-style.
But that's me - and I am Gay. But not as Gay as some others in my Tribe.
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