Tag Archives: GAY

A DATE WITH A STAR

A DATE WITH A STAR

I’ve run the gamut
From plus to minus
From nearly the worst
To among the finest.
But there was an actor
I’d love to date again.
The incredibly attractive
Richard Chamberlain.

Richard Chamberlain
You magnificent man
I blush to write a poem
But I will do what I can
To get the point across
That you’re one of a kind
To think otherwise one must
Be deaf, mute and blind.

I am just old enough to
Recall young Doctor Kildare.
I am sure with cable now
It always plays somewhere.
But, for a young gay kid
I immediately lost my heart.
I could not convince myself
You were just playing a part.

To me you were the doctor
That could heal where I ailed.
No matter that at this time
What I felt could get me jailed.
I just went on and pined for
This beautiful man on TV.
Every word he said seemed
To be music to young me.

So when I got the chance
To spend an evening with him
Dancing at a nice party
Thrown by a mutual friend
I jumped at the chance
And broke a cardinal rule
I told him of my crush on him
I am sure I looked the fool.

Thus, it really wasn’t a date
More of an amazing evening.
That kind of happy accident
I still have trouble believing.
But it counts as a date to me
When a delightful, classy man
Spends the evening chatting
With an obviously smitten fan.

 

 

THE F WORD

f word

I’m the Caucasian black guy
Crying out for equal rights.
I’m the white faced coolie
You murdered in the night
So you didn’t have to pay
His salary on the railroad.
I’m the unrelated relative
Of Faulkner’s Tom Joad.

I’m the underappreciated
The butt of many quips.
I’ve known the well of bitterness
And have taken countless sips.
The names they’ve called me
Seldom amounted to praise.
I’m the one they passed over
When giving out a raise.

I was told to not expect
To advance in any job.
I was told to just agree
And to let my silent head bob.
I knew all the best was there
For a man who had a wife.
Otherwise I must do without
The rewards in everyday life.

But we must sleep and eat
And have a roof over our heads.
So we cut up and act the fool
And eat the cheapest breads.
We act like the jokes don’t hurt
While we bleed inside our souls.
We make the best of what we have
And compromise our own goals.

Yes, we’re the modern house slaves
Regardless of the color of our skin.
We’re expected to be satisfied because
They think God has made us from sin.
It’s one of those shameful moments
That blot the history of our planet.
We’re dealt with as if we were scum
And told we simply must stand it.

LITTLE BOY WHO WASN’T THERE

little boy

The little boy who wasn’t there
Has playground dust all in his hair
Some other kids are gathered around
When he tries to rise, they knock him down.

The little boy who wasn’t there
Has no defenders anywhere
He doesn’t cry out, doesn’t speak
He knows the others think him weak.

The little boy who wasn’t there
Acted sad but nobody cared.
School blamed both boys in a fight
Did not find out who was right.

The little boy walks home alone
But nowhere is a safety zone.
They catch him just a block away
They call him fag, they call him gay.

The little boy can’t tell his Ma.
She’ll beat him and then tell his Pa.
They’ll both look at him like a freak.
Two more times he mustn’t speak.

The little boy goes to his room
And listens to the voice of doom.
Depression has become his friend.
He only wants this all to end.

NATURAL CONCLUSIONS

natural conclusions

To some it’s all conjectural,
Philosophically conceptual.
You think you’re intellectual
But your reasoning is ineffectual.
Reviled both by heterosexuals
Insulted as well by homosexuals
And some ugly issues contractual
We are the besmirched bisexuals.

While it is the opposite of equality
It is the essence of our reality,
A warped straight-centric morality
Based on a Christianist plurality.

The straights tell us we must decide
Then put the other gender aside.
The complaints range far and wide
Even gay people opt to deride.
We don’t feel welcomed anywhere inside.
Why doesn’t tolerance coincide
When nobody seems to take our side?
It’s freedom, get on the bus and ride.

While it is the opposite of equality
It is the essence of our reality,
A warped straight-centric morality
Based on a Christianist plurality.

We know, after years of research
Gender choice is not learned in church.
It can be shaped with rods of birch
But those are better for birds to perch.
Denying us freedom is an ugly lurch
Past including truth in a morality search.
Back to when we were ruled by a church
And any variance was besmirched.

While it is the opposite of equality
It is the essence of our reality,
A warped straight-centric morality
Based on a Christianist plurality.

SECRET AGENT

SECRET AGENT

He lives in fear
Some will discover
He lives in disguise
Like a spy undercover.
He lives in suspense,
Did he let something slip.
He lives in madness
Like a bad acid trip.

It’s a topsy-turvy world
Where lying is the stock-in-trade.
False approval from peers
Is the payment for deals he made.
The pats on his back
Are what he does the whole thing for.
The social approval gives
Gifts to him too grand to ignore.

He lives in fear
Some will discover
He lives in disguise
Like a spy undercover.

Pride in who he is
A distant world he cannot see.
An Everest to climb
That threatens his mortality.
He has to lie constantly
Or forget himself accidentally.
Telling the truth will
Remove his sense of morality.

He lives in suspense,
Did he let something slip.
He lives in madness
Like a bad acid trip.

He doesn’t trust feelings
They make of him a criminal.
His relationship with pride
And self-esteem is minimal.
That others can be free
Can never apply to someone like him.
He hears there is liberation
But his own chances are very slim.

He lives in fear
Some will discover
He lives in disguise
Like a spy undercover.
He lives in suspense,
Did he let something slip.
He lives in madness
Like a bad acid trip.

THREEWAY FREEWAY

THREEWAY

She was stark naked
I could see her quim
And her boyfriend had
Quite the dick on him.
His meat should have
Made him quite proud
And the lady’s tits
For crying out loud
Were perky and prominent
And quite nice to see.
Both of them seemed
To be pointing at me.

And I seemed to be
Eagerly pointing back.
They both very obviously
Aware of that one fact.
She smiled openly
And the guy broadly winked.
I started asking myself
“Do you think? He did wink!”
So, I winked and smiled
And let them see my bone
And hoped this meant I
Would not be alone.

I hoped they’d invite me
To sit on their beach towel
To slather sunscreen on them
Like a human mortar trowel.
There are not many things
There are few better for me
Than hot mixed couples
Into some fun bisexuality.
I have games for both kinds
And genders of human beings
All based on the stimulus
Of what I’m feeling and seeing.

Generally a single man
Is not lucky at this scene
A common concept that I
Always found to be quite mean.
I understand about jealousy,
An emotion foreign to me
So, I usually keep my distance
And behave circumspectly.
But when I get the go-ahead
I never hesitate very long.
How could something this good
Be considered bad or wrong?

THROUGH IT

through it

I lived through it,
The up and down times
When I sold pot
And did other petty crimes.
I was there when
Hot girls were really guys
Hiding floppy secrets
Between their nyloned thighs.

I loved through it,
Saturdays that started
On Tuesday morning
When I first departed;
Two packs of cigs
And a week’s doobies,
By then a value
Almost that of rubies.

I laughed through it,
A weed whore, your jokes
Were so funny if
You were providing smokes.
I flattered and flirted
Whatever it would finally take
To score a bit of weed,
Even the skimpiest shake.

I lolled through it,
Lying buck naked in your bed
Or with your guests
Whatever you originally said
Because you scored,
You were the source of dope.
Without your patronage
I didn’t have a moment of hope.

I hitchhiked through it,
Long trips back from Malibu
When I had worn out
My welcome to the world of you.
I hope the ride might be
Another adventure; more weed,
Or some food and drink
To satisfy my every begging need.