#glbtq poetry

[autumnsvoice87]

Purple Memory

I sat upon a rock

Watching the river waves

Flow upon the shore

I watched as love walked by

Hiking upon a forest path

My stomach churning

Like the waves flowing by

I say a prayer to mother earth

To give thanks for providing

The beautiful day

upon which I view

Soon love walked up to me

And presented a purple flower

The hue being light lavender

And my heart filled with glee

An act of giving thoughtfully

So simple yet so cherished

Alas the love I feel Is unrequited

Tis a gift of friendship

And nothing more

Yet I cannot help

That love has my heart Asunder

I accept and smile happily

And with humility

Knowing generally love

Still thinks of me

Thus I am not forgotten

In this vast world of cruelty

The purple flower's long petals

Dry out and fade away

But the act of kindness

Lingers on imprinted forever more

[stephenmead]

Support Stephen Mead

[myownprivate]

Sweet lad, tender lad, Have no shame, you’re mine for good; We share a sole insurgent fire, We live in boundless brotherhood. I do not fear the gibes of men; One being split in two we dwell, The kernel of a double nut Embedded in a single shell.

from: Imitation of the Arabic,  Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin

[briarmoon]

Pink Vanilla

Sometimes in this turbulent life  When the wind doesn’t feel quite right, To ourselves, we must learn to say  Blue skies will reappear one day.   A change is about to happen, My heart for you no longer yearns. Who knew the world would stop laughing And our love is about to turn.   You only give me stone coldness, Whenever I bring you my bones. There are days where I feel homeless, Living together all alone.   A change is about to happen, My love for you no longer burns. At the front door, time is rappin’ As our lives are about to turn.   Your gross indifference kills me, Disbelieving what you can’t see. Denial’s the pill you swallow, That leaves me forever hollow.   A change is about to happen, These chords we no longer discern.                                         This frail house of cards falls flappin’ And our love is about to turn.   Accepting blind faith sight unseen, You lick my strawberry ice cream; Saying it’s pink vanilla bean, You’re always lost inside a dream.   A change is about to happen, Sage lessons we no longer learn. Gold stars fade into black satin, As our lives are about to turn.   O’ how the mighty have fallen! Spring breezes never bring pollen, When you’re growing paper flowers. Over me, you hold no power.   A change is about to happen, My heart for you no longer yearns. Who knew the world would stop laughing And our love is about to turn.  

© 2021, By Briar Moon

[wobadooo]

Yes. Please don’t worry for me. I’m okay.“ I promise the two of them. I am okay. I have been okay on and off for the last two years. The worst part of being okay is that, pkay is far from being happy. Okay is that gray space in the middle where you can wake up each day and carry on with your life, even laugh and smile often, but okay isn’t joy. Okay isn’t looking forward to each second of your day, and okay isn’t getting the most out of life. Being okay is what most people settle for, myself included, and we pretend that okay is fine, when we actually hate it and we spend majority of our time waiting to break out of just being okay. He gave me a taste of how great life can be outside of okay and I’ve missed it ever since.

Anna Todd, After 3

[ruddytef]

She lives in the poetry she can't write.

[ratatoskryggdrasil]

Vanitas for Ash Wednesday: Duane Michals, All Things Mellow in the Mind, 1986

[demidelanuit]

I’ve always found that socially unacceptable people make the best lovers because they’re more sensitive.

~Candy Darling

[attraversiamo19]

Mochi and Sapphos!

mochi - fave studio ghibli film? I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t seen a ton of ghibli films, but of what I’ve seen, Ponyo is precious

sappho - fave poet? Mmm I really love Andrea Gibson - they write a lot about the struggles of the glbtq community with a focus on gender norm bullshit and their slam poetry is insane

send me a soft ask

[robertmgoldstein]

An Interview with Harold Norse, Part 3 – Saints and Self-Destruction

Part 3  of the interview begins where part 2 ends, with the question of what drives Norse to write his kind of poetry.

Norse discusses his abusive father, the pain of his isolation as a writer, and the years he spent in the closet.

He feels like a man without category.

He is not from the élite and he is not entirely of the poor.

He is not working class but he is not rich.

Norse was 53 in 1969,…

[briarmoon]

Angel

When we first met, I noticed your feet

And how they never touch the Earth;

Gliding high above as you walk.

When we’re together, I’m blessed to float with you

In the clouds for just a little while.

Alas, I stay close to the ground

Waiting to catch you, just in case life

Knocks you down again, my angel.

 © Copyright 2020, By Briar Moon

[tome-to-read]

I’ve been trying out some new genres thanks to recommendations from @geekgirlcon! This time I tried #timewas a historical time travel romance from @torbooks by #ianmcdonald. . ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ . Tom and Ben are lost in time - they leave each other notes written in WWII poetry books written by E.L. Anonymous promising that “Time was and always will be.” Emmett is a used-book dealer who finds a copy of a book with a love note in it, setting him off on a journey to discover who these two are and why they don’t age. . The story was simple and sweet. It took a minute to adjust to the shifting narrators, the “twist” was fairly obvious (why else would they not share the main character’s name for a good third of the book?), and at times the language became overly scientific. But the simple story was lovely, and the prose was lyrical and calming. It was a great bed-time/end of day read. . #timetravel #WWII #glbtq #52booksin52weeks #bookstagram #uncertainty https://ift.tt/2QCQy8W

[demidelanuit]

Who is she? Who was she? Who does she hope to be?

Harold, The Boys in the Band, 1970