postitive: a dedication

if I am
will you be a man
about it
will you stay with me
be
my rock
watching the clock
to make sure I
don't miss a dose
toast
every
anniversary
birthday
weekday
because you want me to know
I am loved
no matter what

or will you run away?

if so say
hey
to my father
he did not stay
either

so I had to be twice the man

as I am
now.


dedicated 2 those touched

thankful

For years I thought I wanted you
had something my mind held on to
special I thought I saw in you
a truth that seemed to escape you

Life chose to reconnect we two
although I was not ready to
I met reality of you
an ego fiercely held on to

As a result we are now through
despite that I still manage to
give thanks for meeting the real you
so my heart could move on from you

dark

I turned dark in time with you
moved by attraction to you
did things that I should not do
things I knew better than to

captured video of you
replayed endlessly on loop
while you slept stroked it to you
thoughts of penetrating you

long time I had wanted you
closeness renamed me confused
distant went moral values
as I fought my want of you

knew love remained out of view
and like drifted away too
lesson realized with you
darkness I'm not immune to

ad

I

no longer here
no longer near
to deal
with this queer

life

appeal
to those who hear

live

end the strife
trite
distracting barriers
disintegrating the might
of life

ripe
you are

to

care
share
be present
be there

while you can

because the day will come
when you are taken from this land
when you will have missed your chance
to hold extended hand

when to reminisce
will prove useless
when you missed

this

appeal
against
trite

life

live
with
might

secrets

come down

horn sounds
cream comes down
splashes around
lust crowned
passion frowns
thinks what now
as cum drips down
emotions lose ground


unknown

he doesn't know
what I did
that I unzipped
let another suck it
not that my dick
was exclusively his
but there was a hint
of betrayal
to it
but then
he doesn't know
that I know
what he did
either


rift

this does not make sense
I hate your presence
but I
long to be within
maybe
ego wants distance
so it
manifests silence
I can
not erect a bridge
my thoughts
are far too clouded
you do
not seem interested
so our
rift daily widens


Signed,
Lazy

tired of independent

I'm tired of screaming independent, I want to start depending on you...


cool

I
check the appearance of my skin
because I know I am going to see you

I
pull three shirts out of my closet
hate the first and the other two

I
know if I tell jokes you will laugh
but think my words will lose and I'll look the fool

I
hope you are still straight
so your eyes aren't tempted to cruise my hardened tool

I
am about to see you again
I am about to experience your cool

I
hope I can keep mine
I hope I can keep my cool


fly thick

tick, tick, tick
he is built thick
with that fly shit
my heart gets with

sharp mind?
check, tick
love sense?
check, tick
presence?
check, tick
big dick
awww, shit

keith sweated
i am twisted
by his fly thick
says my hard dick

tick, tick, tick
time
tick, tick, ticks
but
won't rush it
cause
he's worth it


Signed,
Interested

words of a thirtysomething

It's strange, this feeling that sometimes presents when I am alone. In the stillness I sense it, hope with a dash of fear, because my ego is desperately trying to hold on...

...but I'm too grown for that


ego

he is suffocating me
pressing pillow down firmly
I strike out and try to scream
but he is too strong for me

I have lived within him long
made him sing my endless song
made him change his name to wrong
made him think he was not strong

but he had to go and grow
recognize my presence know
if he does not murder me
he will be my casualty

now I lay here close to death
fighting until my last breath
knowing if he does kill me
he'll retain my memory


habit

my refusal
to take part in the illusion
you cling to
with your habitual I love you
is of benefit to us both
who have outgrown
the empty words that we both spoke
when we were emotionally broke
I choose not to cling to hope
or perpetuate the joke
so if you ask me for more dope
my answer will be (pause) nope


the last days of twenty

stroke, breathe
stroke, breathe

seed
bleeds

pick, pick, pick
scabs
make me sick
still
pick, pick, pick
prick

stroke
dick

sweet
treats

eat, eat, eat
eat sweets
eat meats

feed
gluttony

unhealthy
state of me

regret
connect

take him in
you love him

no
don't

stop
won't

think like that
not like that

old habits don't want to die
new spirit does not know why

as the twenties bid goodbye
and thirty is realized


Signed,
thirty

relax...it's just sex

"If you think you want to fuck someone, just talk to them and you probably won’t want to fuck them anymore." - Matt Siegel


click

mindless
I click

point
click

point
click

aroused
by it

point
click

point
click

display
you present

hot
trick

hot
prick

attention
you get

un
zip

stroke
dick

but is it worth it?


distraction

no
don't speak
I just want you
to fuck me

deep
dig deep
towards the within
you can reach

freak
no sleep
slut me
thrust inside of me

so
I release
fact that morning
you will leave


good fuck

when you say
you love me
with my cum
dripping
off your face
I know
you are lying
to yourself
so I sit
silently
remembering
when my heart
ached blindly
proclaiming love
to good fucks
that judged
my words of love
the end of us
the same way
I just decided
that we are done
while wondering
when
I became
the good fuck


Signed,
Epiphany

Baby Brown

I pray
Aaliyah is your angel now
baby boy
baby brown
baby spirit
torn down
unguarded
left to drown

your heart
will sit with me
sing to me
sweet melody
revealing
importance of a love true
beautiful boy
beautiful you


In response to the homophobic taunts of his young peers, eleven year old Carl Joseph Walker Hoover took his life

This thickness needs to thin

Signed,
Silent

Sex With a Poet

It happened so fast
i didn't even have time to think
she took hold of me;
i felt myself becoming weak
i shouldn't have done it
but how could i stop?;
namean, the tone of her voice
made my panties drop
my breathing became heavy...
and my heart was beating fast...
i wondered how long this sensation would last
damn.
she knew what she doing
she took no time;
she knew what she was pursuing
that spot between my thighs was
continuously throbbing
and it showed no sign of
anytime stopping
i don't think i ever felt this,
well not like this before
i just knew i was liking it for dam sure
her words drugged me;
my mind was on esctasy
damn her being with a poet
she fucked my brains out without even touching me.
~iCook

Edge

Please don’t push me

To that place where the walls

Are spiked with thorns

Where no baby will ever be born

Please don’t make me go there

Please don’t push me

Don’t push me over the edge

I might not be able to get back

Please don’t make me go there

It’s cold and dark and I’m scared

Of the person waiting there for me

With my face but insides so alien

That they make me cringe

Please don’t me push me to that place

Where I cannot see the sky no more

Where no seagull ever sings no Ocean

Ever roars

Please don’t push me to the place

Where there’s nothing but craziness

Don’t push me over my edge

This time I might not make it back

Shimmering

Calm thoughts bore me

Easy living tears me away

From that life – long pulse

Shouting through my being

Frightened routine scares me

Off and pushes me away

Fast forward into the arms of an

Unknown future

Where everything new is gold

And promised glimmer

Broad daylight makes everything

Seem plain and regular and bleak

But in the twilight zone

my Dust can shimmer.

Sensibility

The mind’s compass
is sensible
and keeps me on course but not quite true

The zeal of my heart
sends a bull
when a grazing steer or a calf would do

This coat of skin can
sense sable
when I’m warmly wrapped all over you

The soul’s paradox:
sins able
me to gaze into God’s face anew

Aspire

What do I aspire to be? A part of the declaration that starts with We.

We too are people of the United States, yet part of this country so many hates.

They carry banners that say we should die. No wonder so many live in a lie.

As long as I remember, I have been gay. Yet many insist, not born this way.

What do I aspire to be? An equal citizen in this country, the land of the free.

No harm have I cause to the world or mankind. If you took time to know, a good man you would find.

It is not my right, to judge or to hate. Yet you think yourself fit, to decide my fate.

If I were to die in my sleep tonight, by law my partner would have no right.

To decide matters as your spouse would, a right you take for granted, I wish I could.

So what do I aspire to be? A productive American for all to see.

So much love and passion I have in my soul. I won’t let your actions, have a toll.

I will struggle til I am where I need be. An equal citizen in this country, the land of the free.

Mystery

You the dragon that bears claws and

Fangs and buckled wings made of leather

That has never seen the light

You the tiger that leaps

From black-burned branches

Onto its unsuspecting prey

Always in the shadows more black

Than grey

You the falcon that circles high

And free above the mountainside

The sea the fields the land

Forever roaming limitless and

Always eager to escape

You so many things yet none

Turned fully into whole

You a pulsing living mystery

Forever alone

Never in need for company

Except your own.

Online Personal

In your self portrait

Shot back from the mirror,

The reflected flash obscures your face,

But highlights the sleek and warm contours

Of your torso’s veneer.

Like fulgent sunlight on a slickrock tower

It blinds and attracts my gaze,

Exposes the essence of transient desire,

And penetrates not just eternity

But also my better judgment.

M4M

pic, stat
fem, fat
ass, cock
bottom, top
short, tall
toilet stall
dom, sub
dem, repub
old, young
horny, hung
married, not
humble, hot
out, discreet
hotel meat
anal, oral
slut, moral
masc, fit
full of shit
str8, curious
gay, bi, furious
rant and rave
bear, shaved
down low
no show
safe, kink
daddy, twink
scripted roles
glory holes
ltr
pick-up bar
queen, ghost
hook-up, host
buddy, cub
body rub
ddf
vgl
ub2
should i tell
her the truth
faded youth
smooth, dark
in the park
seeking same
e-mail game

amidst all this
electric skin
no outlets wired
to plug me in

R.I.P. Gay Poetry... by Boyshadow

Foe or friend
it may all depend

but joined at the hip for the love of the pen
and men
…so we meet again

Let’s rewind time for those whose time at GayPoetry
may have been shorter than mine
It was a website for quite some time
Guys went there to free their mind
relax, spend time
and write something divine
but suddenly… it vanished in 2009.

It was a place to compare poetry from the comfort of home
in your underwear
yet we all had fun there
so compare it
to nowhere

But faster than he could ever walk out
it was lights out
The tiny sanctuary in the back of our minds
was wiped out
We tried to log in for about a week
to see if, maybe it was time out
But we slowly realized that Hope
is Optimistic Doubt
And if you didn’t have your poetry saved…
then you got assed-out

No warning… no nothing
it didn’t matter if you were in the middle of posting something
It didn’t matter if you had
one poem… or a hundred and something
Whether you suck… or you’re on to something

We were stuck with a pen in one hand
but nothing in the other
until we got a second wind
from our Brotha...
a fellow poetry lover

So I think it’s best if we all play our position
and maintain
the same tradition
Maintaining the peace here
is part of our religion
GP is gone
so now we use this one

I Pray, Too

Thanks to BrothaSoul for the invitation to this fresh space. On the way to the forefront...

In the spirit of introduction to The Gay Poetry Spot:


I Pray, Too

Like Ms. Angelou before me,
I pray these wings are gonna fit me,
that God won't punish me for trying to fly,
won't make me another Icarus, only to die
so close to reaching the sun,
'cause I gotta get off the ground if I don't wanna die,
gotta put on these new wings and learn how to fly,
or else I'll perish
from lack of wonderment,
lack of air.
I know you don't care,
'cause to you, I'm just another Mexican
screwing up in this world.
God forbid I be this brave,
or this bold.
You want me to stay on the ground,
away from all that's profound,
but I got plans to take me around
this world.

God, I pray these wings are gonna fit me
'cause I've never tried them on before,
never tried to get up off the floor,
but here I am, shooting for heights, unlike before,
when I just tried to
survive...

I want to be alive,
to know the sun of my own smile,
let it shine on me for a while--
let these new feather feels the air because,
listen, y'all:
I've got so much to share, you wouldn't believe.
Like Alicia Keys sings,
only joy comes from sorrow,
so tomorrow,
I plan to cash in on all I've been through;
I plan to hold on and cling to
my faith, which has brought me to this point,
where I pray to God,
"Please let these wings fit me.
Let me be happy so close to the sun
before you sing down your axe,
before you melt all the wax
from these delicate feathers."
Listen to my pleas as I'm down on my knees,
"God,
let
these
wings
fit
me,
or else you've doomed me

to an unfulfilled life,
full of nothing but strife,
with no hope of redemption."

I've paid my dues
feather by feather.
I've charged all I can to this account.
Don't make me sit and count on my fingers
every time they've lied,
every time I've cried,
every single sigh
that's passed through these lips,
every pair of hands that have grasped these hips
only to tear up these wings
so that I can only sing the blues.

And I love some Billie Holiday,
but I want my own day
to fly away from pain,
from all that has drained me.
Like Icarus before me,
I dare not to be scared of consequence,
to give way to wonderment
of all that's before me.

I just pray these wings are gonna fit me.

introduction to the spot

A couple of years ago I was introduced to the website Gay Poetry Online by a regular poster who was unaware that I shared her queer poetic inclinations. She spoke of the site in a moment of openness, offering that the site gave her an outlet for expressing her feelings creatively, in a forum that was, as far as she could tell, unprecedented on the internet. Her words spoke to me. I had recently discovered blogging, and in my journey discover my voice, I noticed that it most often manifested in verse. That reality seemed to place me among an additional minority in the blogosphere, so I was encouraged by the prospect of discovering voices I could brand my partners in rhyme.

For the past two years, Gay Poetry Online has allowed me the opportunity to explore and interact with a number of like minded poets, with fresh, personal takes on life. That is one of the primary reasons the website was ranked among my personal favorites.

A couple of hours ago I received an email from the poet I have claimed as my GPO favorite, hinting that the website outage I'd noticed a couple of days ago, seems to be permanent. It didn't take me long to decide that this was unacceptable.

So I have created this space for members of the seemingly offline treasure, to unveil their creative gems.

I chose Blogger as the platform, because I housed a personal blog here, and the fact that the address gaypoetry.blogspot.com was not claimed seemed an indication that this was a good decision. In order to allow posters as much creative license as possible, I believe that the best idea will be to add interested former members, as authors of this blog. The Blogger platform allows for up to 100 authors, who, if I understand the blog contribution process correctly, would be able to add and edit their works independently once approved as an author by me, who Blogger has titled mastibadministrator. I believe that said title comes with some moderation capabilities. Now, I am neither a fan of censorship, nor disrespect, so all I care to say about that at this point is that I am starting with a spirit of trust and a hope that the need for moderation will be minimal.

As far as the template of this infant blog is concerned, it may change as warranted. Currently, the previous post feature highlights the 10 newest posts, and the archive features monthly publications. In order to prevent the loss of work that sometimes happens when websites shut down unexpectedly, it might be a good idea to save a back up copy of your submissions. Some people may have lost their published work via GPO, and I would like to prevent that from happening with submissions to The Spot (which it seems I just decided will be the abbreviated name for this site). I will also share from personal experience that Blogger tends to like it best if you cut and paste your work from Microsoft Word. And as for the font, sometimes it's a roll of the dice as to whether or not it takes. Also, if you maintained a username at GPO, you might consider entering it as a label in your new posts, so that faithful readers can find your work easily.

So this is a call to former Gay Poetry Online members. If you would like to utilize this space to post your poetic proclamations, send an email to br.thas0ul@gmail.com hit me up on twitter expressing interest, so that I can take steps to add you as an author to the blog. If you were not a member of Gay Poetry Online, but would like to participate, please let me know as well.

A large part of me holds hope that Gay Poetry Online will be revived, because
this techinical junk is some bull$@!# it has been the home to the artistic soul of a number of quality queer poets. However whether or not the space reappears, this space will be here, to encourage silenced poetic voices to ring out loud and clear.
Signed,
brothasoul