Out There, LA Art Association & Gallery 825’s Special Pride Event Show, Summer 2015
Faggot. A vibration like any word,
Yet it cries with an adrenaline surge.
Neutering sound, it’s still to often heard;
There is a cost to this offensive dirge:
‘Faggot,’ a little boy catches the sound,
Which arrows places both soft and sacred,
Striking the heart that Love has yet to found,
Leaving him, a child cold and naked.
Faggot! A Siren’s song throughout the years,
Immutable as his natural want,
It weaves the noose with violating jeers –
A suicide statistic for a taunt.
Children, consider more than just their hate;
Your out brothers will help carry the weight.
From my notes:
I dedicate this poem to October and LGBT Awareness Month. After reading about more bullycides and being called a faggot in front of my school this month, I decided to pen a poem about the word. This is the result.
It is my great hope that young people discovering their identities feel a sense of community rather than a world built upon hatred. Please share; help end homophobia. (2012?)
Equal Magazine, a new LGBT creative magazine, just launched a demo edition online. I was selected among other interesting artists and poets for publication. My sonnet, “Faggot,” and “Pop Package,” a digital art piece, were chosen for their launch. Please click through for a look at the magazine and subscribe. Subscriptions are free.
“Faggot” and “Pop Package” can also be seen in the Poesy and Fine Art tabs respectively.
Gods! Set Love and make we two her satellites
Where we’ll form a bright singularity,
Bending her like accretion disks do light,
Disregarding space, time, and gravity.
Or make of us one great constellation,
Brightly shining like heroes of yesteryear,
And seat us high in that god-like station
Beyond this terrestrial atmosphere.
Across the aeons of this universe,
Let poets spy us through great telescopes,
Composing songs in strange, alien verse
Or epics to inspire bold lover’s hopes.
Yea, Gods! Behold our unparalleled love
And fix it in that vast, frontier above.
The image above is NGC 6302 from Hubble Images.
The problem with Patience is the way she flies,
How she flakes and hides or wears a disguise;
She only comes ’round when needed the least,
Never before I’ve turned into a beast.
Where are you, dear, now I’m stuck in traffic,
Trapped between all the smog, glass, and plastic?
As hours grow long, it’s Patience I miss
When caught at the office as things go amiss.
I imagine her off playing at tasks,
Sipping her Starbucks and lounging, relaxed;
She’s gone for a pedi, manicure too;
I know this because she’s never with you.
Oh, the problem with Patience is that she flies;
She’ll promise you calm, just know that she lies.
When the stars are lost behind a cloudy haze,
It’s downward we happily turn our gaze,
For Earthward are myriad twinkling lights
Reflecting lost stars through the darkest nights.
And when the moon covers her glowing face,
It’s to the lighted towers that we race;
There among the illuminated street
Are smiling faces to raucously greet.
The lights strung high with electric wire
Wink into our hearts like a roaring fire;
Filled with energy, we embrace and play
Until the night descends and fades away.
Then with the vibrant, newly risen sun,
We set out in the light to have more fun.