Queer Art and Poetry

[Luna_Wolf72]

I keep coming back

to see, to read and to debate with myself about adding a piece I posted ages ago in a thread here.

So far this is one of the BEST threads I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying in the GLBT forum.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

to see, to read and to debate with myself about adding a piece I posted ages ago in a thread here.

So far this is one of the BEST threads I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying in the GLBT forum.

And before my exile, I saw this and must respond. This thread is open to all. It is a free thinking thread. All may not like what we do. Please, post it. I'll go after anyone who is cruel about what is posted and tell them to go create ,"I Hate That Bitch Espie," thread. I'll contribute to that thread also. Constructive comment is appreciated, cruelty will not be tolerated. There is no reason for people to be cruel, not everyone is a poet, but all should be given a forum to express what is in them. They open their souls and bade us enter. We should respect their souls, even if we dislike the poetry. Poetry is DEEPLY personnel many times.

I would love to read it. You are so attractive, so rich and --mmm--you look good damnit. I need to see what is in that brain of yours! Now I'm going to have to read your stories too. I'm off to sleep. Head is falling on keyboard.

Thanks for visiting and think about it. I'll be back on Monday. Hopefully, my friend Jellybean will keep up with the thread for me.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

I Want

early morning sun gilding the pale pinkness that is you
Tasting of salt and sweat, hot and wet, a slit
your slit, my mouth. Magic.

to feel your inner velveteen softness convulse around
my fingers. Pulsations in cadence with my tongue
a rhythm of coming apart. Magic.

to see you; legs spread, back arched, eyes closed, and
whimpering. Soft sobbing from the heat, the moisture
that leaves you breathless. Magic.​

I decided to post one~(it is elsewhere on another site)

 

[haurni]

Very nice.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Very nice.

Thank you. I very rarely put my own words up, especially when they are a personal desire like the above and yet, this thread has given me much to read and learn. I just wanted to contribute.

 

[fridayam]

I Want

early morning sun gilding the pale pinkness that is you
Tasting of salt and sweat, hot and wet, a slit
your slit, my mouth. Magic.

to feel your inner velveteen softness convulse around
my fingers. Pulsations in cadence with my tongue
a rhythm of coming apart. Magic.

to see you; legs spread, back arched, eyes closed, and
whimpering. Soft sobbing from the heat, the moisture
that leaves you breathless. Magic.​

I decided to post one~(it is elsewhere on another site)

This is lovely, so sensuous. May I query one word? "Velveteen" is an unnatural fabric and feels wrong, when "velvet" would be better, I hope you don't mind, as I do love the poem.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

This is lovely, so sensuous. May I query one word? "Velveteen" is an unnatural fabric and feels wrong, when "velvet" would be better, I hope you don't mind, as I do love the poem.

I didn't like the rhythm of velvet. I have performed this out loud and the beat didn't work. (Though I completely agree with your assessment. I do spoken word and I love to hear what I write. Velvet just didn't work for what I wanted but thank you.)

 

[fridayam]

I didn't like the rhythm of velvet. I have performed this out loud and the beat didn't work. (Though I completely agree with your assessment. I do spoken word and I love to hear what I write. Velvet just didn't work for what I wanted but thank you.)

It's funny, because I was saying it out loud too, and the repeated two-syllables of "inner velvet softness" sounded good, as did all of it. But it is your poem and I am not going to query your judgement. It is a lovely, liquid sound and worthy of wider reknown. Thank you.

 

[Gi_Venus]

I Want

early morning sun gilding the pale pinkness that is you
Tasting of salt and sweat, hot and wet, a slit
your slit, my mouth. Magic.

to feel your inner velveteen softness convulse around
my fingers. Pulsations in cadence with my tongue
a rhythm of coming apart. Magic.

to see you; legs spread, back arched, eyes closed, and
whimpering. Soft sobbing from the heat, the moisture
that leaves you breathless. Magic.​

I decided to post one~(it is elsewhere on another site)

Tis lovely thank you Luna.

 

[haurni]

A true story

Will I? Won't I?

I remember way back when
The two of us were but young boys
And to whom but the best of friends
Should curiosity give voice?

I wistfully recall the night
My skin was hot and my voice shook
Forcing words through throat gone tight
I asked, so nervous, can I look?

I stroked it with my fingertips
In awe I beheld your erection
It for a moment felt my lips
Did you share my tense elation?

Another summer, later, marred
By boredom, adolescent tension
You laid yourself upon me, hard
Sick I was with apprehension

No fear, your needs I would not mock
Mine were the same, I was struck dumb
So wordlessly I sucked your cock
Urgent, wanting you to cum

I liked it but you didnt find it
A tryst for which you really cared
You didnt want to be reminded
Of those erotic moments we had shared

Though we never talked of it
For me the thought was in the air
I'd light a joint and take a hit
And find my mind was drifting there

Always furtive and unspoken
Hidden 'til my loins remind me
Eventually, our friendship broken,
I tried to put it all behind me

But I can't easily forget it
Though many years have come and gone
I still am yearning to be bedded
I want a king to take my pawn

Now I find myself out seeking
Afraid to even go at all
At towelled torsos sidewise peeking
While wandering this dim-lit hall

Others do it, don't deride me
I came here in anticipation
I wished to feel a cock inside me
But fled without the consummation

This war of lust and nerves is killing
I need to satisfy this yearning
It's part of me that needs fulfilling
And thus I'm sure I'll be returning

 

[Gi_Venus]

Will I? Won't I?

I remember way back when
The two of us were but young boys
And to whom but the best of friends
Should curiosity give voice?

I wistfully recall the night
My skin was hot and my voice shook
Forcing words through throat gone tight
I asked, so nervous, can I look?

I stroked it with my fingertips
In awe I beheld your erection
It for a moment felt my lips
Did you share my tense elation?

Another summer, later, marred
By boredom, adolescent tension
You laid yourself upon me, hard
Sick I was with apprehension

No fear, your needs I would not mock
Mine were the same, I was struck dumb
So wordlessly I sucked your cock
Urgent, wanting you to cum

I liked it but you didnt find it
A tryst for which you really cared
You didnt want to be reminded
Of those erotic moments we had shared

Though we never talked of it
For me the thought was in the air
I'd light a joint and take a hit
And find my mind was drifting there

Always furtive and unspoken
Hidden 'til my loins remind me
Eventually, our friendship broken,
I tried to put it all behind me

But I can't easily forget it
Though many years have come and gone
I still am yearning to be bedded
I want a king to take my pawn

Now I find myself out seeking
Afraid to even go at all
At towelled torsos sidewise peeking
While wandering this dim-lit hall

Others do it, don't deride me
I came here in anticipation
I wished to feel a cock inside me
But fled without the consummation

This war of lust and nerves is killing
I need to satisfy this yearning
It's part of me that needs fulfilling
And thus I'm sure I'll be returning

I love the openness of this poem, sexuality is so often a thing of shame. A poignant moment held wistfully and cherished.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

I Want

early morning sun gilding the pale pinkness that is you
Tasting of salt and sweat, hot and wet, a slit
your slit, my mouth. Magic.

to feel your inner velveteen softness convulse around
my fingers. Pulsations in cadence with my tongue
a rhythm of coming apart. Magic.

to see you; legs spread, back arched, eyes closed, and
whimpering. Soft sobbing from the heat, the moisture
that leaves you breathless. Magic.​

I decided to post one~(it is elsewhere on another site)

Thank you Luna Wolf. I think its cool you perform your poetry. It's hard to describe the experience of feeling a throbbing pussy with your fingers and tongue, one must experience it to believe the subtle richness of the quivers. You've done it with grace, and I'd love to see this at a live performance (the poetry reading, well, uhm, the other wouldn't be too bad also). Good fortune and hope to see many future endeavors.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

Will I? Won't I?

I remember way back when
The two of us were but young boys
And to whom but the best of friends
Should curiosity give voice?

I wistfully recall the night
My skin was hot and my voice shook
Forcing words through throat gone tight
I asked, so nervous, can I look?

I stroked it with my fingertips
In awe I beheld your erection
It for a moment felt my lips
Did you share my tense elation?

Another summer, later, marred
By boredom, adolescent tension
You laid yourself upon me, hard
Sick I was with apprehension

No fear, your needs I would not mock
Mine were the same, I was struck dumb
So wordlessly I sucked your cock
Urgent, wanting you to cum

I liked it but you didnt find it
A tryst for which you really cared
You didnt want to be reminded
Of those erotic moments we had shared

Though we never talked of it
For me the thought was in the air
I'd light a joint and take a hit
And find my mind was drifting there

Always furtive and unspoken
Hidden 'til my loins remind me
Eventually, our friendship broken,
I tried to put it all behind me

But I can't easily forget it
Though many years have come and gone
I still am yearning to be bedded
I want a king to take my pawn

Now I find myself out seeking
Afraid to even go at all
At towelled torsos sidewise peeking
While wandering this dim-lit hall

Others do it, don't deride me
I came here in anticipation
I wished to feel a cock inside me
But fled without the consummation

This war of lust and nerves is killing
I need to satisfy this yearning
It's part of me that needs fulfilling
And thus I'm sure I'll be returning

My friend! How are you and thank you for posting again. Lemme see what you have going on here. Yes, I feel it. The retelling of an adolescent experience and then eventual loss of friendship. My first true girlfriend in HS was queer like me, so I didn't have a loss, so to speak. But oh, the girls showers would drive me crazy with need. If my friends on my basketball team only knew. Come to think of it, some of them probably did, and might have liked my looks. It was hard to deny the need to look, to touch was even worse, so I didn't until I found a first girlfriend. My first girl kisses were very young (middle school), but there was no sex involved. Really just excuses to practice for the boys, but it was so much more for me. I knew when I was very young I was different, but still only completely came out one short year and a few months ago. Jeez, guess that genie will never go back in.

I am queer, and proud of it. I love women, all of their parts, their smells, their taste. To pretend otherwise is to deny myself what is my natural state of being. I respect you for what you are, just be true to yourself, straight, bi, trans, queer. To dent ourselves the pleasure of our natural state is sure to leave us depressed, forever battling inner daemons.

Shucks, didn't mean to become preachy. This is supposed to be a poetry and art thread. Sowwy. I have a poetry recommendation next. A new poet at lit who just posted.

http://esperanzahidalgo.smugmug.com/Other/avis/luvwrong/882808250_VQEgV-O.gif

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

NeonSubtlety

Posted some poems recently that I like bunches. Take a look. I've asked for permission to post them on the thread. I do like the ones who has at lit. You can look here.

I didn't explain myself very well. I have not heard back from him yet to see if I can post directly on the thread.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Thank you Luna Wolf. I think its cool you perform your poetry. It's hard to describe the experience of feeling a throbbing pussy with your fingers and tongue, one must experience it to believe the subtle richness of the quivers. You've done it with grace, and I'd love to see this at a live performance (the poetry reading, well, uhm, the other wouldn't be too bad also). Good fortune and hope to see many future endeavors.

*blushing*

Thank you. Spoken word is awesome. Love the beats, the pauses. I hardly ever hear erotic spoken word unless I am the one speaking it but that is quite fine with me. I love this thread. Love the vibe, the meaning behind what I find here. It makes me utterly happy.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

*blushing*

Thank you. Spoken word is awesome. Love the beats, the pauses. I hardly ever hear erotic spoken word unless I am the one speaking it but that is quite fine with me. I love this thread. Love the vibe, the meaning behind what I find here. It makes me utterly happy.

When I write poetry a beat always drums through my head. Funny thing is often it's AC/DC and Highway to Hell!

Truth.

I love that you love this humble thread. Poetry means a lot to me. IDK why, I am such a crybaby.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

http://cache2.artprintimages.com/p/LRG/16/1630/M3DGD00Z/lesbian-jungle.jpg

You can get this here (I get nothing for a referral)

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

http://cache2.artprintimages.com/p/LRG/8/849/BENY000Z/women-in-tub.jpg

Here

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

http://cache2.artprintimages.com/p/LRG/8/849/5ENY000Z/joe-phillips-girls-will-be-girls.jpg

Here

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

http://cache2.artprintimages.com/p/LRG/7/734/D91Z000Z/dieter-weidlich-angel.jpg

Here

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

Origin of the World

http://cache2.artprintimages.com/p/LRG/23/2370/N3HJD00Z/gustave-courbet-the-origin-of-the-world-1866.jpg

by Gustave Courbet

Here

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

Untitled [You did say, need me less and I'll want you more]
by Marilyn Hacker

You did say, need me less and I'll want you more.
I'm still shellshocked at needing anyone,
used to being used to it on my own.
It won't be me out on the tiles till four-
thirty, while you're in bed, willing the door
open with your need. You wanted her then,
more. Because you need to, I woke alone
in what's not yet our room, strewn, though, with your
guitar, shoes, notebook, socks, trousers enjambed
with mine. Half the world was sleeping it off
in every other bed under my roof.
I wish I had a roof over my bed
to pull down on my head when I feel damned
by wanting you so much it looks like need.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

Lullaby
by W. H. Auden

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's carnal ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of welcome show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness find you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

Love Incarnate
by Frank Bidart

(Dante, Vita Nuova)


To all those driven berserk or humanized by love
this is offered, for I need help
deciphering my dream.
When we love our lord is LOVE.

When I recall that at the fourth hour
of the night, watched by shining stars,
LOVE at last became incarnate,
the memory is horror.

In his hands smiling LOVE held my burning
heart, and in his arms, the body whose greeting
pierces my soul, now wrapped in bloodred, sleeping.

He made him wake. He ordered him to eat
my heart. He ate my burning heart. He ate it
submissively, as if afraid as LOVE wept.

 

[Esperanza_Hidalgo]

The Distant Moon
by Rafael Campo

I

Admitted to the hospital again.
The second bout of pneumocystis back
In January almost killed him; then,
He'd sworn to us he'd die at home. He baked
Us cookies, which the student wouldn't eat,
Before he left--the kitchen on 5A
Is small, but serviceable and neat.
He told me stories: Richard Gere was gay
And sleeping with a friend if his, and AIDS
Was an elaborate conspiracy
Effected by the government. He stayed
Four months. He lost his sight to CMV.

II

One day, I drew his blood, and while I did
He laughed, and said I was his girlfriend now,
His blood-brother. "Vampire-slut," he cried,
"You'll make me live forever!" Wrinkled brows
Were all I managed in reply. I know
I'm drowning in his blood, his purple blood.
I filled my seven tubes; the warmth was slow
To leave them, pressed inside my palm. I'm sad
Because he doesn't see my face. Because
I can't identify with him. I hate
The fact that he's my age, and that across
My skin he's there, my blood-brother, my mate.

III

He said I was too nice, and after all
If Jodie Foster was a lesbian,
Then doctors could be queer. Residual
Guilts tingled down my spine. "OK, I'm done,"
I said as I withdrew the needle from
His back, and pressed. The CSF was clear;
I never answered him. That spot was framed
In sterile, paper drapes. He was so near
Death, telling him seemed pointless. Then, he died.
Unrecognizable to anyone
But me, he left my needles deep inside
His joking heart. An autopsy was done.

IV

I'd read to him at night. His horoscope,
The New York Times, The Advocate;
Some lines by Richard Howard gave us hope.
A quiet hospital is infinite,
The polished, ice-white floors, the darkened halls
That lead to almost anywhere, to death
Or ghostly, lighted Coke machines. I call
To him one night, at home, asleep. His breath,
I dreamed, had filled my lungs--his lips, my lips
Had touched. I felt as though I'd touched a shrine.
Not disrespectfully, but in some lapse
Of concentration. In a mirror shines

The distant moon.