Yes, I know there is a poem forum but These are gay poems I wrote in class today. I started one, but this guy who kept staring at me influenced me to start another. I will post that one first, and then the other one. The first one is in two parts because I think the first part could be its own poem. Let me know what u think Staring Contest -pt 1 He stares at me. I stare back. Does he stare at me Because he likes what he sees? Or does he stare at me Because what he sees Is myself staring at him, For I do like what I see. I try to rationalize the situation It always comes down to this duality: Is he gay or is it just me? Is he gay or is it just me? Staring Contest- pt 2 And now she stares in my direction I quickly glance away. I hope she doesn't like what she sees For the fact that I am gay. And although she's real cute That's all I have to say. She'd be wasting her time. I don't swing that way. Once again his eyes swing back. We make eye-contact. His eyes swing back, And we make eye-contact. The cycle repeats, Unfortunately. I ask myself again Is he gay or is it just me?
Progress Living in hiding While I try abiding To the social norms Of the straight crowd. "Dude, she's so hot." Although I think not. I lie. Afraid to voice my True feelings out loud. Why do I think this way? Why do I feel this way? Why do I love this way, This love that makes me gay? We were born this way We did not choose to be gay; To be criticized for no reason, That would be absurd. Unaccepted by the masses Our progress like molasses Slowly but surely Our voices will be heard. Why can't I think this way? Why can't I feel this way? Why can't I love this way, This love that makes me gay? Let's let love unfurl Whether it be guy or girl; woman on woman; man on man; Or a combination of the above Yes, many find it taboo But we're just like you, Our preferences may differ But in the end, love is love. I think this way. I feel this way. I love this way. I am gay!
Dude that is increadable - soooooo true not just to the gay comunitie but to everyone. E.g. in the sense that not all people will acpet us.
fevered desires cloaked in gray clothes straighten'd hiding me away after my 40 thats my time to be myself in my time alex (straight by day........)
oh how i wish you could see me when I'm out of here and in the swimm delicious feelings on my skin and tension in the air of him, him, him
staring at Jenna Cooper honestly that women is ugly she was agrivating me the other day at hockey for some reason my brother plays it, i dont like this buzz, a hit of Necro that's what you need, Necro and viagra and be leathal, thats it
These are great, heres one I wrote before I came out, even to myself that I'm bi, Wet Jeans The cold comforting grasp of rain soaked jeans as I sit in class The last time: both our pants drying in the bathroom heavy on the hooks with their cold weight, dripping from the frayed ends, pooling on the floor next to four wet shoes, all of it threatening mildew after we ran splick-splashing down the sidewalk, back from biology on that wet morning. Now: No longer roommates, no longer running in the rain. I'll see him again and talk of life, the weather, nothing at all really. Yet I'll hug him and hang around in the the post-downpour mist of this friendship as we talk of the heat, the humidity, and the rain.
