Monday, April 27, 2009

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    Tuesday, April 21, 2009

    Little Boy Roger

    The crowd is growing,
    Louder, larger.
    The grief turns to rage,
    For little boy Roger.

    His classmates, his parents,
    Screaming, crying.
    Hurt shocked
    As he lied there, dying.

    The hallway if flooding,
    With blood and with people,
    And now with the priests,
    from all the town steeples.

    They're leading a prayer
    Of hope and of healing,
    Watching the boy,
    All of them kneeling.

    Here comes the doctors,
    The last to arrive,
    Not giving a care
    If he's even revived.

    Now Roger is dead,
    He's no longer here.
    All because he called Tom
    His darling, his dear.

    He loved him so truly,
    So honest, so pure.
    Apparently it was just to much
    For Tom to endure.

    Do you feel better? Do you like it?
    Can you even feel bad,
    For the 9 year old gay boy,
    With one mom and two dads?

    Poor Roger lost his life
    To a boy with a gun.
    It's done, but not over.
    The fight is not won.

    A Whole New World

    Hide the world. Paint it black.
    Erase the hate. Seal the cracks.

    Draw it up. All from scratch.
    Draw the world. No strings attached.

    Then give it color. Reds, blues, and greens.
    And all those colors. From in between.

    Paint it bright. Paint it high.
    Then challenge them. To touch the sky.

    Delete those thoughts. Of used-to-bes.
    Of never-evers. Of someday maybes.

    Fill your life. With heart and soul.
    With piece of mind. Now, you’re in control.

    Let's create this world. One that's free...
    Of cares, of hatred. One. For you and me.

    go-to gal

    you can see it.
    see it all.
    even as they try and hide it.

    the pain. the hurt.
    it's there.
    it's clear.

    behind gaurded eyes
    and side-tracked statements
    there's the hate they carry.

    humpty dumpty.
    there they fall.
    not just one, but all.

    you're the soldier.
    you're their friend.
    how could you let that be the end?

    they've been falling for so long.
    now they've hit the bottom.
    can you really be that selfish?

    darkness burns.
    the silence booms.
    and then it fades.

    is there nothing that can be done?

    How the Grinch Stole Gay Marriage

    How the Grinch Stole Marriage

    Every Gay down in Gayville liked Gay Marriage a lot......
    But the Grinch, who lived just east of Gayville, did NOT!!

    The Grinch hated happy Gays! The whole Marriage season!
    Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
    It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right.
    It could be, perhaps, his Florsheims were too tight.
    But I think the most likely reason of all was
    His heart and brain were two sizes too small.

    "And they're buying their tuxes!" he snarled with a sneer,
    "Tomorrow's the first Gay Wedding! It's practically here!"
    Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming,
    "I MUST find some way to stop Gay Marriage from coming!"

    For, tomorrow, he knew... All the Gay girls and boys
    would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their vows!
    And then! Oh, the Joys! Oh, the Joys!

    And THEN they'd do something he liked least of all!
    Every Gay down in Gayville the tall and the small,
    would stand close together, all happy and blissing.
    They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Gays would start kissing!

    "I MUST stop Gay Marriage from coming! ...But HOW?"

    Then he got an idea! An awful idea!

    "I know what to do!" The Grinch laughed in his throat.
    And he went to his closet, grabbed his sheet and his hood.
    And he chuckled, and clucked, with a great Grinchy word!
    "With this beard and this cross, I look just like our Lord!"

    "All I need is a Scripture..." The Grinch looked around.
    But, true Scripture is scarce, there was none to be found.
    Did that stop the old Grinch...? No! The Grinch simply said,
    "With no Scripture on Marriage, I'll fake one instead!"
    "It's one man and one woman," the Grinch falsely said.

    Then he broke in the courthouse. A rather tight pinch.
    But, if Georgie could do it, then so could the Grinch.
    The little Gay benefits hung in a row.
    "These bennies," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

    Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most uncanny,
    around the whole room, and he took every benny!
    Health care for partners! Doctors for kiddies!
    Tax rights! Adoptions! Pensions and Wills!
    And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grinch, with a chill,
    Stuffed all the bags, one by one, in his bill.

    Then he slunk to the kitchen, and stole Wedding Cake.
    He cleaned out that icebox and made it look straight.
    He took the Gay-bar keys! He took the Gay Flag.
    Why, that Grinch even took their last Gay birdseed bag!

    "And NOW!" grinned the Grinch, "I will pocket their Rings."
    And the Grinch grabbed the Rings, and he started to shove
    when he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.
    He turned around fast, and off flew his hood.
    Little Lisa-Bi Gay behind him sadly stood.
    The Grinch had been caught by small Lisa-Bi.
    She stared at the Grinch and said, "My, oh, my, why?"
    "Why are you taking our Wedding Rings? WHY?"

    But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick
    He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
    "Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Shepherd sneered,
    "The judges are evil, the other states weird."
    "I'll fix the rings there and I'll bring them back here."

    It was quarter past dawn... All the Gays, still a-bed,
    all the Gays still a-snooze when he packed up and fled.
    "Pooh-Pooh to the Gays!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.
    "They're finding out now no Gay Marriage is coming!"
    "Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
    then the Gays down in Gayville will all cry Boo-Hoo!"

    He stared down at Gayville! The Grinch popped his eyes!
    Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!
    Every Gay down in Gayville, the tall and the small,
    was kissing! Without any bennies at all!
    He HADN'T stopped Marriage from coming! IT CAME!
    Somehow or other, it came just the same!

    And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
    stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?"
    "It came without lawyers, no papers to sort!"
    "It came without licenses, came without courts!"
    And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
    Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!

    "Maybe Marriage," he thought, "doesn't come from the court.
    Maybe Marriage...perhaps... comes right from the heart.
    Maybe Marriage comes from all the words the Gays say.
    Words like Husband, like Wedding, and Spouse who is Gay."
    And what happened then...? Gayville they say
    that the Grinch's small brain grew three sizes that day!

    And the Gays had their Weddings. They promised for life.
    They swore to be faithful, to Wife and her Wife.
    The Husbands were happy, to each other they vowed
    To be Out and be Honest, be Gay and be Proud.
    They told all their neighbors and friends of their Spouse,
    They told of their Marriage and sharing their house.
    They said "We got Married." They shouted it loud.
    Their marital status was "Married and Proud."

    And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight,
    He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light.
    And he brought back the rings, cake and Gay birdseed bags!
    And he... ...HE HIMSELF... hung the Gay Rainbow Flag!
    The Lord looked down, at the proud and the tall,
    and said "These are my children, and I love them all."

    The moral of this story is that we don't need a piece of paper and the approval of the state to get married. We can just get married. Instead of having a committment ceremony, we can have a wedding. Instead of partners, we can have husbands and wives. Instead of calling our relationship a Domestic Partnership or a Civil Union, we can call it a Marriage. Whether any government recognizes it is separate from what we call it. It's a free country and we can call ourselves what we like.
    In 5 or 10 or 20 years, with plenty of visible same-sex married couples, the world won't see us as strange or scary, we're just the married couple down the street that happens to be gay. Eventually, the legal recognization of our marriages will follow.

    If we allow ourselves to voluntarily sit in the back of the bus, we'll never make any progress. Rosa Parks had to sit in the front of the bus to make a difference. We must as well.

    Copyright (c) 2004 by Mary Ann Horton. Permission granted to copy in whole, with attribution.

    the list

    turning to me,
    you smile sweetly for a moment.
    then your face shifts before me.
    turning to a look of devilish proportions.
    you lick your lips and lean into me.
    grazing my lips softly.
    as a sigh releases your lips.
    one tender moment.
    but then we part.
    for you have someone else.
    he is holding you tight.
    watching silently as i walk away.
    when i am gone, he leans in to kiss you.
    then comes another.
    the way you tease each other.
    it's just tantalizing.
    you kiss her, and she kisses you back.
    sharing that cookie that was placed,
    just so, between your lips.
    as your guy sits back and watches.
    loving every moment.
    and we really can't be jealous
    because at least we made the list.
    now all i can dream of is
    that maybe someday,
    i will be yours and you will be mine.
    but for now i am content.
    as i close my eyes
    and i savor the touch
    of your lips on mine
    and the way you held my hand.

    Why gays should *cough* not *cough* be married...

    01) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.

    02) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.

    03) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.

    04) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.

    05) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Britany Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.

    06) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.

    07) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.

    08) Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.

    09) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.

    10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.

    Be The Change You Wish To See

    I am the support she never had.
    I am the rock she now stands upon.
    I am the the classes she is not afraid to take.
    I am that child whose life she saved with just one smile.
    I am the sense of family that she now has.
    I am the voice she now has.
    I am the friend who defied the hatred and harassment.
    I am the words that she is now longer afraid to tell.
    I am the warmth she emits through her day.
    I am the mom who knows now not to hate.
    I am the wall she has climbed over.
    I am the bridge she has crossed.
    I am the barricade she has broke down.
    I am the love of her life.
    I am the peace of mind.
    I am the happiness of companionship.
    I am myself.

    I am the one who told her I loved her even though she was gay.

    Was it a choice?

    What I've chosen is
    To love her.
    To be with only her.
    To hold her close no matter where we are or who is looking.
    To be the only one she wakes to in the morning.
    To be the support that her family never was to her.
    To care for her the way her peers never did.
    To be the person she relied on.
    To be the love of her life.
    To hopefully fulfill her life, as much as she is mine.
    To live every dream to its fullest, not knowing where it will end, not knowing if ours will be the same.
    To be strong for her, for the world.
    To not care what others think.
    To care about equal rights.
    To enforce love in as many lives as I can touch.

    What I've not chosen is
    To be ridiculed.
    To be labeled as a freak, a creep, a pervert, a second-class citizen.
    To be hurt.
    To be pushed aside.
    To never be able to marry.
    To be unequal from you.
    To be gay.

    My Vagina's Pissed

    "My Vagina's PISSED!

    Here we go, grab your favorite pair of underwear, and just sit down, enjoy!

    My vagina's angry. It is. It's pissed off. My vagina's furious and it needs to talk. It needs to talk about all this shit. It needs to talk to you. I mean what's the deal — an army of people out there thinking up ways to torture my poor-ass, gentle loving vagina. Spending their days constructing psycho products, and nasty ideas to undermine my pussy. Vagina Motherfuckers.

    All this shit they're constantly trying to shove up us, clean us up — stuff us up, make it go away. Well, my vagina's not going away. It's pissed off and it's staying right here. Like tampons — what the hell is that? A wad of dry fucking cotton stuffed up there. Why can't they find a way to subtly lubricate the tampon? As soon as my vagina sees it, it goes into shock. It says forget it. It closes up. You need to work with the vagina, introduce it to things, prepare the way. That's what foreplay's all about. You got to convince my vagina, seduce my vagina, engage my vagina's trust. You can't do that with a dry wad of fucking cotton.

    Stop shoving things up me. Stop shoving and stop cleaning it up. My vagina doesn't need to be cleaned up. It smells good already. Don't try to decorate. Don't believe him when he tells you it smells like rose petals when it's supposed to smell like pussy. That's what they're doing, trying to clean it up, make it smell like bathroom spray or a garden. All those douche sprays, floral, berry, rain. I don't want my pussy to smell like berries or rain. All cleaned up like washing a fish after you cook it. I want to taste the fish. That's why I ordered it.

    Then there's those exams. Who thought them up? There's got to be a better way to do those exams. Why the scary paper dress that scratches your tits and crunches when you lie down so you feel like a wad of paper someone threw away? Why the rubber gloves? Why the flashlight all up there like Nancy Drew working against gravity, why the Nazi steel stirrups, the mean cold duck lips they shove inside you? What's that? My vagina's angry about those visits. It gets defended weeks in advance. It won't go out of the house. Then you get there. Don't you hate that? "Scoot down. Relax your vagina." Why? So you can shove mean cold duck lips inside it. I don't think so.

    Why can't they find some nice delicious purple velvet and wrap it around me, lay me down on some feathery cotton spread, put on some nice friendly pink or blue gloves, and rest my feet in some fur covered stirrups? Warm up the duck lips. Work with my vagina.

    But no, more tortures — dry wad of fucking cotton, cold duck lips, and thong underwear. That's the worst. Thong underwear. Who thought that up? Moves around all the time, gets stuck in the back of your vagina, real crusty butt.

    Vagina's supposed to be loose and wide, not held together. That's why girdles are so bad. We need to move and spread and talk and talk. Vaginas need comfort. Make something like that. Something to give them pleasure. No, of course they won't do that. Hate to see a woman having pleasure, particularly sexual pleasure. I mean make a nice pair of soft cotton underwear with a French tickler built in. Women would be coming all day long, coming in the supermarket, coming on the subway, coming happy vaginas. They wouldn't be able to stand it. Seeing all those energized, not taking shit, hot happy vaginas.

    If my vagina could talk it would talk about itself like me, it would talk about other vaginas, it would do vagina impressions.

    It would wear Harry Winston diamonds, no clothing, just there all draped in diamonds.

    My vagina helped release a giant baby. It thought it would be doing more of that. It's not. Now, it wants to travel, doesn't want a lot of company. It wants to read and know things and get out more. It wants sex. It loves sex. It wants to go deeper. It's hungry for depth. It wants kindness. It wants change. It wants silence and freedom and gentle kisses and warm liquids and deep touch. It wants chocolate and trust and beauty. It wants to scream. It wants to stop being angry. It wants to come. It wants to want. It wants. My vagina, my vagina. Well...It wants everything."

    --EVE ENSLER in The Vagina Monologues