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Identity Why am I the way I am?
That is the question that every gay, lesbian and bisexual person asks himself or herself. Fundamentally it is a spiritual question for behind it are deeper religious questions like:
The following poems reflect a variety of experiences which are part of the struggle to embrace one's own sexual identity within oneself and before God. The "coming-out" process takes place from the beginning to the end of the journey.
- My God, why me, why do I have to be lesbian?
- Can you love me this way?
- How can I accept these feelings that I have been taught are wrong?
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Gay, Bi, Straight Or?? It's Hell |
| Longing To |
| On The Brain |
| One Thousand Eyes |
| Secret World |
| The Voices |
| Why Be So Unkind? |
Why Be So Unkind? Is there a way to solace my distress?
I'm getting old. Who'll hire me? Who will take
Advantage of my only gift, to bless,
To see, to simplify, to hear, to break
Illusions into myriad sparkling lights,
All fireflys, all atomic, disparate holes
In night-black, stage-dark, scrim-swept sights,
Delusions, Genet's, ballets, ritual roles,
And out of it to lead, as Lear was led,
A man or woman, human, hurting life
To get behind the screen, to where all bled
Of hatred there is neither love nor strife?
How can I lead, and yet be so behind?
My Lord, my Leader, why be so unkind?-- Peter Oliphant 16/8/86
it's hell
being bi
that's all I can tell you.it's hell being bi
and married
and you are there
and I see you
and feel you
and smell youand I am married
and I am bi
and you
are thereit's hell
that's all I can tell you.-- Naomi Redde
I'm tired of calling people gay or straight,
As if the opposite were mournful, or
Were somehow crooked. What these words relate
Are lonely stories told in metaphor.
Compassion calls those gay who cover needs
For hugs and consolation with veneers
Of poorly scripted plays -- their brilliant deeds
Of war against their hollow, hungry fears.
And straights are those supposed to have it all:
They know their goals and get there. Also false!
Such dream projections flutter on a wall
Behind which real men stumble their life's waltz.
Why fantasise? Behind was love, ahead
Invites unmasking, now before we're dead.-- Peter Oliphant 28/8/86
why do i get
this gay thing
on the brain???THIS GAY THING
with images of you
and me
togethernot doing much
just being ...
together.you...who i've never really met.
two women
face to face.why does it cloud my mind
and occupy my senses?
i think i want my mother,
the eternal female presence.
this ethereal soul,
i search for her.
i search for God.i want this female spirit
to wrap me up,
to swallow me whole,
to hold me for a
long, long, time.
to permeate my very soul.i call it gay
for lack of words...
this gay thing
but that's not it;
i don't know what
it really is...it's warm and female
and holds me close
and tells me i am loved as me.-- Naomi Redde
The Voices
the voices
speak
to the question...nothing is a brilliant colour
standing out
against the background
standing on its own.nothing
is black and white
and boldly leads...there is only
this question
this journeythis plain grey journey.
there is only
this journey
now.-- Ruth Mclean
Longing To
longing to touch you,
i am.the attraction ........
your skin
your warmth
your smile.i look into your eyes
and know ...
longing to touch me,
you are.i see myself reflected in you
and i like it.
i want to experience
us, together...but, my world my prison,
demands a different tune.
erected barriers remain strong,
intact dividing us .........friendsfamilyassociatesstrangers,
mindless blurs amidst the fog .......they won't accept
our eyes meeting,
our souls dancing,
my heart holding you
in joyful abandon.so that ....
longing to touch youi silently remain.
-- Ruth Mclean
Secret World
i dream about
you
at night
in my secret world
and
you still want me
you still want me.no one can touch us there
no one can spoil
the unfolding.i see you
i am with you...
smell the
sweet familiar fragrance
of your hair
bury my face
and breathe you in.i act out my fantasy
i act out the scenes
i miss.you are alive at night
a willing partner
in the dance
a willing partner
in my secret world.no worry no fears
about
wounds wars tears.i don't have to hide
or be hidden
i don't have to camouflage
my actions
or desires.i just dream
alone
in my secret world.
why do you ask me
when
i do not know.why do you taunt me
when
i am confused.your questions swarm
close to my face,
disturbance throngs
inside my flesh,my tongue is thick
i am struck dumb.the hornets want to sting my eyes ...
i try to keep the drones at bay.one thousand eyes
are watching me
watching me watching you
waiting for you to speak
to
me
to tell me everything.
(whatisitlike howdoesitfeel
isitsogood isitthebest?)i am consumed
i want to know your every thing.instead i wait
so carefully ......
each word i speak
is metered out
scrupulously weighed pondered
afraid ...
afraid to give the wrong idea
afraid to wrong
when i don't know
what right is ... any more ...sensing perceiving
new darkness being born in me
a growing limb which reaches out
and tries to choke my sanitythis growing limb
which starts to strangle ...
one thousand eyes
i want to leave
the hornets sting my outer shell
i want to hide my
inner mei don't know who these voices are
that tear me here
that tear me
here.why do you ask me
when
i do not know.why do you taunt me
when
i can't respond.-- Ruth Mclean
