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bluepenstemon · 2 months

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“you’ll never find love if you can’t love yourself.”

he showed me the silver lining of the stormy clouds. he reminded me of the fresh smell when the rain hits the ground. he reminded me that every storm has a purpose. he reminded me that every storm eventually passes.

i did not love myself for a long time. i still don’t entirely, but i don’t despise the person i am. how can i hate someone he adores? he loves me so much that i believe maybe i can love me some day too.

he makes me excited for the future, when the future used to be my greatest fear. i would live forever if it meant i could live with him throughout it all.

i did not love myself before i loved him, but now i think i can start to.

#love poems #loving you makes me love myself #gay #gay poems #poetry #gay poetry #boyfriends #mental health #mental health poetry #relationship #hopecore

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quinnhpm · 7 months

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SAD GAY VAMPIRE POEMS II

two vampire exes writing poems to each other across time, brooding on undeath, quantum physics, the ancient past, the apocalyptic future, and a love they can't forget.

the sequel to Sad Gay Vampire Poems, which has been reviewed as “Possibly the best thing I've ever bought in my life.” and “These are actually really good.” [thanks gay etsy reviewers, you're funny as hell]

Read Poem I.

when all others are gone you slither in and say ‘I am the only love you need me like running the horizon down’

sometimes I miss it, I’ll give you that

I’m not thinking of you but the future, the blasted planet death you denied floating lonely where no particles exist to warm in the sun’s change

how far can we get? how many moons to reflect lifedeath, how waters run?

when sounds change at distance and lights change at distance and time a zoetrope unfolds and you, bitchpast, clinging with your certain ways?

i’ll give you that

#poetry #poems #zines #artists on tumblr #gay poems #queer poems #queer art #gay art #vampires #monsters #gothic

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buckieduckie2 · 1 year

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I wanna talk about a hyperfixation of mine: a little but of Queer History- W.H. Auden and gay poets

i would like to share with you a little bit of queer history, not super in depth but i want to share it with anyone whos not aware nonetheless (also i have no idea how many people know about this, so if this turns into a "oh everybody knows THAT"... hush. i dont care.

Okay, so a while ago I had to do a project on some poets asigned to me and write a short bio on them, talking about their life and career and things like that. So to get our information, our teacher had us looking in the archives and read a larger biography already written on them.... yeah.

So as I was reading this biography, i came across a part discussing his collaborators and one of the paragraphs mentioned W.H. Auden writing librettos with “Chester Kallman, an American poet and close friend who lived with him for more than 20 years," BITCH be so frrr 💀💀💀

So I read that like and immediately was like, hmm that sounds familiar 😐.... 🤨 but then I read farther into the biography and it said he had a wife and he was also super Christian so i was like... aw gUeSs hEs nOt gAy 😞

So yeah then I had to include a poem if his on the little infographic we were all making so i found one that I really, really liked called "Stop All The Clocks"

Stop All the Clocks

by W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Wow that poem is reall beautiful and really, really heartbreaking.

Yeah so I read that poem and immediately noticed the use of He/Him pronouns and thought... thats gay Soooooooo what did I do? I looked up if he was gay or not! And you know what google said? Yeah! He was!

One google search told me more about this man than an official archive with professionals 😐

W.H. Audens lifelong partner was Chester Kallman, and they translated/wrote (?) librettos together <3

Didn't you say he was super Christian tho...

Yeah, I did, and yeah, he was. But guess what? Gay people can be Christians too, and this man managed to do it in the fucking 40s till his death in '73. Albeit this came with many struggles internally, he still lived with Kallman till his death. So yeah, gay people had happy endings back then, even the religious ones :)

He also had some pretty rocking views on religion. Auden, thoughout his younger life, hadn't ever been part of any faith until a trip to Spain... we could get into that but we won't. Anyways, his pretty rocking opinion on religion? Don't force it on children. It's dumb and it brainwashes them cause they can't make the decision themselves. He probably said it better but you get my point.

Also he had a lot of kick-ass political opinions too.

Wait but didn't you say he had a wife?

Yeah but like, what gay man in the last 1084308394 centuries didnt? I mean c'mon.

Anyways so heres where things really start kicking....

W.H. Auden's wife was Erika Mann. Erika Mann was an actress from Germany, and the only reason she married W.H. Auden was so she could get an American passport.

And GUESS WHAT??? She was a lesbian.

MUAHAHAHHAA anyways.

Erika Mann also had a lover named Therese Giehse, a German actress as well who was introduced to John Hampson, an English novelist, via Auden. Hampson and Giehse both married so they could to go to the United States.

Anyways so things got more fun when I found out that Erika's brother was also gay. :DDDDD

His name was Klaus Mann, and he was an openly gay man. I don't want to get into too much detail here though because his life was tragic and there's a hole burning into my stomach because it makes me sad :((((

ANYWAYYSYSYYYYYSSSSS

So yeah! That was my "brief" little dive into W.H. Auden and his mutuals :)))))) I was literally SO greatful that I was asigned W.H. Auden when I started researching him in a little bit more depth because the poets had been assigned at random, so yeah this was really perfect :)

and BRO I LITERALLY COULD NOT IT WAS SO HILARIOUS TO ME- THE MORE AND MORE RESEARCH I DID THE MORE PEOPLE ENDED UP BEING QUEER AND IT WAS JUST SO HILARIOUS IN THE BEST WAY 😭😭😭 i was reeling i was literally so happy

ANYWAYS hope yall enjoyed that <333 hopefully this wasnt all TOO commonly known stuff i hope i taught at least one person something but either way- if you got this far THANKS FOR LISTENING TO ME TALK ABOUT THIS I REALLY LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS ITS TOTALLY A HYPERFIXATION OF MINE

and agh~ can we talk about the amount of queerplatonic and mlm wlw solididarity? i love.

also disclaimer if anyone wants to call me out on my bullshit: yeah Kallman ended his sexual relationship with Auden in 1941 cause of like... a problem with mutual fidelity. they still lived together till death tho and Auden described their relationship as a marriage so shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i dont wanna go in depth rn 😡

also anyone please tell me if i got something horribly wrong dont be afraid to burst my bubble with the sweet smell of truth

Below the cut: photos of W.H. Auden Chester Kallman

W.H. Auden

W.H. Auden with Chester Kallman

@l0v3c0r3e you better read this or istg 👹

#the last photo is so pretty <3 #even if its not actually chester with auden its still pretty #im pretty sure its auden tho #looks like him #wh auden #chester kallman #erika mann #gay poets #gay history #queer history #gay literature #gay poems #goodness gracious

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angel-and-the-serpent · 2 months

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i miss you like the sun misses the moon when it goes to sleep

i miss you like the moths must, after the flame goes away

i miss you like the butterflies must when persephone retakes her throne.

i miss you like a writer's pen must miss the page

I miss you like a snowman must miss the winter time

I miss you like the stars in the sky miss the gaze of those below

I miss you like the halls of the schools must miss the kids during break

i miss you more everytime i see something that makes me think of you

the stars. the moon. the colour of forest green. the rainbow light reflecting from the water I spray in the air. the songs I have on my playlist.

I see you in everything

My world.

My person.

My 3 Hour calls, Before work texts, after work text sessions You are my best friend I love you.

#my poems #gay poems #poem writing #<3 Her <3

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d3adpoetsworld · 4 months

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untitled-4

i found my freedom in submission,

i lost myself in you.

darkness encased over us, the only hearts present are ours.

treated with discipline and tenderness, you stripped me of my power.

#original poem #poetsandwriters #short poem #short poetry #lgbtqia #poems and poetry #gay poems #poetry #poets on tumblr

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hansparth · 4 months

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#poetry #gay #prose poetry #prose poem #poem #gay poetry #gay poem #gay poems #poems #gay writing #poemefrancais #french poetry #poesie #poesie tumblr #poesie gay #poemegay #gaysexy #sexy gay

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c-show · 6 months

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C. Show

#poems on tumblr #poems and quotes #lgbt poems #poem #poems and poetry #gay poems #illustrated poem #poets corner #poets #poetry #trans poetry #nonbinary #queer #queer poetry #queer art #gay art #aesthetics

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man-reading · 1 year

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Lemonade: The Poetry (A Gay Man’s Perspective)

This is an ode to gay men who have been in abusive relationships. Originally from Beyoncé’s Lemonade visual album, here is a gay man’s perspective of the poetry.

PART 1: INTUITION

I tried to make a home out of you.

But doors lead to trapdoors. A stairway leads to nothing.

Unknown men wander the hallways at night.

Where do you go when you go quiet?

You remind me of my father, a magician. Able to exist in two places at once.

In the tradition of men in my blood, you call me at 3AM and lie to me.

What are you hiding?

The past and the future merge to meet us here.

What luck. What a fucking curse.

*

PART 2: DENIAL

I tried to change, closed my mouth more.

Tried to be soft, prettier.

Less…awake.

Fasting for 60 days.

Wore white.

Abstained from mirrors.

Abstained from sex.

Slowly did not speak another word.

In that time, my hair grew past my ankles.

I slept on a mat on the floor.

I swallowed a sword.

I levitated into the basement, I confessed my sins and was baptized in a river.

Got on my knees and said, “Amen.” And I said Amen.

I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet.

I threw myself into a volcano

I drank the blood and drank the wine.

I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God.

I crossed myself and thought I saw the devil.

I grew thickened skin on my feet.

I bathed…in bleach and plugged my semen with pages from the Holy Book.

But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know. Are you cheating?

Are you cheating on me?

*

PART 3: ANGER

If this is what you truly want, I can wear his skin…over mine.

His hair over mine

His hands as gloves

His teeth as confetti

His scalp, a cap. His sternum, my bedazzled cane.

We can pose for a photograph. All three of us, immortalized. You and your perfect boy.

I don’t know when love became elusive. What I know is no one I know has it.

My father’s arms around my mother’s neck. Fruit too ripe to eat.

I think of lovers as trees growing to and from one another.

Searching for the same light.

Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? (Why can’t you)

Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can.

*

PART 4: APATHY

So what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?

Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the man of my dreams, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted, most bomb pussy, who because of me, sleep evaded.

His shroud is loneliness.

His God is listening.

His heaven would be a love without betrayal.

Ashes to ashes…dust to side dicks.

*

PART 5: EMPTINESS

He sleeps all day…dreams of you in both worlds.

Tills the blood in and out of orifice. Wakes up smelling of silicone.

Grief, sedated by orgasm.

Orgasm heightened by grief.

God was in the room when the man said to the boy, “I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me and pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.”

Sometimes when he’d have his nipple in his mouth, he’d whisper, “Oh my God.”

That, too, is a form of worship.

His hips grind pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves, whenever he pulls out.

Loss.

Dear moon, we blame you for floods…for the flush of blood…for men who are also wolves.

We blame you for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts.

Every fear…Every nightmare…anyone has ever had.

*

PART 6: ACCOUNTABILITY

You find the black tube inside her beauty case.

Where she keeps your father’s old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her.

You look nothing like your mother.

You look everything like your mother.

Film, star, beauty.

How to wear your mother’s heels.

You go to the bathroom to try on the high heels.

Somewhere no one can find you.

You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face.

Your mother is a woman.

And women like her cannot be contained.

Mother dearest, let me inherit the Earth.

Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait.

Did he bend your reflection?

Did he make you forget your own name?

Did he convince you he was a god?

Did you get on your knees daily?

Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head?

Am I talking about your husband or my father?

*

PART 7: REFORMATION

He bathes me until I forget their names…and faces.

I ask him to look me in the eye when I come home.

Why do you deny yourself heaven?

Why do you consider yourself undeserving?

Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you.

But you are the love of my life…love of my life…the love of my life…the love of my life.

*

PART 8: FORGIVENESS

Baptize me now that reconciliation is possible.

If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious.

One thousand boys raise their arms.

Do you remember being born?

Are you thankful?

Are the hips that cracked, the deep velvet of your mother, and her mother and her mother?

There is a curse that will be broken.

*

PART 9: RESURRECTION

You are terrifying…and strange…and beautiful.

Magic.

*

PART 10: HOPE

The nail technician pushes my cuticles back, turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says:

“I see your sons, and their sons.”

That night in a dream, the first boy emerges from a slit in her stomach.

The scar heals into a smile. The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails.

We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath.

I wake as the second boy crawls headfirst up my throat.

A flower blossoming out of the hole in my face.

*

PART 11: REDEMPTION

Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons the zest of half lemon.

Pour the water from one jug, then into the other, several times.

Strain through a clean napkin.

Grandfather, the alchemist.

You spun gold out of this hard life.

Conjured beauty from the things left behind.

Found healing where it did not live.

Discovered the antidote in your own garage.

Broke the curse with your own two hands.

You passed these instructions down to your daughter.

Who then passed it down to her son.

My grandpa said, nothing real can be threatened.

True love brought salvation back into me.

With every tear came redemption.

And my torturer became my remedy.

So we’re going to heal, we’re going to start again. You’ve brought the orchestra.

Synchronized swimmers, you are the magician. Pull me back together again the way you cut me in half.

Make the man in doubt disappear.

Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk, knot after knot after knot.

The audience applauds…

But we can’t hear them.

Written by Jimmy

#poetry #gay poems

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helpmebelieveinanything · 2 years

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our love is wrong?

i didn’t know there

was a wrong way to

love someone

to hold someone

in your arms

breath in their

warmth

and hold on

to their eternity

#sad aesthetic #sad boy #art #artists on tumblr #my poem #poetry #beautiful photos #lgbt #pride month #gay pride #pride #gay poem #gay poems #lesbian #bisexual

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xavienshorizon · 19 days

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i want to talk to you, but theres too much to start with.

hello, how are you? me? youre caring 4 hours away?

my head hurts because the boy with chestnut hair and a sharp squint whom you'll never meet slammed a ball at my temple-

and you will never get to kiss the cut yourself.

hello, hows your step dad?

the stories i tell you with an ending are the ones you are not in. you and i will never be children together on a dusty playground playing hide and seek tag or teenagers on the top of the stairs cuddling between lessons or the duo in the hallways people laugh at and joke around with.

hello, do you miss me?

i fell in love with the boy who bears wisps of blonde, dirtied with his short temper. i love the boy who loves like how child loves the hand that feeds it, dog to man, angel to god. desperate, consuming; "I am yours and yours only, do not forget my name which has been called when you needed help the most."

i fell in love with the boy who both lies in the grave of who he once was and stands bloodied in the shadow of who he is expected to be and the boy who is scarred and standing tall like a martyr of who he really is.

hello- sorry for my misery. they havent invented a word for wishing for time already past and to meet a version of you long dead.

-Xavien, 5/4/24

#poems and poetry #this is poetry for everyone #poetrycommunity #original poem #gay poems #queer poems #long distance poems #long distance relationship #long distance love #mlm poetry #mlm love #mlm long distance #gay poetry #queer poets on tumblr #queer poem

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beauatnight · 4 months

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Good Boys

Between them both, I sigh Caught betwixt twin tornadoes Whirling dervishes through the night Heavy glances and cigarette lips He doesn't smoke unless he's anxious Fingers aching for the trigger

They minimise themself Even like this, against the headboard They're all noise, all bark and no bite He makes up for this With teeth against my neck he prays Up to a god that we have long forsaken A pleading ask of permission Mark me use me take me

They hold our throats with sharp hands Mouth poised to inflict Pleasure and pain on the end of a rope Or at least the feeling of one

Watching them both above me I see what it is to worship I understand losing oneself To willing submission

#Gay art #Gay poetry #Gay poems #Gay poet #Queer poetry

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stardust-stains · 5 months

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Dear heart, your hair shines nothing like the years,

And it's not so blonde as to be called gold.

Dear heart, your eyes, they look nothing like tears,

More like a spinster's hair when she grows old.

Dear heart, your soul shines always like the years,

Your happy smile shines bright as to be gold.

Dear heart, diamonds, they look nothing like tears,

But diamonds also look nothing like coal.

Dear heart, we don't look like we're made of years,

But all those pieces still are there inside.

Dear heart, we don't look like sun, gold, or tears,

But they're locked up where no-one ever pries.

We're all made up of years, sun, gold, and tears,

And yours, so bright, they wash away my fears.

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tommy2020 · 4 months

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I’m a boy and I kiss other boys.

I’m a boy and I was not born a boy.

I’m a boy and I use unconventional pronouns.

I’m a boy and I want to live as a boy.

I’m a boy and I want to be free to say that out loud.

I’m a boy and I want to live without fear of being hurt.

Just like the other boys.

My friend is a girl and she likes boys.

My friend is a girl and she was not born a girl.

My friend is a girl and uses she/her.

My friend is a girl and she wants to be called a girl, not a slur.

My friend is a girl and she should be allowed to live as a girl.

My friend is a girl and she shouldn’t be assaulted because she is a girl.

Just like the other girls.

My sibling is nonbinary and they like every gender.

My sibling is nonbinary and they were not born that way.

My sibling is nonbinary and uses whatever pronouns they feel like.

My sibling is nonbinary and wants to be perceived as a person too.

My sibling is nonbinary and should be allowed to choose what they call themselves.

My sibling is nonbinary and shouldn’t be shoved under the rug because their gender identity “doesn’t make sense”.

Just like other people.

WE ARE PEOPLE.

TRANS RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS.

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dj1981 · 10 months

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I didn't spend a lot of time of this poem, but the message speaks loud and clear. It is about being Bisexual and how I feel about it. Here it is, Enjoy!

Title: Embracing All of Me

For years I hid my truth from view, Afraid of judgment, I withdrew. But now I stand, with pride and grace, And show the world my truest face. I love the beauty of all kinds, Of every gender, heart, and mind. For me, attraction knows no bounds, And in this truth, my heart abounds. Some still don't know, and may never see, The fullness of who I can be. But that's okay, for I am free, To love and live authentically. I've dated both females and males and felt the same love, without fail. The passion burns just as bright, In every heart that I invite. My feelings now are just as true, As when I first discovered, anew. And they will stay, forever free, In this life, embracing all of me.

#bisexual #Love #Tolerance #Gay Poetry #Gay Poems #Bisexual Poetry #Gay #Heart Poems #Poems #Poetry #Love Poetry

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reallybadblackoutpoems · 11 months

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