Tag Archives: poem

The Art of the Controlled Blaze (Poem)

11038106_1627878974120554_7208483037669016892_n

From Love Songs for Friends

My brother is my lifeline,
an electric current that tugs me to life.
Separated by an ocean nine time zones wide,
his voice still sounds like home.

We met the first place I’d ever felt safe:
a haven of kindness buried in the dark.
It was a forum that served as shelter
for rebels daring to seek themselves.

Even among them, he stood out.

I was a forest fire waiting to happen:
a destructive blaze of overwhelming passion.
I raced toward burn-out, fueled by emotion,
but his passion was a river that fed into an ocean.

He taught the art of the controlled blaze
and cut a clear path through brambles and haze.
When we spoke, I couldn’t believe:
wise as he was, he was only fourteen.

Now seven years later, we speak every week.
Oceans can’t stop us. He’s brother to me.
He’s changing the world one video game at a time
as I soothe souls through song and rhyme.

My brother is my lifeline,
an electric current that tugs me to life.
Separated by an ocean nine time zones wide,
his voice still sounds like home.

Fantastically Gay

image

I washed away the rainbows;
wiped glitter from my eyes.
Only so much gay you can hide away,
and yesterday was pride.

Today my closet exploded,
glitter covering my floor.
Vacuums can’t cut it.
I guess I’m gay to the core.

When I look at my footprints
water rainbows in,
moonlight glittering down
and glistening on my skin.

Closets can’t hold me.
Glitterbombs light my way.
Guess I’m stuck in San Francisco,
fantastically gay.

Poem Interlude: Stage Fright

final rainbow

Stage Fright

It was June 2013 when I first told the world
the doctors were wrong. I’m not a girl.
I said it from the stage, the educator’s way;
then I stepped down as my entire life changed.

When I think of fear I think of success,
of turning points where there’s no going back.
Of my first Open Mic when I forgot my own words,
yet people cheered and I still was heard.

The deepest fear I’ve ever felt on stage
was the end of a festival, the day I told my best mates,
“I am male. I want to go by James.
Respect it or not, it is still my name.”

See, none of the musicians I spoke to knew,
and when the camera turned off, my shaking grew.
I didn’t expect the hugs and encouragement.
They admired my strength, and I’m better for it.

I keep seeking the stage to fight my fear,
and two years later, I’m still here;
my own books in my hands, words on my tongue.
They’re how I fight back, written, spoken, or sung.

But I no longer fight alone.

Bisbee Pride, Pt 1

Bisbee Pride, Pt 2

Bisbee Pride, Pt 3

Bisbee Pride, Pt 4

Poem Interlude: Stage Fright

Central School Project: Interview with Pete Goldlust

Sidepony Express Music Festival: Interview with Anamieke Quinn

I Want a Daughter (Poem)

final rainbow

From Stardust

I want a daughter
with eyes like lightning and fire in her stride.
She will always be loved,
but I want her to love herself with the same fierceness.

I want her to know
that today’s impossibilities are just tomorrow’s difficulties;
that her passions are worthy of her time;
that failure is the first step to success,
and that she can make a difference
even when she thinks that she can’t.

I want her to realize
that her fists can be used to protect her;
that there are better people than ones who hurt her,
and that it’s okay to say goodbye.

I want her to smile only when she wants to;
to be angry when she feels it.
I want her to know strength isn’t violence
and love isn’t pain.

That adults aren’t always right,
and while we only have today,
she deserves the best tomorrow.

I want her to fall in love with stories,
and feel life fully. Though I’m not perfect,
I want her to know I’ve got her back.

I want a daughter
because the world needs more women like that.