F.E. Feeley Jr.'s Blog, page 23

Til my lover comes back home (poem)

 

 

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(Photo by Taylor Durrer)

I can smell rain soaked earth

at five thirty in the mornin’

have my headphones in

two steppin’ to merry mystic music

as the night-wind is still

tangible  around me

Leash in hand, dog at my side

I mouth the lyrics as I walk

counting the footsteps as I step

in cadence with the Rhythm

its the replacement beat for the absence of my lover

who’s gone to work before the sun breaks over the horizon

I’m the king, however

Fred Astair nor Ginger Rogers

couldn’t hold a candle to the smile

slipping on my face this morning

I am the headliner, dog walker extraordinaire

present half of a heart half missing

catching cadence to Rock n Roll

til my lover comes back home

Autumn is her name (poem)

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Bunnies

Spot on.

'Nathan Burgoine

I’m going to take a little moment today to talk about the latest set of heated voices in the m/m world, and I hope, as with discussions in the past of Pseudonyms vs. Identities, and Gay for You plots, and Family Reconciliation plots, that everyone can play nice. I still get nasty comments on those posts, but comment screening is magic, and they’re far more outweighed by actual, thoughtful discussion, so it still feels worthwhile.

But I’m going to come at it from perhaps a different angle in hopes I can shift the narrative a bit from finger-pointing and self-defence and so I’m going to talk plot bunnies.

Most writers I know (and especially those in the romance or spec-fic business) talk about plot bunnies. In fact, it’s pretty much a short hand. Someone in the queer spec fic group online will post an article about, say, a newly…

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Time and Love (Poem)

April is national Poetry month and before I turn in, I was thinking about the relationship between love and time.

So I have this.

Love is an act of defiance


against the truth of life sweet and bitter realities


that says this person i will hold steady


here with me – with all that I am


and that will be enough


 


Exquisite in its mercilessness


this feeling invades our bodies down to


our finger tips


infusing us with strength and hope


and promises of a million tomorrows


 


But Love has a Rival


stoic and still and ever present and cool


to the touch as a washrag on the brow


of someone burning up with fever


rational and constant is this thing


called Time


 


Constant in it’s vigilance


Love rails often against its ever encroaching presence


sending sparks high up into the night sky


like a cowboy’s campfire that burns hot


at night but cools by mornings gray breaking dawn


 


when Time comes to touch


the inferno of our hearts with a steady careful hand


Love whimpers with each and every caress


but time also feels the deep cuts along


the molten heart now turned to stone


 


and respectfully acknowledges the fight


for each and every single beat as it


feels the remnant warmth echoing its truth


and for the briefest of moments Time loves


the way Love loves before settling back in its cool contemplative ways.



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(Photo: Jiyeon Park)

On being an ally, and why it’s never us v them

Additional thoughts

Jay Northcote

Sometimes in the queer romance community — and especially when there is something going on that’s caused offence and triggered a heated debate — it can feel uncomfortably like an us v them situation, with cis straight allies feeling unwelcome and unappreciated.

This makes me sad, because I know that the vast majority of the cis straight authors and readers are doing their best to support the LGBT+ community.

But also, I think it’s really important to remember that it’s not us v them. Those of us who identify as LGBT+ still need to be good allies to each other.

Just because you identify as LGBT+ yourself, that doesn’t automatically give you a free pass. We can still fuck up and make mistakes and hurt people. I’ve done that myself, more than once, and it’s hard to admit that and apologise (humble pie tastes like crap) but it’s necessary.

Saying…

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25 1/2 Hours and 18 years ago (Poem)

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(Photo by Bart Anestin)

 

Twenty five and a half hours from now *plus eighteen years ago* I stopped walking the Streets of Detroit looking for you.

Your two kids were upstairs waiting for you. I called Rick and told him.

And then went home to bed.

I got up for work the next day, worked a full shift, came home and my dad walked into my room to tell me you were dead.

Heroine and Booze is a deadly cocktail and according to the autopsy report – your heart stopped so suddenly you didn’t even have time to brace yourself before you fell.

It was a hard life lesson for me.

One that says love doesn’t always win.

It was the first time i’d lost someone that meant a great deal to me.

You were a friend when i needed one the most.

But you had your demons.

It’s okay.

Everyone does. I understand that, now.

Goodness isn’t a person, badness isn’t a person, these are states of being. Transition places like happy or sad or mad.

You were good – you just had a weakness about you – a handicap.

I miss you. I think you would have liked the way I grew up.

I thought about you in that fuzzy place between wakefulness and sleep.

Suddenly, you were there after all this time.

I’m glad you are. It was nice to see you again.

I love you but i’m sure you know that, now.

Goodnight

Thank you (Poem)

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((Photo by Alyssa Smith)

April is National Poetry Month and in my little corner of the literary world there’s some bad stuff that happened and then some good stuff and then some fantastic things. But tonight, my poem is about the LGBTQI community. Most notably, those who’ve died. So, to the spirits of those people who surround me right now at my desk – this one is for you.

 

I love you in ways I can’t explain

in tongues I don’t know

in lives long since passed and ones

that haven’t been lived yet

I owe to you my life

for the life you laid down for me

when death came by way of AIDs,

suicide, neglect, or brutality

your very being and bravery

thought me into existence

I am not blood of your blood

but I am bonded to your soul

my forefathers and foremothers

we share one thing, one strong thread

and that is the truth – this space – where

we chose to live

There is no way to trace me back

no DNA to tie me to you

but through your courage and love

I stand solid in my marriage and

am the realization of the dream you had

for yourself

So, i honor you today, my family

my brothers and sisters and uncles and Kin

be ye black or white or beige or red

be ye muslim or Jew or native American

simply by saying, ” Thank you.”

Thank you – for what you did.

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Gay people didn’t die for you to be quiet

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(Photo by Felix Russel-Saw)

The only way to stop ignorance is through education. But with all the education in the world, you can lead a fool to logic, but you can’t make them think.

There are those right now who are going to choose to remain ignorant because their ignorance supports their world view.

Case in point is the recent blow out in M/M romance.

For those of you who don’t know a female author pushed the idea that : I identify as a gay man. 

To which several of her followers responded in kind.

However, when gay men showed up to talk about this – their comments were deleted. They were called haters and one such supporter of the author even went so far as to say that the ‘haters’ should all be rounded up and exiled to die in the wilderness.

How Trumptastic of you. 

Anyway, following a fall out – some very angry and upset folk lighting the world on fire in justifiable outrage – an apology was given. And then a “Thank you” to her supporters for a boost in her sales something I predicted would happen because there’s one thing about M/M authors is that – if you’re popular enough, you get this cult like following or ‘street team’ that is prepared to defend ‘their author’ with everything they have. Sometimes they even go so far as to haunt goodreads author pages, one staring material, and on and on it goes.

And then comes the slapback, pushback, clapback, whatever you call it.

But here’s the thing.

Gay people are used to bullshit. Especially older ones. This idea of “Well I’m just gonna….”

You do so at your own peril.

Gay people have died because they were gay, either from disease such as the AIDS epidemic, brutality, being turned out by family, or by suicide.

Those that remain are not militant – they’re battle hardened. They’re tough. Inside and out and stepping to them is really not all that smart.

What’s happened recently and has happened in the past that stirs up this controversy was, is, and will remain bullshit until it stops.

Gay people are writing, now. They’re reading, now. They’re here now summoned like genies to this genre because of it’s subject matter.

And they have EVERY RIGHT under the SUN to check someone on their foolishness.

So, I hope this time this issue doesn’t fade away or get swept under the rug because of pressure or threats of loss of sales and backlash of followers destroying people’s review pages – I hope this time gay men and people in the LGBTQI world who are now involved in the creative process stand up and keep letting their voices be heard.

Those people who died of AIDS who fought at stonewall who were beaten to death – they’re sill here. And they demand that you stand up for yourself now more than ever.

We’re here, we’re queer, and we’re not going ANYWHERE.

Just Sayin…

 

I’ve yet to see a hearse with a hitch (Poem)

I learned a while ago

that know matter what I say

no matter where I go

I am both servant and master

inclined to help people do better

but should also feel comfortable enough to lean

on those who are around me

Because the truth is

despite people talking about the

importance of individuality, and self,

at the end of the day we exist in a community

where I belong to you and you to me

and those that talk up things like Personal responsibility

thinks everyone else should have it

but their issues – well, that’s a specialty

An outlier, something so exceptional

which allows them to have the grace they willfully rob

from others.

whether it be a homeless vet or a single mother

it’s that exceptional lie of ‘someone else can worry’

that makes it impossible for our culture to hurry

into its natural next phase of evolution

It’s that lie that makes ‘other’ really other

so’s they can be denied things given to their brother

on the basis of his faith, class, or skin color

what they want denied to someone else because of whom

they take as their lover

in the meantime saying things like, ‘Well, they’re queer.”

No, see, not really

what’s queer is to run counter to your own humanity

things that man Jesus, remember him, talked about

before they nailed him to a tree

things repeated my Ghandi and Dr. Martin Luther King

that said “Yo, treat others like you want to be treated’

this isn’t rocket science

but something that rests solidly in your own conscience

that you have to daily be willing to murder

so you can say, “That man, that man right there with the funny accent. He’s an intruder. ”

Kick him out

Who’s really queer here?

Cause I can guarantee you, it isn’t the Hispanic woman

the African son, the white snowflake you intimidate with your guns

it isn’t the lesbian politician nor the Muslim man who was beaten in his store

No, see queer means something entirely different it means something more

Queer means odd

and denying people their fundamental rights before you dispatch them to their respective God

says more about you than anything said about them

“Behold, this was this sin of your sister Sodom”

She was fat, she was lazy, and she didn’t give a damn

She could have, she should have, but she didn’t understand her own situation nor it’s gravity

of what happens when you willfully destroy your humanity

and embrace chance, embrace apathy,

that the stone cold nature of mankind’s cruelty becomes ten fold

when the bell you rang or allowed to be rung

tolls for thee.

And it does -without a doubt – toll for thee.

As it tolls for your neighbor, as it tolls for me

see no matter our lot in life, or wealth, or station

our burial plots are all the same size

death is mankind’s equalizer, the greatest of it’s kind

so whether you were born in palatial splendor or ended up dead in a ditch

I promise you in thirty six years of life – I’ve yet to see a hearse with a hitch.

You don’t identify as a gay man

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Unless you identify with this

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have dealt with this

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had to put up with this

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or this

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or dealt with this

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you don’t have a right to claim you’re this

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no matter how much of this you write

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or this you watch.

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We have a long history. It’s our history. Our sexuality belongs to us. We’re proud of it. And just because we’re queer men – don’t change that.

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Any questions?