Ours Alone

Ours Alone

the tenderness here

must remain here

only for the two of us

to enjoy to cherish

 

the sight of it

in the open air

in a public space

would sully it

 

turn it into performance

it would cease to be sacred

it would be an assault

on common decency

 

for two men 

to hold hands in public

for them to kiss

in front of innocent children



Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee at Capturing Fire 2020- sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

Sydney Academy 3

When I was in Sydney recently my sister asked what did I do to ‘hang out’? At the Academy I was fairly active in some of the ‘clubs.’ One was the Junior Red Cross that devoted its energy to raising money – I guess the money went to the Red Cross. One year we sold ballpoint pens with, I think, Sydney Academy & the school logo printed on them. I remember this because I the group bought them from a company my father’s business used for similar office stuff.

If the order was large enough the company threw in an extra bonus: a coffee percolator one year, a wrist watch the next. We also sold raffle tickets for those bonus items. One year there was regional Jr. Red Cross conference held at Riverview (I think). There was a dinner& dance. 

I also joined the Chess Club, even though I wasn’t all that good at it. I barely remember anyone in it. The same for a short-lived ‘Record Club’ where we brought our favourite lps & played a couple of tracks & talked about why we liked them. My selection ‘The King & I’ wasn’t deemed serious enough. The teacher behind the group wanted to hear serious music not pop, show tunes or jazz. The club didn’t last.

My biggest involvement was badminton. We had the gym every Saturday & played round-robin. Singles, mens doubles, girls doubles & mixed doubles. I was a fairly accomplished player & did win a few trophies. There was also competition with other schools.

The best part of this became music! We were allowed to play records, usually 45s, while the play was going on. I quickly gravitated to this & became a sort of dj as mt pop music interest increased. Popular stuff was the Lovin’ Spoonful, The Beatles, Dave Clarke 5. I recall playing The Gates of Eden, which was the flip side of Like A Rolling Stone & being asked to play less serious stuff. When the Monkee’s I’m Not Your Stepping Stone was first played everyone went nuts for it & we had to play it over & over again.

I was pretty serious about badminton though. A bunch of us also played at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, (now home of HAT) which had a couple of courts in its semi-basement auditorium. The space was also used by the Rotary Club for rehearsals & set building. It was great as we got to practice without the rest of the school around us. I was quite taken by one of the other guys who played. He was hairy & sometimes sported a beard until someone at the school would tell him it was time to shave.

The one non-school organization I became involved with was DeMolay, but that’s another post 🙂

The Whitney Pier Museum

 

is dedicated to the industry of the area

steel workers miners

displays about the various ethic groups

that created the community

Jewish Black Ukrainian

old high-school year books

pictures of teams hockey basketballs

rows of mothers knitting for the war

soldiers returning 

those lost

churches that have come gone

business that survived then faded

as economies rose and dipped

the first black owned store in the city

 

families in fields picnics outings

Christmas parties in church auditoriums

faces turned to cameras

leaden in front of raging blast furnaces

or smeared with cold dust at a mine entrance

men in groups workers comrades

sometimes everyone named

who’s your father 

takes on a tree of discovery

 

I sift through these

wonder about the real lives of these men

wonder where is my queer history

I’m assume each of them

had a wife and kids somewhere

they sweated and worked for that classic dream

a house a garden 

 

no way to find out if any of them

sought out something in each other

no mention that 

this is Jack and John 

who lived happily together 

in this house on Lingan Road

everyone knew but no one cared

 

I’m happy to know the lives

of famed homos of the past

Radcliff Hall Alan Ginsburg

the list gets longer 

as we allow history to reveal

what some historians once thought 

too sordid to bring to light

the sex lives of heteros are fine fodder mind you

 

I look at these photos and wonder

what truths are hidden 

unrecognized

no display of the same-sex inclined

it is as if only the famed were queers in history

no ordinary folks

in these little local museums 

of the closeted

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

every Tuesday 2019

September

Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

October

Stratford Festival – The Crucible

December

The Secret Handshake Gallery – feature – date TBA

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C.  capfireslam.org 

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s capfireslam.org – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

#Dancing and #Necking

school

back to school writing sample

Dancing and Necking

Lorna and I

moved around each other

to the push-n-shove of rock-n-roll

she was 14 and I was 15

that we were awkward didn’t matter

we were happy

as long as there was distance between us

at the first waltz we sat in the bleachers

after it was over

she pulled me into the dance

where we made windmills to the music

the boys not dancing

feigned a disdain of everything

they claimed to want to get some chick

outside into their Dad’s cars

Lorna and I laughed at them

as we caught our breath between songs

when another waltz came up

she pulled me tight to her

she smelled of roses

put her head on my shoulder

just like a song

I could feel her heartbeat

as we turned in small circles

her breasts pressed into me

my hand moved along her warm back

felt her bra strap

the mystery of undergarments

her head moved into my damp neck

I was startled when she licked my ear

I turned my face to hers

before I knew it we were kissing

turning in small circles

her tongue in my mouth

mine dizzy in hers

and I sighed

finally doing something

to prove that I was as much a guy

as those boys

who would never take

me out to their Dad’s cars

brownbag brown bagging it

There’s lots of truth to this piece. High school sock hops & dances that I went to. This ritual of boys walking in circles around the dance floor and making comments happens in nearly every school even in movies.

The slipping away for smokes or drinks was typical. I did have a couple of girls I danced with at times. Girls I played mixed-doubles badminton with (yes! I played sports in high-school & won a few trophies). One of the dances was after a badminton tournament.

book

urban outlawned

I was a fairly limber dancer as well. Too limber I suspect, as the guys would hoot at me getting my groove on with some girl. The guys were always bragging about making some girl but even then I doubted what they were saying. I lived too close to the school to get a drive home in anyone’s car :-(.

shoes not my dancing shoes

The touching and feeling of undergarments happened. But the kissing wasn’t till some years later when I did lights for a local band. This was where I met the girl who did the windmill dance. My rock’n’roll days are for another blog post.

car big back seat for you know what