Therapy

 

True story – Several years ago I started to see a guy & there was good chemistry between us. When he found out I had never been to therapy it ended because he couldn’t relate to someone who had never been to therapy. I thought – such is life. He made me think of people who say ‘I don’t trust someone who won’t drink (alcohol) with me.’

 

A recent Gayish podcast (119) was about the role of therapy in lgbtq+ lives. One of the hosts conclusions was that everyone needs therapy – by which they mean one-on-one work with a therapist. I have never engaged in one-on-one work with a therapist. (Please don’t revoke my gay card 🙂 ) The closest I’ve come to therapy, I guess, is decades of 12 Step meetings – group therapy of sorts – in fact the that modem of group self-help is the model for group therapy. But 12 Step doesn’t involve professionals to facilitate such groups. https://gayishpodcast.podbean.com

I’ve written extensively about growing up gay which has worked out much of the ptsd I experienced as a child & teen – the ptsd I’ve experienced from the gay ‘community’ is another story 🙂 What is worse – being bullied & belittled by the straight community for being queer or being bullied & belittled by the gay community for not being handsome, young, hung or buff enough to be acceptable? 

The Gayish episode is an excellent guide to types of therapy based on the hosts personal experience. The statistics on mental health & addiction issues in the lgbtq+ community are dismaying but not surprising. As we see greater visibility for queers in our culture I hope many of the emotional, mental issues that come from isolation, fear, internalized homophobia, will lessen. Gayish is one of the ways in which such changes continue.

Lucky

when I tell people 

I’m lucky to alive today

they act as if I’m overreacting

because in many ways

my life has been a breeze

I didn’t suffer any physical 

sexual abuse growing up

never went hungry

my parents never divorced

so what do I have to complain about

 

it’s not that I’m complaining 

just making a statement of fact

I’m lucky to alive

maybe they don’t know

that there as a time

when gay teens were put into 

mental institutions to be cured

given shock treatments

lobotomies

behaviour modification

chemical castration

so they would be obedient 

normal boys and girls

 

role models were nonexistent 

until Elton John came along 

(oh, why couldn’t it have been 

Bruce Springsteen)

 

what saved my life 

was music & writing

not writing how

‘fear was too great’ 

but writing about anything 

music never judged me

never waited outside school to beat me up

didn’t tell on you

didn’t turn away

when I searched album covers

for inspiration in words

in Jim Morrison’s tight pants 

mooning over sturdy arms 

of drummer Keith Moon

never knowing anything about their lives

 

maybe if I had known 

Jim Morrison 

was a real back door man

Moon was a bi guy

their fame allowed them freedom

but not freedom of the press

careers would have been ruined

 

yeah I’m lucky to be alive

because the help I could have used

then

would have killed me

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

every Tuesday 2019

July

Stratford Festival – Nathan The Wise

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

September

Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

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

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Please Don’t Shoot

Please Don’t Shoot

I let death happen

by proxy

if I didn’t eat meat

wear shoes

would animal treatment

become more humane

 

do it take a stand

no more meat

nothing with a face

search out alternatives

plants may have faces

that I don’t recognize

so that makes it fine

 

the air that I breathe

is teaming with life

the water I drink

is alive with microorganisms 

that may have faces

my vision isn’t that good

atomic microscopes

focus so finite 

I can’t recognize anything

 

is that jelly fish like shimmer

darting around other shimmers

afraid of being seen

shamed by our look

not ready for their close-up

they aren’t animals

are they

 

is my decision that they don’t count

relevant to anything

other than another brick

in a sense of superiority

the smug comfort

of valuing all life

only as it serves my appetites

 

people

like me who still eat meat

will always be ethically

self-indulgent creeps

who should be shamed

better yet shot

 

but please don’t shoot me

until after dinner


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Everyone Has One

Everyone Has An Opinion

his opinion was

irrelevant to me

not that he was

in fact I enjoyed

spending time with him

until he commented

on an item in the news

the item was not relevant

to why were naked together

 

as he went on & on

I was at first amused

then dismayed

offered a more moderate

point of view

which goaded him even further 

 

he was fun in bed

I choose to overlook his opinion

one I never asked for

& now that I knew it

there was no need to

know more about him

or his opinions

only when we might 

get together again

 

which we did eventually

and when we did

it was good

until he launched 

into an opinion

 

he spoke as one

who only listens

to those who agree with him

which I understand 

why spend time 

with people who argue with you

life is too short

 

I’m no one’s teacher

besides he knew what he knew

who was I to disagree

so

seeing him again

was no longer relevant

Sex & politics are often a bad mix. One of the traditions in 12 step recovery is that our opinions on outside issues are left outside of the room – the focus is on recovery not on who is running for x party. As in this piece, knowing too much about the other person can often change how we hear them. One things I’ve realized about myself is often I have no real opinions only smart-assed one-liners.

I don’t mind making chit-chat when I see a guy mind you but I stick to things like the weather, music, maybe TV shows we discover we both like – but I avoid politics, religion, etc. I can be judgemental when certain political, race, or even class options don’t coincide with mine. This guy, & this is a real experience, felt fine to spontaneously mouth off with his bigoted thoughts on both blacks & whites.

As I haven’t experienced the world as he has I didn’t argue but let him know I didn’t see some of these issues as he did. At least he wasn’t homophobic 🙂 The sex was great, but to be honest, that isn’t enough for me. Even in a FWB relationship I need some emotional &, I guess, philosophical connection.  He on the other had felt that because I wasn’t argumentative that we were compatible enough for his needs.

I stopped putting energy into future get togethers. Made excuses a few times, caved a few times (solely because the sex was good). I succeeded in directing conversations away from his hobby-horses. But it was more work than I was willing to put inot what was supposed to be play. That was the focus of our getting together, not me learning tolerance & patience. So I stopped responding. Such is life. 

The title is a reference to the phrase – “Opinions are like assholes. Everybody’s got one and everyone thinks everyone else’s stinks.”


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Hidden Heart

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Hidden Heart

all I am hiding

are my emotions

really

no I don’t have anything

in my hands

up my sleeve 

I didn’t put anything

where you couldn’t find it

everything is out in the open

what good would it do

to hide your shoes 

so you can’t leave

hide your underwear

so you can’t dressed

hide the towels so

you can only dry off between the sheets

with me

me

who has nothing to hide

 

except my feelings

or rather my lack of them

though you claim

my claim of lack of feelings

is actually hiding something

because my door is so open you

because I have made a place

for you my life

you even have your own tooth brush here

it is out in the open too

 

see nothing is hidden

really

except how I feel

which I can’t reveal

until you open up

to tell me what you have hidden

in your heart

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Not Insulted

I’m Not Your Girlfriend

no

I’m not insulted

but

after years of being called

faggot fairy

I’m not going to put up 

with other queers

using those words 

to tease

to cut me down to size

the same goes for 

girl or girlfriend

 

it’s not that 

I don’t have a sense of humour

the only lesson I get

when you say

‘get over it girlfriend’

is that you are still feeding into

the commodification

the compulsion

of making ‘gay’ me

into something less masculine

no masculine is the wrong word

but ‘girlfriend’

is meant to be derogatory

because of the view

that ‘girl’ is lesser

no one says

‘get over it boyfriend’

 

so no I’m not insulted

merely bored

tired of people using 

the dominant culture’s language

to maintain a status quo

I don’t take myself so seriously

you can call me faggot

but don’t expect respect

in return

The climate around appropriate language is become increasingly volatile & unpredictable. It seems that if one isn’t as upset by something that another person is upset by then the problem is your lack of support, of sensitivity to their issue. Is it even appropriate anymore to give gender specific names to children?

Within the Lgbt+ community there is shift to gender neutral appropriateness. At many events one is asked what pronouns they wish to be used. Hosting shows I’ve been careful to find out what to use for introductions, & when blogging about shows I try to use as few pronouns as possible so as not to mis-gender anyone. It is creating a more nuanced use of language. 

In my post My Ass Pussy I talked about the use of feminizing language for man-to-man sex to somehow make it less gay. On a recent Gayish Podcast they talk about the use of ‘gurl’ between gay men as a playful taunt. To not want to be be called ‘gurl’ is seen as being overly sensitive & hence not queer enough.

Trans people fight for the right to choose the language that is used to refer to them, for pronouns, for respect. Blacks do the same. Yet when I don’t want to be referred as ‘gurl’ I have been sneered at by the very people who want to be so inclusive. I’ve been dis-included in some circles because I’m not accepting enough to let them call me faggot because they feel it’s okay because we are all faggots anyway, so get over yourself. I am over myself, but this sort of amusingly derogatory use of language tests my tolerance more and more. I’m not insulted but we are not amused.


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I Put Out


I started listening to a new podcast in April – Gayish. There has been 118 podcasts so far & I’m both keeping up to date & listening to the archive starting with number 1. Two gay cismale friends talk about stuff while having a few glasses of wine. Recent podcasts covered circumcision and French tuck (not the same thing apparently 🙂 )

 

Earlier topics included coming out, interviews with one another’s family members. Their focus is dealing with stereotypes & calling themselves out on getting caught up in those stereotypes. They actually do research & cite studies & statistics to back up their facts. They are also quite funny.

 

I have joined their FB page, follow them of twitter, also joined the Patreon support https://patreon.com/gayishpodcast. The other Patreon I support is Disability After Dark https://www.patreon.com/disabilityafterdark/. Both of which explore sexuality in a direct, fun & supportive way. Not that I live in a bubble but listening to Gayish is like having the smart, gay guy pals that I’ve never had. 

The very first was about putting out on the first ‘date.’ The open talk about gay sex, top, bottom is good to hear, in a gay culture in which bottoming isn’t seen as positive as topping. i.e. bottoms are sluts, tops are studs. They even name check two books I have read. How To Top Like A Porn Star; How To Bottom Like A Porn Star. I found both books to be beneficial. When I came out there were no ‘how to’ books so it was decades before I really enjoyed bottoming – because the first tops I played with didn’t know what they were doing.

I do put out on a first date, but I don’t go the whole hog until the third 🙂


Wide Open

something happens 

when my skin is in the same room 

as his

I don’t even have to know he is there

I can feel something 

through my clothes 

through every layer 

coat sweater jeans undies

a emanation comes from him

his eyes   his smile

his indifference

that changes my chemical structure 

that grows glows down to my toes

in fact

he doesn’t even have to be there

 

I can start to talk about him

someone can mention his name

and I feel that subtle shift

like a leaf turning the sun

his picture 

his voice on the telephone

a text

doesn’t take much

for my hypersensitive flesh

to begin reacting to him

the closer he is

the less subtle the reaction

the more alone we are together

the less subtle the manifestation becomes

those radians through the air around us

as we approach the bed

step into a shower

snuggle to watch TV

those emanation knit

pull us closer and closer

enmeshed in each other

breathe the same air

walk in the same sunshine

wash with the same soap

complete without each other

but always eager for the knit

creating those opportunities 

to mention the name

laugh about something 

we could have done

but got caught up in the shower together

got lost between the between the bed and the TV

 

I can’t say that I don’t feel 

this radian from others

there are times when opportunity

allows that awareness

I feel it first in my skin

look around the room  the street 

to see who it’s coming from

can it be returned

eyes become heat seeking sensors

who looked for me that way

whose radiants flickered over mine

I’m turning like that leaf

looking for some sun

more light 

more opportunity to share that flow

with someone else

even if it is merely to nod and smile

acknowledge not act

don’t have to act every time  

anytime

the grace of light fills us each to overflowing

no need to fear there won’t be enough

 

all I have to do is breathe deep 

and open myself to the gift

of learning another name

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

every Tuesday 2019

May

Stratford Festival – Henry VIII

July

Stratford Festival – Nathan The Wise

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

September

Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

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

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/topoet

 

Nice Jeans

Nice Jeans

who said

you could wear my things

because I certainly didn’t

 

maybe

if you had asked me

I might have consented 

but to take it on yourself

to figure I wouldn’t mind

is going too far

if you get my drift

 

you don’t want my grubby hands

all over your things

you’ve told me that often enough 

well I don’t want my clothes 

all over your slutty body

you heard me right

you thieving slut

 

that it looks better on you

than it ever did on me

is not justification 

mine is mine

 

now take it off right now

give back to me

I don’t care who sees you here

the people in this mall

have seen uglier sights

than your skinny ass

so give back my clothes

 

give me back my dignity

my privacy

my right to have something 

of my own

what did I do

to deserve a parent like you


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Old Enough To Know Better

Old Enough To Know Better

some say that age

is just a number

you are as old as you feel

not as you act

but if you don’t act your age

you are trying to fool people

 

age may be just a number

but one that tells a story

one that defines you

generalizes 

labels your place in life

 

people don’t even need to meet you

but if they know your age

it has told them everything 

they need to know

like race gender

colour of your hair

each tells others

all about you

even if they never spoken to you

 

if you are that blond

well everyone

already know about blonds

even ones you’ve never met

we know all about that black guy gal

just by looking

everything is revealed by

her over-made eyes

his six-pack

 

six-pack is just a number 

right

a rib-cage

not a personality

an age is a cage

used to lock away

sight unseen

 

how old am I

why ask

it’s just a number

not a death sentence

 

There’s an episode of Designing Women in which a character who dates older men tells the one she’s currently dating to act his age – so he dies. The joke being that at his age most men were already dead. Now, I’m not at that age, or at least I don’t think I am. How old do you have to be to shot in a church? Not that I’d be caught dead in a church, but that’s another story.

 

This piece is as much about aging as it is about how easy it is to slot people into categories based on age, race, gender, job etc. One facet being enough to define them in such a way it becomes difficult to see them beyond that one facet. What team do you like in the play-offs? Saying one isn’t into sports isn’t the right answer. My reply is usually ‘the team that wears the least.’ Ambiguity apparently breeds distrust.

 

This is how ‘image’ sells. Photos of stars without make-up are often rendered unrecognizable. Privacy is obtained by disguising themselves as themselves not as the product sold on screen. But treat the dressed-down version as an ordinary person & beware, right?

In the shallow world of on online gay male dating age is nearly as crucial as dick size. In fact I’ve seen profiles say, to the effect that, ‘if you are over 50 your dick better be over 8 inches.’ One learns that many men aren’t the age this say they are, or that the photos of them are actually 10 years old.

 

 

I’m not keen of being confined by any definition. So when asked, how big is your dick, I’ll say ‘more the enough to satisfy;’ when asked my age I’ll usually say ‘old enough to know better.’ 


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Dune

Over the past few years I’ve been rereading science fiction novels that I read in my teens and twenties. Books by Vonnegut, Heinlein etc. They have been enjoyable but held little resonance for me. Stranger in a Strange Land was a favorite at one time but rereading it I realized it was the magic-thinking aspect that appealed, not the science.

Recently I reread Dune by Frank Herbert. Through the 60’s to early 80’s I belonged to the Science Fiction book club (which eventually added Horror to its title). Dune was one of the books that I got as part of my enrolment offer. It stunned me. I must have read it several times to re-experience the adventure. It was also one of my first fictional crushes – Paul Atreides was hot.

I recall my own world building attempts at the time: creating maps of places, making up language, inventing devices for the people/creatures in worlds – none of which ever progressed into plots or even short stories. The religious underpinning sos the book fascinated me with its witches, orange bibles, quotes from that imaginary scriptural text. The messianic nature of Paul’s mythology – was he the first ‘as the prediction promised’ hero?

Reading it now I am still awestruck by the intricate world building, the complex social & emotional lives the Herbert built. Female characters are as rounded & developed as the male characters. How I would love to have ‘the voice.’ The world building is astounding. New words are introduced in such a way one knows exactly what they are without explanation. I see how this series inspired Star Wars & a hundred of other films.

Unfortunately Dune itself has never been successful made into a film, or mini-series. Attempts have been made but, so far, they have merely captured events without convey the epic scale or emotional complexities of Dune.

Sadly what gay characters there are, are decadent, physically repulsive, and evil. Sigh.

Ingratitude

let me get that for you

I know you can do it yourself

but sometimes it’s nice to help

no no I insist

you deserve to it take it easy

I’ll do everything

like I always do

no insist

it makes me feel so much better 

when I do these little things for you

keep you comfortable

helpless

 

no you aren’t helpless

as long as you have me

to do everything

it’s is my pleasure to help you

you don’t have to worry about a thing

just ask and I’ll be happy to oblige

no no don’t get up

I’ll bring the paper to you

I’ll read it out loud if you want

 

don’t be silly

I trust you to do things for yourself

but you know 

I do them so much better than you

and I don’t mind at all

why fend for yourself

when there is someone 

who is so willing so eager

almost indispensable

don’t worry 

your pretty little head about anything

save your thinking for important matters

such as what to wear tomorrow

if you don’t like what I’ve picked out

 

I’ll make sure

you get up on time

you won’t ever be late for anything

as long as you have me 

to tend to your needs

I’ll even tend to needs

you didn’t know you had 

 

what’s in it for me

just the joy of being useful 

to someone as useless as as you

all you have to be is you

one of those who don’t have to do a thing 

 

let me pamper you

let me walk a mile in your shoes 

so you don’t have to 

if I could

I would take a dump for you

yes I would

 

now open up

I’ve cut your meat into little pieces

do want then pre-chewed

I‘ll do what it takes 

to keep you in this sweet state of surrender

no i don’t think I control you

you are in control

your ever wish is my desire

merely ask and I’ll do it

I’m that selfless 

 

don’t you know

people will envy you

that you have someone so attentive 

so eager to fulfill your commands

to spare you from 

having to experience life

in any of its many unpleasant facets

all you have to do is enjoy 

being helpless but in control

oh yes you are in control

my happiness depends on yours

I am more capable of making you happy

than you are yourself

 

admit it

you like not having to be responsible 

for your own life

I’ll take the blame

I’ll make all the excuses

it is my joy

my one goal in life

is to make sure 

you don’t have to live yours

except as I make it pleasant for you

 

who could ask for more

if you want more

ask me

really I don’t mind

even if you do mind

I’ll have to insist

ever so gently

relax

stop fighting

you don’t need an identity 

when you’ve got me

you don’t even need a purpose

when my own purpose 

it to keep you happy

to keep you safe from 

purpose of any kind

you don’t even have to be grateful

who could ask for more 

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

every Tuesday 2019

May

Stratford Festival – Henry VIII

July

Stratford Festival – Nathan The Wise

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

September

Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

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

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/topoet

 

Lonesome


Lonesome

marking my territory 

even temporarily 

happens without my awareness

an automatic act

will I share a table

with a stranger

in a crowded restaurant

a stranger who has already

marked it as their territory 

do I want an empty seat

on either side of me

when I fly

take public transit

sit in the audience

 

so I mark my territory

unless I get to pick

who invades my territory

 

I live in a city where

boundaries are marked by stares

knapsacks placed just so

earphones snug sound suppressants

handheld shields 

that deflect attention 

so that is all we see

so that all can see us

busy with important 

texts tweets games

personal space defined

protected

from the scramble of humans

looking for a little corner

to safely be alone

 

don’t talk to me

don’t look at me

I’m so lonesome I could text


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