Dear God ( a prayer for today)

Of all the things I can pray for
Besides peace and the end to war
Is that I may be a light in the dark
In that pure place where we go
To greet the day, a friend, or lover
With gentle voice and healing hands
To show mercy when there is hurt
And show love to my fellow man

I pray for those in peril
As they cross that refugee mile
For those who receive them and take them in
I pray that neither will tire.

I pray for those who raise their fist
Isis, isil, and I.S that you show them wisdom of all the ages
That life doesn’t need to be lived like this

I pray for France and for Lebanon
For Palestine and Israel
That brothers Muslim and Jew
Can know peace for themselves as well

I pray for my soul and my country
That there can be a healing here today
So that our family can come to the table together
To feast and laugh and pray

Of all the things I can pray for
From moonlight to rising sun
I must acknowledge my helpless soul
And say My Lord, Thy will be done.

Vive La France! (A Poem)

Paris
City of light, city of love
Fairest art thou in the spring
Shadows shuttled cowardice to your doorstep tonight
Yet through unknown terror Parisians started to sing

Your anthem so rousing and noble
Proudly heard throughout the shock, stilled world
Your character shone strong in your voices
Triumphant even as horror unfurled

You brought to a fledgling nation, salvation
Taught us what it meant to stay true to true things
Every night your children march proudly
Through the streets the revolutions still sings

Vive La France! we shout right beside you
Je suis Parisienne! Here we are!
Long live our mighty sister to our East
A democratic independent bright star!

Tonight we are all gallant Frenchmen
Marching onward ever upward to eternity
Singing songs about joyous revolution
Equality, Fraternity, and sweet Liberty!!!

Vive la France!

There is a comfort I take in France’s history. That is one nation that you don’t mess with. France, during good times and bad, has always been formidable. The French hold liberty, and fraternity, and equality very close to their hearts.
She came to us in our hour of need when we were emerging as a fledgling nation. She delivered to us a symbol of freedom in the Statue of Liberty – a gift that now resides in our New York Harbor.
She’s known good times and bad, but she is one hell of a nation and tonight I think I speak for most Americans when I say, God Bless you.

Husband (We are the body erotic)

Tangled sheets and tousled hair
At three a.m you murmur
Updates for me in your dreams about work and the life that you live when you go there
But what really gets me
Is when you’re awake you need
And that need gets me higher and higher

See, my husband I exist to feed you
All the things you desire and need to
Make our lives much sweeter on this bayou
This life’s deep river
With lips so tender
I plan to keep doing good by you

My lover, my friend, my beginning my end
I can’t quite find me anymore
Because when you are in me
You’re always in me
When our clothes lay strewn on the floor

Or when we’re out on the town
With the windows rolled down
And the sunlight streaming inside
You’re still in me, the very breath that I breath
And without it I would surely die

We are the body erotic, burnt
Eros and gentle platonic I can’t see with my eyes anymore
Our love is great love
Sent from above, have mercy
Lord, what would I do without it?

Autumn is her name. (Poem)

Autumn, the wisest of the sisters. With red unbraided hair.
Dances across cool night winds to casts spices in the air.
She’s the comforter of the four, you see
with eyes of palest green
She sings the earth to sleep each year, and bids the world to dream

Winter is coming before too long
The fourth sister draweth nigh
But for now the harvest fields are hers to play in
encouraged by the moon in the sky

See yonder woman there, as she steps through orchards full
Watch her dance between bales of hay stacked high
as the farmer’s wagon pull
Their bounties overflowing, for hungry bellies to feed
The toil of man’s hard work has paid in bushels
From tiny well placed seeds

From springs violent showers,
To summers clay warmed from the sun
To bear fruit for her when cool winds blow
When the growing seasons done

Soon, the fairest sister will come calling
Bringing white and icy snow
And farmers fields will lay fallow as northern winds begin to blow

Yet, For just a while longer fall is here
Setting tops of trees aflame
The wisest of the sisters shall dance through the night
And Autumn is here name.

Art Work by Kari Higa

Autumn is her name

Happy Halloween Podcast (Presented by WROTE Podcast)

WROTE

Welcome to the FIRST annual Halloween Radio Broadcast from the staff and crew of the WROTE Podcast!

We have 10 spine-chilling tales for you to enjoy in this special homage to classic radio storytelling with a decidedly queer slant on Halloween classic genres:

1) Lost Soul – FE Feeley Jr
2) New One – Albert Nothlit
3) Waiting for Morning – Angel Martinez
4) Excerpt from Paper Doll – Joe Cosentino
5) Destined to Repeat – Keelan Ellis
6) Gargoyle – J Scott Coatsworth
7) Extreme – Jayne Lockwood
8) Excerpt from forthcoming “Quarrel of Sparrows” – SA “Baz” Collins
9) Excerpt from A Demon Inside – Rick R. Reed
10) Excerpt from Werewolves of Brooklyn – Brad Vance

NEARLY TWO HOURS of spooky tales and malevolent glee to be had by these brilliant and engaging authors. Enjoy – IF YOU DARE!

Listen here! 

I want to go to England

I want to go to England and walk beside the river Thames
I want to go and see the ruins of ancient churches, and step the stride of kings
I want to ride onto the Moors on horseback where knights did make their wars
And travel cobblestone passages between ancient wooden doors.

At night I bet they’re battles rage still
When the moon is full and high
And I bet that valiantly their banners unfurl
To catch the eyes of the passerby

I want to go to Ireland, to Scotland and to Wales
Where spirits as old as memory itself
Cast coins into wishing wells
I want to step barefoot upon the places where red haired queens once proudly stood
In places that were new when Rome was old
As old as ancient ever could

Is it possible to love a place
A place you’ve never been
Or is it memory built deep within me
From another life, another when
I believe there is a part of me that remebers
A place where the sun never set
A script written in my bones, my very  being,  that wants to go home again.

Well Past Midnight

It’s well past midnight
Laying on my side
I listen to the exhale of my man
In his sleep
And the wind cascading from the heavens
They both whistle breaths
Exchanging harmonies
As he exhales the trees rustle
And as the world inhales
His chest bows out

It’s well passed midnight
Laying on my side
I hear the conversation between man and earth
A song, a private primeval song
Far beyond my understanding
Yet not beyond my sight

To the man who called me a faggot

Leviticus faggot

I am a faggot
I’m gonna own that name
I’ve been one all my life
It’s my claim to fame
My name is written down in your holy book
Side eyed by every single prophet
So bad ass am I
Hitler tried to stop it
Yeah bitch,
I’m a faggot

I am proud of that name
Been real about myself for fifteen years now
Can u say the same?
So scared of me you try to reach through the screen
So hated for what you don’t know son
so scared of what u might be

I come from a long line
Of people who changed the world
From Alan Turing and Katharine Hepburn
We’re the ones who made this bitch turn

This planet you’re sitting in
Was made by us
So flawless when we entered the scene
Your Prohibitions turned to dust

I’m rising like a star
This faggots not alone
I’m surrounded by the spirits of millions like me
That I’ve claimed as my own

So yeah, faggot is me
That’s the song I’ll sing
Master and commander of my truth
Now come on over. Kiss this faggots ring.

His blue eyes (A Poem)

His eyes were like the sea after a storm
When the waves sweep swells southward as they stumble
Bluer than the gems of merchants guild’s baubles
Were those orbs
That fairies that haunt forgotten forest become bereft

Enchanted, bewitched, and bejangled
Are those who gaze upon them
Their cool color calms calloused characters
Into sweet lullabies

Yet under that cool stare
Burns a fire ferociously fixating on finding truth

Seeking simple secrets of the sojourner
With pen and paper and points to ponder
These cool coloured eyes careful and considerate
eyes that contrast this ebb and flow of fire and water

So don’t be bewitched by beautiful beguiling stare, the color which promises patience and ease
For underneath burns a fire most deadly my dear
In the depths of those dueling deep seas