Today, or well, the 5th, is Rick’s Birthday. For him, it started a while ago because he is in Germany winning medals in the Gay Games. I told him that I was writing a book for his birthday called “Forty-Five Love Poems and One About A Little Person.” I am not quite up to forty-five love poems yet, but I am still writing. Meanwhile, I will catch you up to speed. I have taken excerpts from my journal and mixed in the poems that are done. I hope you like it.
Path of Least Resistance
When the corners of your mouth turn up
Your head tips up and you smile
I can see heaven and earth.
The whole universe
Opened up just for me.
My own portal to everything
Beautiful and pure.
Years from now
When we are old and gray
You will think back
Back into your furthest memories
Burried deep in the corners of your mind
And still not remember
A time when I didn’t love you.
Everything will be a flash
Light, wind, heart-pounding excitement
It happened today, it happened the minute we met.
Everything, now, forever.
When did we become one of those sickening couples?
This lifetime? The one before? I can’t recall.
You tell the story, you tell it so much better.
I could fall over you so easily.
I could turn the charm on, up my game,
until you acquiesced your love for me in return.
If not for any other reason than it was the path of least resistance.
I’ll Be Your Marco Polo
I would keep you happy,
warm, safe, fed, and content
in the knowledge that a prince, your prince
would slay any dragon, fight any monster,
and travel the world in search of diamonds, rubies, and spices.
I will be your Marc Polo, your Marco Anthony, your Christopher Columbus.
I will be all of them rolled into one.
Just on the oft chance that when I returned from my conquests,
and lay the spoils of my travels at your feet,
you may cast a smile in my direction.
It Is Only Our Morning
The sun lights the sky and the glass on the tall buildings before it lights the air where we walk. We walked to under a canopy of warm refractory light in the darkness this morning.
We claim a bit more ownership of the city at this hour. Sharing it only with delivery trucks, school kids, and the barristas that make our coffee. The empty sidewalks and streets, the dark shop windows, the last of the summer blooms are all ours. We share them with each other and witness the city waking up together.
May. 10th, 2010: This weekend was a pile if fun. Worked in Saturday then met up with R to go see a drag show at Neighbours at 7:00pm. So early. They brought R out and he got interviewed and named me as his bf. Then they transformed me blindfolded into a drag queen. I mean the person applying the makeup was blindfolded. Yes. It was not good. It was some sort of crowning of something or other, I actually didn’t quite understand, but a coworker was there and wanted us to go, so we did. His friend was a 6’6″ man and almost 7′ as a drag queen. The next morning, R asked me if there was a giraffe at Neighbours the night beore.
We then went to R’s friends house. I was already pretty drunk and spilled a drink on their kitchen floor. Best First Impression Ever! We then went to The Cuff and danced for a bit.
We then went back to R’s house in Seward Park for the night. We were still really drunk and he mumbled “I love you” and then sort of figured out that he probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Who is this R?” you are probably asking yourselves, pondering, looking back to see if I had ever mentioned R before. R and I go way back, before the internet basically, well before it was popular. We dated in 1992. We were drunk a lot, which you are supposed to do in your 20’s. He was a buff hot little go go boy. We may have met for the first time when he was dancing on the bar at Tugs (yes, I said it). Lots of laughs and acting crazy. All the things that the 20’s are for, right? We then lost touch, but I always remembered him and often wondered how he was. A couple weeks ago, we ran into each other when we were both out, exchanged numbers, and have been talking/texting/hanging out ever since.
I like him. I like him a lot. He is fun and easy and sweet and it’s not work or wierd or anything. Ugh, he is such a sweet boy. I will admit to being heavily smitten and nothing more. Ask me again next week.
Scientists theorize that stars are formed in an instant.
An explosion of mass and energy that produce a beautiful and pure glowing orb.
Actually, it is the dense parts of molecular clouds collapsing into a ball of plasma, but poetic license lets me claim mass and energy.
I am not sure if you are the mass and I am the energy or vice versa, but there is no denying our collision created a star.
A shining celestial body that brings forth life and happiness, all the while warming our faces.
Some stars last for immeasurable lengths of time, some for only an instant.
I am not sure of our star’s longevity; but that does not detract from its power to shine, create happiness, and warm our faces.
I may never let you call me first.
I am way too impatient to play that game.
My mind races with things I want to share and I can’t wait.
I can’t wait to make sure.
To validate that you like me the same amount and way I like you.
Everything bursts forth at once; a waterfall of emotions and words.
I’m sorry if you got drenched and didn’t want to be.
I put a petal from the first rose you gave me in my pocket this morning.
For good luck.
Even if it does not bring luck to beings and things in it’s proximity,
it is lucky.
I am lucky to have you in my life. For you to see a rose and think of
me is enough. I won the jackpot.
If the rose possesses extra luck that is transferred to other parts of
my day or not, I carry it in my pocket to remind me I’m already lucky.
I have you.
May. 20th, 2010: I am still hanging out with rick. He came over last night and we just talked and kissed and such. It was great. He has my heart.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so they say
I prefer to grow my fonder heart in other ways.
Feeding it with your infectious smiles, nurturing it with your soft eyes.
Gravity is a phenomenon through which all objects attract each other.
Let go of your heart, let go of your head.
And feel it.
You should drift off to sleep
With the knowledge that the sun will rise the next day
That the Earth will continue to turn
And that I love you.
That my love is continuous and regular
You can set your watch, chart the tides.
Pay your taxes, and count on me.
I am your sunrise.
May. 30th, 2010: ReBar is still there. So is the photo booth. Normally, I am nit a fan of pictures of pictures, but somehow this one works for me.
It could be that it is of R and me, it could also be that the best lighting was in the toilet. A beer on the back of the toilet really ads a certain something.
So to recap, ReBar is still crackin’, the best lighting is in the toilet, and photo booths are where the magic happens.
Let’s Fall in Love
Let’s fall in love.
Let’s fall in love, just for the summer.
And share early sunrises and late sunsets.
Warm night air, in tshirts playing in the city.
Kissing under streetlights and searching for a breeze from the bay.
Let’s fall in love.
And not think about when we’re eighty.
Or if it will work out or last or be right.
Let’s just fall in love for now and not worry if all the pieces fit forever.
Then come Autumn, let’s fall in love again.
We can watch the leaves change and the air chill.
We can find the best hot cocoa and comfy sofas in the city.
The beach will be ours and ours alone
All the summer people going inside for shelter
The rain and the wind and the crashing waves will exist for only us.
It’s best to be in love in the Autumn
Winter is the best time to be in love.
Let’s fall in love for the winter.
I will pull you close to me under the covers
And share my heat with you.
Lets fall in love this winter.
Springtime is rebirth and awakening
Love naturally follows with a thawing of everything.
Let’s have a springtime love
And watch the flowers open up in front of us
The sun finally peaking out from under its gray winter blanket
To warm our faces
Let’s fall in love this spring.
Jun. 22nd, 2010: I am not even sure where to begin about Saturday Night. R and I went to ReBar’s 20th anniversary party and got shitfaced. SHITFACED! There was a Usnaps booth there. Maybe I should just let the photos do the talking? I will put them all behind the cut, since they are not work safe and really not life-safe. The only thing I can guess is that I somehow thought that the ReBar 20th Anniversary meant for us to act like we are in our 20’s? But seriously. You may lose all respect, if any, that you had, in me.
Black Out Make Out (A Haiku)
Can’t blame the vodka
She was standing on a chair
We’re all fabulous
Free Heart to Good Owner
Our youthful puppy love could be turned on and off like a fawcet
A light switch of love and hate, a flip from hot to cold, on to off.
We gave away our hearts before we knew what they were worth.
An act of chance, a leap of faith, we lick our wounds if we fall.
But we are right back at it, ready for another turn.
At some point, we forget we possess this ability, of healing and recovery.
We close ourselves off from risk and protect ourselves from harm.
A side effect is we close ourselves off from chance.
A chance at something, anything, is better than a chance at nothing.
I want a million heartbreaks with a chance of true love.
More than I would ever want no heartbreaks and no true love.
So I continue to give away my heart, now with the knowledge of its worth.
But give it as freely and as whole-heartedly as before.
Only to you.
Jun. 23rd, 2010: My Dearest Boy, I adore “Sonnet XVII” by Pablo Neruda so very much and think of it often when I think of you. I will try to explain it to you in what I believe it to mean or what it means to me. He is writing that he does not love the person is a boastful or loud manner, but he loves the person in a way that is private, deep, and personal. He loves the person so closely that he no longer recognizes where he stops and they start.
When we reconnected, love was reinvented for me in a way I had no idea existed. I mean, I thought it did and I knew I had read poems such as the above about that sort of love, but I just thought the writer was being over dramatic and irrational. I am irrational now and I do not wish to be any other way. I love you.
I now know I did not know love before you, I can say this without fear of hurting the others I claimed my love for because they will probably agree as well. They would have to if they witnessed me in this state. I love you.
Everything I do, I now put your wellbeing and happiness into the decision. Will it please you? Will it humor you? Will it make your life easier? I will do whatever it takes. I love you.
I tell you how lucky I feel often, that I believe that I have won the lottery, and that you are the best. Those are just words. Words cannot fully convey or explain what you mean to me. I love you.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
That is probably my favorite verse; I think it most closely describes how I feel: I love you because I do not know any other way of loving, without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you.
If it all ended tomorrow, I would still be the luckiest guy in the world for having experienced such pure crystalline emotion and had it returned. All we can really hope or with for in our lives is for someone to love and to maybe, if we are real lucky, to be loved back. Thank you so much for letting me love you and loving me back. I love you.
You are the best; just the best and I love you.
Let Me Prove It
What can I do to separate myself from all the others?
To show you that I am true and honest and sincere?
That I see you for you?
The Threads That Bind
I imagine our hearts being attached by long silken threads.
These threads form and multiply with every conversation, every thought.
They can stretch around the world, connecting our two hearts.
They are with us, no matter where we go and form our bond that will last a lifetime.
As they grow stronger and multiply, they pull our hearts closer.
Closer in love and closer in location.
Until one day, our hearts will physically touch.
Skin to skin.
And we can give these threads a vacation.
Now and then, I feel a tug.
And am reminded that my heart is connected to yours.
That we are drawing closer to each other.
And I smile.
Its part of me
I Love You
You are in the fiber of my muscles
The gums around my teeth
The soles of my feet.
I Love You
You are the source of my smile
The spring in my step
The twinkle in my eyes.
I Love You
You are the element in my chemical equation
The ingredients in my recipe
The reason I am me.
I Love You.
Jul. 29th, 2010: R us in Europe until the 12th. He left yesterday. I just sent him this email: I’m waiting in the tunnel. I keep thinking about the last time we saw each other and try to remember every second, sever sense. Your smell. Taste. The feel of your lips on my skin. The sound of your breath.
I miss you.
Additionally, look for clothes for yourself. We are dangerously close to dressing identically. That is only cute on 80 year olds.
My Summer Requirements
I want sunshine that squints my eyes and pinks my neck,
Rickety tilt-a-whirls and snow cones that turn my lips and tongue blue.
I want impromptu late-night bike rides,
Skinny dipping, bonfires, and outdoor movies.
I want new and creative ways to “beat the heat.”
Grocery stores, movie theaters, and park fountains.
I want pranks and laughter, love and kissing,
Hand holding, but mostly, I want you.
I Dream In Black And White
Last night I dreamt that you loved me,
and I loved you.
And there was no if’s, maybe’s, or I don’t know’s.
Just you, and me, and love, and kisses, and smiles.
I dreamt that we had always been in love,
even when asked when we fell in love, we had no answer.
This life? The life before? Always? Forever?