Have I become sour
or has the world
itself curdled turned into
some gloppy chunky mess
having once been trustworthy
and now cautiously suspicious
do I listen to
others intently and curiously
or do I listen
like a weary prosecutor
waiting for the lie
do I talk myself
out of others anticipating
becoming collateral damage in
the folly of their
lives I do remember
being years ago defiant
but lately I crouch
down covering my ears
waiting for the explosion
which is surely coming
Category: Gay
Resurrection (for Raphael)
And so this morning
Raphael asked if I
believed in the resurrection
At first I thought
no but after studying
him I admitted yes
What changed your mind
he asked Well you
did I cautiously replied
Before you there were
others so many others
that left me in
a state of heartbroken despair
and I just figure
that if the possibility
of my love could
be resurrected then by
all means anything’s possible
MeMirror
I have enjoyed a
great life filled with
adventure and many opportunities
I have felt loved
and I have given
love and I have
laughed
not just at things
or at others or
at other’s things but
at myself as well
And now as I
sit in this my
last phase of life
I spend most time
in front of the
mirror and reflecting most
upon my wrinkles for
it is within them
where I can see
all of the others
who’ve walked with me
Hook
Why do we bait
why do we say
half of what we
mean when what we
mean is kept secret
Just what are we
afraid of hearing if
we say what we
do indeed truly mean
I feel like I’m
dancing with shadows and
ghosts having the appearance
of someone but when
I reach out to
touch they poof disappear
or they take on
the coldness of the
wall or the sidewalk
or anything else that
upon which they appear
they become Oh if
only we could be
what we mean and
not just the worm
hiding that steely hook
Christmas
Here I sit thinking
there you lay sleeping
in the other room
almost like Christmas I
know that soon I
can unwrap you but
first I need to
get thoughts and words
said here you’re used
to this by now
this cheating of sorts
just me and thoughts
and coffee and cigars
and words selfish pursuits
until at last I
go back to you
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 