Love Poems About Gender or Gender Love Poems

Gender love poems and/or love poems about Gender. Read, share, and enjoy these Gender love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Cynthia Ferguson |
Categories: betrayal, confusion, cry, depression, gender, identity, loss, love hurts,

Through the mirror

So now I know
Life has played its part
I never would believe
that I could die
from a broken heart

No you can’t mend me
it’s been far too long
everyone will go
everyone has gone
everyone will leave
that God did lend me

I could only watch
then step aside
as it all just went
no matter what I tried 
the only thing I can say
was how hard I cried

It was a shiver in the mirror
A reflection of pain
Where the shadows of doubts
were cast and bent
Any old soul
or any message sent
Were at the end of the road
and who is left out

So now I know
Life has played it’s part
now I do believe
that I will die
from a broken heart


Poem Details | by k8 pterous |
Categories: gender, girl, girlfriend, humorous, love, youth,

an untitled slam poem that addresses gender and also being a lesbian

"Oh," she whispers, "but she's here with a boy!" Her words, especially the painted blue one, stick to her palm covering her lips and mouth, I lace my fingers through yours and this happens simultaneously on opposite sides of the room, we look at each other and smile, the suppressed laughter in our mouths a balloon blown so full it's about to pop,

It pops.

You're not all boy.

We laugh because she saw you from far away, she saw you and your hair that basically spells out either, 'lesbian,' or, 'boy,' across your forehead.

I look at your eyesI tell you: Jesus, she thinks you're a boy and she thinks I'm straight we've neeever been in this situation before.
We laugh.

And, oh, that waitress that one time said, "thank you sir," when you handed her your credit card, her words overflowing with poisonous flirtation, spilling out of her mouth along with a biohazardous receipt, Her fingertips brushed yours as she handed it to you,
She didn't knowPainful ignorance.
After she left, you asked, "So is she a lesbian? Or..."

I didn't have the heart to tell you that she thought you were all boy.

I also didn't have the heart to believe the waitress didn't know she was feeding us poison.

you acted like it was nothing, but I, like, internally growled or something because the only two people who are this protective over someone else are moms and girlfriends.

She whispers, "Oh, but she's here with a boy!" and the blue word caresses our cheeks like your thumb and mine, currently participating in some sort of passive aggressive thumb makeout session because that's a nervous habit we have when we hold hands
And we have the words "boy" and "lesbian" written across our foreheads, so it's a good thing I focus on your eyes.


Poem Details | by Charley Davidson |
Categories: gender, girlfriend, identity, love, poetry, slam, integrity,

Love is Love

Tingles run from the tip of his nose to the tip of his toes  
His body starts to panic & secretes  
Pearls of salted water on every inch of his being  
That soon enough will show through his clothes  
 
He can feel his heart pounding in his chest  
The blood running through his veins  
The pounding in his brain  
 
He wants nothing more than for their fingers to intertwine 
And walk down the street hand in hand  
If his palms could just, in this moment, not sweat  
 
Showered, shit & shaved 
Dressed elegantly, yet not too fancy 
Dressed as a man should, protecting his integrity 
Showing his power & authority 
By being behaved and showing off his masculinity 
 
Sparks fly 
They both have twinkles in their eyes  
Time, when they're together seems to pass them by 
 
When comes the time for the first kiss, 
They both feel the anxiety  
Their arms wrap around each other, 
It comes naturally  
 
Their lips touch  
And lock 
 
Her lips are so soft  
They fit perfectly with his 
 
People pass them by and give them a glance 
Most feeling joy or even envy 
No one seems to be going berserk  
Over a public display of affection  
Between a woman & a man 
 
He gets to feel all those things & not be judged  
He gets to walk down the street with his girl holding hands 
He gets to kiss her in public and not be criticized 
 
Why can't I have that? 
 
Because..

When I get ready for her,  
I shit, shower & shave 
I dress elegantly, yet not to fancy 
I dress like a man, not like a woman should 
I am behaved and showing off my masculinity  
 
When I see her, 
I get tingles from the tip of my nose to the tips of my toes 
My body starts to panic & secretes 
Pearls of salted water on every inch of my being 
That soon enough will show through my clothes 
 
When I hear her voice, 
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest  
The blood running through my veins 
The pounding in my brain 
 
When I'm with her, 
I want nothing more than for our fingers to intertwine  
And walk down the street hand in hand  
If my palms, in that moment, could just not sweat 
 
When I spend time with her, 
Sparks fly 
We both have twinkles in our eyes 
Time when were together seems to pass us by 
 
When I kiss her for the first time, 
We both feel the anxiety, 
Our arms wrap around each other, 
It comes naturally 
 
Our lips touch 
They lock  
 
Every time I kiss her I think to myself, 
How her lips are so soft  
And how they fit perfectly with mine


Poem Details | by Cynthia Ferguson |
Categories: gender, identity, love, mother, truth,

My Mothers Eyes

It always seems it may not always have been to clear
Telling mother you’re not sure about who you are
What you thought she was always expecting to hear
Went right into her heart like a knife to reopen a scar

And to finally come to see, no one could erase all the lies
No matter how I try I feel like a star in the sky after it dies
Reminding me life is just a quick sparkle alone in the skies
One thing is true, and that I wish is, that I never knew
The truth will always remind me of, my Mothers eyes

But the truth is here and my heart cries as I look out to the skies
And just admitted the truth and dropped this phony disguise
Now I will always be alone in the cold lonely darkness of the skies
Lost in the black holes of the heavens, hidden behind my Mothers eyes

And I can’t get away from the things that I still feel and hear
The whisper of a sigh and a cry, and the drop of a tear
Don't know why I hadn't thought, or known, but now I realize
In the overtones of their cries , tears, and all of their sighs 
I will always remember, I saw it all, with my own Mothers eyes


Poem Details | by kaotik kandee |
Categories: abuse, age, anger, brother, bullying, emo, family, gender, stress,

sibling Love

don't let me see you on my street 
or creepin through my window 
I immensely want your head hanging 
on my living room wall 

I plan to hunt you down very  soon 
So don't go making my chase easy 
I wish you were not a sibling of mine
I wish you weren't in my mind 

But your spying and childish games 
are grounds for me to go insane 
You must learn the hard way 
I really wish you would escape.


Poem Details | by Cynthia Ferguson |
Categories: gender, growth, identity, longing, love,

goodbye time to fly

I know now
That I must fly
But I got to get thru 
A needle's eye
It’s going to be tight
But I must try
If I’m ever going to get to fly

Some say 
Just get by
Take it easy
So you won’t die
It’s very hard 
But if you must try
Squeezing thru a needle's eye

I don’t
Know just why
Can’t let it be
Or even try
To understand
When you can’t fly 
The pain of the other guy

And that
I must fly
And get thru 
A needle's eye
It’s going to be hard
But I think it’s time
To say goodbye and fly


Poem Details | by Verlena S. Walker |
Categories: cute love, funny love, gender, humor, humorous, nonsense, sweet,

A DRAG QUEEN

A distinguish old gent picked up tricks.
      On Halloween, he went for a treat.
Laughing outlandishly
      He staggered up the street.
Hips swaying g-stringed a drag queen!
__________________________________|
Penned on May 05, 2014.


Poem Details | by Cynthia Ferguson |
Categories: appreciation, gender, growing up, love,

becoming of me

Here I go
into a world
Of pastel flowers
Pretty little bows
Petals off a rose
Perfume lingers
Here for hours
bouquets all in pose
beautiful moments
Seem like ours

Every room
Has a little bit of pink
Little bit of flowers
Smell of fresh apples
Springs morning dew
All wrapped up
Into the aroma
Of all my memories
Growing into a woman
Loving you															


Poem Details | by Jerica Sanchez |
Categories: care, dedication, desire, dream, emotions, faith, feelings, first love, for her, for him, gender, girlfriend, happiness, happy, heart, how i feel, husband, i love you, inspiration, joy, love, marriage, men, miss you, passion, poems, poetry, prayer, relationship, romance, romantic, sweet, together, wedding, words, writing,

Together,Forever

I call it a blessing from above
And I know everyone wants this to have
Everyone is looking for it
But only few can found it

I'm lucky I'm one of that few
And I've been blessed to found true love in you
It's like a dream came true
To be loved by the guy I loved too

To you,I felt the undefined happiness
For me,for all the guys you are the best!
And I want you to stay for the rest of my life
Coz' I really need someone like you in my life

I consider you as a blessing sweetheart
So I give to you my sincere HEART
I love you forever
And I hope that God will guide us to be together..forever


Poem Details | by Shadow Hamilton |
Categories: funny love, gender,

Mistaken Identity

Down around ankles were his trousers
as he caressed her he said wowzers
finding there no lady
it was all so shady
as he always seemed to pick posers

written 05/22/2014

contest Bawdy, Bawdy Bawdy Miss Clawdy


Poem Details | by Holly Wood |
Categories: change, first love, friendship, gender, love, love hurts, work,

Corrosive Love

As I gaze upon your ghost-like skin and silken hair
I am reminded of those halcyon days we spent
Working in the fieldsFrom row to row we rent 
Weeds from the earth, nurtured the trees with care;
But something else bloomed then tooI came to bear
A most tender affection for youThe nights spent
Laughing, sweating and drinking together bent
My nature, my cold pride thawed in the June-night air.

But it is an affection I know you cannot return.
Your azure eyes may light up for me, but I ken
Whom they burn brightest forAmong all the men
Of the world, your heart does not yearn for a one.
So, to preserve the smile on your face, I must relearn
My cold pride and reign in my heart till its hunger is done.


Poem Details | by Jasmine Ledesma |
Categories: absence, abuse, angst, break up, dad, daughter, discrimination, family, first love, gender, girl, girlfriend, hate,

Being a gay daughter

Father, I know I bring you shame,
But I just can’t stop myself from speaking her name.
I can’t stop myself from calling her at night,
Checking in, making sure she’s all right.
I know you hate when we hold hands,
How do you expect me to conform to your demands?
Would it be different if it was a boy?
Would you smile and act coy?
Invite him inside,
Instead of making us hide?
I know you don’t like her because she’s a girl,
I know the thought of us together makes you hurl,
But if you would take a moment,
If you let her step into the light,
She might come off as urgent,
But I assure you, when I’m with her, everything feels right
Please, father, give her a chance
Just a bit of your time, 
She will save you the last dance, 
She could show you how a diamond shines


Poem Details | by Cynthia Ferguson |
Categories: change, gender, identity, love hurts,

Reality of a journey

It was to be so easy to start, seemed it was all downhill 
The top of the mountain is open to the desert and the dirt
Where large sun bronzed boulders, are frozen in eternal rest 
Since the beginning of time, from the ache and the hurt
Finding my way to the bottom went by so very slow and still
And silent is the night when you stand alone on a hill 
All thru the cracks, lost trails that all end, but not the test 
Leaving my soul with a hole, inside so large, it will never rest
I walked alone and always will be,  down onto the world
The ending to the reality of a journey can be a hard one to sell
Out looking for a lost love or the child inside of you still
You can change a lot caught in between heaven and hell
Into the deep valleys even hardened rocks have been scarred
What Mother Nature can throw at you, can be very hard
And not a soft gentle kiss to get you to grow and be strong
But a hard push into the ground to know where you belong
I wish I could just go back to the beginning and go back uphill 
But when I try, I find it is a hard as they say, and I know one thing
As I Come to the cracks, lost trails that all end, to find I never will 
Be where I shone in the sun like bronze and I was the king 


Poem Details | by Cynthia Ferguson |
Categories: gender, hope, identity, love,

long lonely walk

Sometimes when I read about love
And I am into the page
And I remember myself when I was
Coming of age
I don’t see any reason to not ever
Give this away
I see no musical instrument
For me to play
But I will sing alone as I wait out
Everyday

Seems to me I have always just
Felt this way
Seems like everyone I want to love
Never will stay
No matter how I hold on tight it keeps
Getting away 
So I shiver inside my own cold soul
Everyday
As I wait the time when you come to
Finally stay

And it’s ok to fall in love and
Drift away
But it’s only a dream and I dream 
I drifted away
And I feel inside of this dream
I may stay
When I think of all the times I cry
and that’s every day
I just sleep and dream of music someday
I will play
It’s such a cold and long  				                                          
Lonely wait
But I cannot break one in two 
It is my fate

Seems now I am always afraid 
If I ever think of what I owe 
I have already paid
I only hope someone finds a way in
It’s getting late
Still I wait so patiently and I
Opened the gate
All my dreams may have to drop inside 
and permanently wait
And walk forever on a crooked road
I will never get straight	 


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: earth, gender, god, health, humor, love, nature,

Gaia Out Speaks

Queen Gaia
of Earth's Shabbat
is here to speak today.

Unfortunately,
she can only sign,
and the only way she can see
is through our DNA/RNA fractally-balancing syntax,
so she has asked if she could respond to your questions,
as she understands them
within Time,
who are her TransParent Gender Memories,

YangGod, of Physical Convex Special Case Universe,
and Goddess YinYin,
of metaphysical RNA-temporal syntax,
both bilaterally and bicamerally-reiteratively balancing
Earth Tribes of organic ecosystemic processors,
and planters and dialectical planners,
with interdependently balancing consumer and production functions,
exegeting iconic communication
about natural-empirical facts of Earth's nutritional life,
with Zero-centric dialectical neutral tone and energy
and spacetime,
+/(-,-) neural-synaptic/aptic
ecotemporal balance of Time's transparent memory.

Wow, go Gloria,
you optimize my Mother's BiCameral Pretensions
with such dense summary
of WinWin's PolyCultural HealthCare and Safety CQI 
CoOperative Agenda!

About which we are facing some increasingly climatic issues
of ecosystemically pathological trends
throughout our full RNAcentric EcoLens,
and through our DNAcentric AnthroLens,
where correlational trends
of human political and economic and nutritional systemic ends
of all paradigmatic cultural dialects
are now at both high and deep levels of pathological risk,
as well as polycultural and cooperative health opportunity
to mutually embrace this Transitional Time,
remembering our Golden Rule applies
through both our AnthroLens
and our EcoLens.

Thank you for that background summary
of your unfortunately limited synergetic flow power
during this Yin-recessive moment
within YanGod's precessive, evolutionary transition
toward full-balancing Interior with Exterior,
Ego with Eco, DiPolar Identities
of Time's polycultural diversity.

I don't know how many questions you will invest
with all your climatic signing
necessary to be heard and seen right now,
trying to gently calm all the "Loser!" angers and fears
within critical-transitional, revolutionary change,
so I will ask my personal favorite
because I find it so curious:

"Queen Gaia, don't you think it would be Bodhisattva Warrior timely
to come out of your bisexual agenda closet?"

You know, that is one of my favorite questions too,
in part because it took me so long to hear it.

It is difficult to hear and comprehend climatic questions
that you are confident you have already responded toward,
signed with sufficient redundancy
as to be ridiculously ubiquitously flying in obviousness.
Of course our RNA and DNA memory embryonic strings
are full dipolar-engendered,
so how could Queen Gaia of Shabbat's historical-cultural Creation Story
be anything other than TransParent Yang/YinYin as WinWin
evolutionary co-gravitational thermodynamic revolutioning balance
of BiLateral-Reiterative Genetic Time?

Species of systems,
like any possible imaginable metaphysical use of the word "system,"
must have Yang/Yin balanced-governance economics
to interdependently sustain synergetic dynamics,
positively healthy regeneration trends
capable of consumer and/or producer systemic function.
Neutrally (0)-balanced ecosystems,
sustained in RealTime cooperative interdependence,
are Positive-PolyCultural trending
and Negative-MonoCultural trending
dipolar BiNomial Balance of at least outsideness
as appositionally equivalent double-binding insideness,
cogravitational boundary of surfing BiGenderative Time.

So, yes,
Queen Gaia is BiGenderal
and therefore Shabbat signs
with DiPolar Syntax language,
with normative-neutral
ecosystemically BiGendering 
positive/light OVER negative/dual-bound transparent
equi-valent 4-seasons
of dialectical reason and co-intelligent in-formation
eco-flowing optimized,
nutritional flow of healthy resonant resolutional wealth,
celebrating Yang/Yin Golden EcoBalancing Rule
of Love/Synergy 
as co-arising Presence of mutual gratitude
for my Gift-It-Forward
ecologically evolutionary politically inclusive economy.

See, I knew we were sisters!
I mean,
how could the root nature of Time's Positive
equals Negative
climatic energy Shabbat
not continuously and confluently declare your BiGenderal
BiCameral
EcoConscientific Beauty!

ThanksThat means a lot,
especially right now
as we have arrived together
at such a critical moment.

OK, next question?

Well, perhaps I would add,
in defense of our timing
on this transgender balance of nature issue,
you do realize, I hope,
that millions of people
throughout Earth's ages
living within some level of transgender identity,
other than BusinessAsUsual missionary crusading hetero-anthro,
have understood "Queen Gaia of Shabbat"
quite deviantly from a Jewish concept
of a Queen Bee?
There are diverse nuances for "Queen"
which do not easily translate across dialects.

I can't tell you the number of times
we have looked in a lake or a river or a mirror
and imaged Queen Gaia in drag.
Imaging possibilities is how we recreate together,
usually within our own subcultural dialects.

Just as mutually therapeutic responsibility
is how we regenerate
as cooperative individuals
and as a species
and as this entire Shabbat Paradise-Potentiating Planet
of Earth's RNA/DNA ReGenerative Trees,
InFormating EcoMemory Rivers
dipolar rooting FireGod's transparent compost
of LoveLight to WinWin,
articulating (0)-centric 4D
photosynthetically 
endosymbiotically cellular
transformationally
diastatically optimizing natural growth trends
toward just-right Yang/Yin balanced exchange atmosphere
for Queen Gaia of Shabbat
to rise and shine sustained.

You do realize that you can sign what you just said
a lot faster than all the redundant nuances of my language
can capture,
trying to mono-transculturate polycultural regeneration?
I'm having trouble keeping up with you.

Well, try slowing down
looking at trees,
contemplating their root systems,
noticing how under-standing revolves 
eco-normics of a political integritree.









Poem Details | by Nicolette Holness |
Categories: beauty, body, first love, gender, identity, love, men, mirror, poets, relationship, sensual, smile, symbolism, together, truth, vanity, woman, women, writing, youth,

Superficial Love

My physical lusts each and every cut, rip, and peck on his body my intellectual craves his thoughts, opinions, and charisma, my emotional wants to laugh, cry, and embrace his deepest feelingsYet my emotional abundance does not captivate him, my intellectual determination does not appeal to him it is my physique alone that attracts his mind, body, and soulIt is the complexion of my skin that caught his attention, it is the reflection of my smile that made him acknowledge my presence, it is the kink in my hair that preserved his interest, the seduction in my eyes that tempted his spirit, the curves on my body that infatuated his sexual desires, and my forbidden fruit that took his whole being into euphoria yet my mind and soul is yet to be explored! My physical body has been pleasured time and time again but my emotional and intellectual elements remain untouched like the footprints on the moon!


Poem Details | by James Inman |
Categories: friend, gender, heartbreak, love,

I Remember

(My Best Friend) I remember..you and I, playing in the sun, our toes in the sand. You were eight and I was seven, holding hands on the beach, two boys wrestling in the surf. I remember..things came easy for you in school you excelled, good grades and, oh, so popular Everyone wanted to sit by you, but you chose to sit by me. I remember..my best friend, growing up with me, forever beside me when I needed you. Laughing together as we grew, always there for one another. I remember..in our teens, looking for girls, we found a few, thrills for you, awkward times for me. Then looking for love, you found yours, but then things changed. I remember..when you married, she wasn't your first but I liked her too, another friend, and I was glad that she loved you, because I understood. I remember..your second child, both so beautiful, something I couldn't give you Smiling, you said you loved her and I turned away then looking at me with serious face you said, we'll find someone for you, if only you knew. I remember..so much envy, but not of you, of her she owned my world, love, happiness and you. It wasn't my choice to feel this way but it's who I am. I remember..when I changed, or did I? Who can say, perhaps I've always been this way. Things so simple, then, are re-arranged. My feelings for you were never the same. ..and so my best friend I will remember this day my tears are for you and the love we can never share for I could never explain and you could never understand, so I think it best, if only for you, from your life, I slowly fade away.
11/21/15


Poem Details | by Jim Pemberton |
Categories: bible, character, christian, community, conflict, confusion, culture, dedication, devotion, faith, family, feelings, forgiveness, freedom, gender, god, growing up, hope, how i feel, innocence, introspection, jesus, joy, life, loneliness, lonely, loss, lost, lost love, lust, parents, passion, people, pride, relationship, religion, religious, rights, sad, self, sensual, sexy, sin, society, sorrow, spiritual,

Living A Lifestyle That the Bible Forbids

Living A Lifestyle That the Bible Forbids…

I know of someone living a lifestyle that the Bible forbids.
He told me; “how dare anyone tell me how I should live!”

He added; “what I do is no one else’s business but my own.”
“No one can ever tell me what I do in my home!”

When given scripture that clearly forbids what he’s doing…
It’s the backward kind of life… That he’s choosing!

He claims Jesus is his lord, in spite of his moral depravity.
It’s like he has, in his body, an “infected cavity.”

God gave to us his word, with his holy instructions!
If we don’t obey, it’ll lead to our spiritual destruction!

It doesn’t matter if 10,000 churches say that it’s o.kto do!
God requires a righteous and holy way of living, for me and YOU!

There are choices we all have, that are to be made!
Are you going to be victorious in Christ?  Or sin’s slave???

Have you thought about living for Jesus?  And what it cost?
If we’re not sacrificing our lives for him, we’re forever lost!

If you’re one who’s caught up into a life filled with perversion…
May I introduce you to the blood of Jesus?  And a righteous conversion?

God gave to each of us, HIS rules and commandments to live by!
It’s either God’s rules, or man’s, that you’ll either live or die by!

Won’t you choose a life that God has chosen to give you?
He created mankind!  It’s no secret how much he loves you!

The opportunity is here!  It may never come again!
Won’t you let the power of Jesus break the bondage of sin?

Jesus can set you free!   Won’t you let him help you?
He’s patiently waiting…   Just because he wants to!

By Jim Pemberton   10/07/13


Poem Details | by Jerica Sanchez |
Categories: boyfriend, care, dedication, devotion, faith, first love, for her, for him, gender, girlfriend, happiness, happy, heart, heaven, home, house, how i feel, humor, husband, i love you, imagination, inspiration, inspirational, kiss, longing, love, marriage, miss you, missing, poems, poetry, romance, romantic, together, words,

FOREVERMORE

When I hear your name
My heart beats faster than usual
It's not that I am ashame
But It's just your name is too special..

Can't control the feelings
When I am with you
Can't stop smiling
When you hold me like you do

When you hug me then
I feel like I'm in heaven
You are a blessing from above
And you are the reason why I loved

I'll promise to love you FOREVERMORE..
And I will cherish you until the end of my borrowed life
And I will keep our precious memories as long as
we see each other in our next life..


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: gender, health, humor, love, political, poverty, power,

Franciscan Swissophiles

Switzerland,
part of my own historic root system,
has a Bill of Rights for vegetation,
protecting rights of intrinsic dignity
with concomitant human respect for their healthy and aesthetic purposes.
It is not OK to merely throw away 
without regard for future seedling’s rights of vital procreation
within holistic ecologically-systemic balance of cooperative species.

More recently,
Pope Francis has been protecting rights of sacred dignity,
with concomitant human respect for healthy polycultural purpose,
rather than throwing away our wildflower vegetation,
our GLBTQ AlphaMeta Networking Soup,
our women and Earth’s poor and marginalized,
whether incarnating as humane-potentiating nature,
or other forms of networking nature.

It’s sad to discover your ego’s reflecting label 
as a needy one
a greedy one for two or even more,
to need active love more global than anyone
you could ever dare to know.

Pope Francis,
permaculturally principled developers everywhere,
Swiss vegetation,
what is and is not naturally embryonic
about regenerating within as without Landscapes,
before and after health,
above and below (0)-zone economies,
this divine race through bilateral time’s vulnerably edgy emergence,
zeroistic revolution simplifying ecological poli-economics.

Mutual respect for all life systems
to co-mentor with RNA’s extended family Elders,
sustainable regenerating healthy love
for all Earth’s Tribes of synergetic life,
interior as exterior climate-balancing,
Sacred Tao,
ReGenerating BiCameral EcoSystems,
speaking EcoLogic’s RNA/DNA Syntax
as Universal Polynomially Balanced Language,
EcoNorms,
permacultural principles networking polycultural multi-vegetative love 
as beautiful health outcomes.

Yet it remains hard to play life’s prodigy
without prodigal influx of divine trust
in regenerative lust for deep time
through mutual health-caring love,
when taking care of beloved vegetation
evokes,
invites co-therapeutic love returns of love economics
as loving love’s Other (0)-Soul Balancing EgoSelves.

Active Love in RealTime vegetative networks
is not spiritualized absence of thinking.
Active love is anticipating our becoming co-redeemers
co-arising Bodhisattva ProGenitors
stretching toward enlightenment
to continue diurnal worship of SunGod HealthyLove.

Active love awakens incarnate lifetimes
to bilateral empathy as poli-economic beauty,
on whose Attendance we can evolve,
nature nurturing permacultural investments
of Ego’s mindbody.

We love
with Earth
to remember our DNA/RNA eco-belonging principles 
of Active NetWorking Love;
this web languaging time’s regenerative intent
and degenerative climatic great transitional discontented
vegetation,
root systemic,
bipedal
fractal-pedal,
octo-pedal,
and otherwise dysfunctionally noisy lack of Love Management.

It feels important to see oneself
as greedy for beloved prodigy of self-esteem,
to intentionally know love for more than any one Ego-species system
you would ever care to polyculturally grow.

NetWorking Bills of TransParent Rights
regeneratively rooted in human nature
now disencultured
disengaged from RNA’s nutritional memories of health vpathology
as economic wealth 
as equitable fertile inclusive outcomes
for all life's co-vegetating networked species.


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: destiny, family, fear, gender, home, humor, love,

Wild Domicile

I prefer my home and family buttoned down
rather than too wild and disorderly,
disheveled and irrational.

I prefer natural order
and shades of color
and dialects
and economic/political vocations
and sequential rules of nutrition-producing order,
and yet wonder, too.

I have been hurt by too much wild
struggling against my too much gay
with fear that loss of homophobia,
struggling with fear and anger
about my too-wild sexuality,
might self-recruit toward loving bisexuality,
poly and/or meta-sexuality,
a co-arising ecopolitical co-gravitation
without fear and anger boundaries
might open your close-pen toward boundless love.

Too wild
these fears and angers scare me,
preferring my home and family
more multiculturally transformed
to optimally button down
our polypathic wild.




Poem Details | by Brittany Larson |
Categories: anti bullying, boyfriend, feelings, freedom, gender, girlfriend, love,

Celebration and Pride

See my hands bound
so tight
Securely hidden
Behind my back
So I just sit here
and fight

You don't know how
it is to be gay
In an society
Where you have to
hide
Your love everyday

You don't know how
hard I try
To show you that
I am no different
That if you cut me I
still will cry

You see how I fight
I do this
Every day
And every night

I will not back down
No matter how hard
you push
I will 
Stand my ground

I will not sit back
and wait
For a group of
business men
And religious
radicals 
To seal my fate

This is the 21st
century
But still you fear 
What we don't know
Not understanding we
want to be free

We want to dance in
the street
We want to walk down
the aisle
A smile on all faces
As everyone comes up
to their feet

I will not stop
until I see it that
way
Until I can look at
my spouse
Whoever he or she
may be
 And proudly say
Look at us babe
We are free today!

This is for all
struggling members
of the LGBTQ
community whether
you are out and
proud or still
hiding behind closed
doors remember there
is always someone
out there for you.
You are not alone in
this battleI
strongly urge anyone
who needs to talk
about coming out or
just everyday things
about being Bisexual
Gay Pan
Lesbian...whatever
on your mind to talk
to someone they
trustThat could be
a parent, a best
friend, a teacher or
even meRemember
there is always
someone who has your
back and you are
NEVER alone.
 
P.SI apologize for
some of the odd off
rhymesThat is why
I made it free verse
and not rhyme like I
had planned.


Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: abuse, addiction, angel, best friend, black african american, brother, bullying, character, cry, dance, death, death of a friend, dedication, discrimination, eulogy, farewell, forgiveness, freedom, friend, friendship, gender, goodbye, grief, happiness, heaven, identity, life, love, memory, pain, pride, racism, rainbow, rights,

William part 1

I ask all to be open minded as I tell the story of my friend,  William
There are so many prejudice in this World , from color to sex 

To me it has always been the soul , the person inside 
For one that is shallow will not experience life in true blessing 

William my friend was African American , he was fun and personality full of 'I am here "
William was Gay , William disowned , William called "A queer "

Well this is a lesson for all to know
God does not care what color , but the heart , what color it shows

I had left my 1st Husband , with 2 children I had to support
I was depressed , felt alone in the civilian World of a sort 

For when I got to Monterey bay , I was on a Military base 
Very shy and recluse , not leaving the perimeter of the land 
I opened such a big door when I left that abusive Man 

I had the tiniest apartment with 2 little rooms , probably 550 sqfeet I presume
I will never for get the night He came to my door , William ," Girl, lets go dancing 
Let's go explore ! He called me 'The platinum Blonde "

We went out together and danced , he was amazing ! William energized any room He Lit it Up ! 
For he had something inside his beautiful soul , no money could buy, nor silver or gold.

Well years went by in Monterey bay , I had fallen in love with a man , Lost so much time

Time went by , after the man broke my heart ,I remember "where is William "
I missed something that lies  deep in my heart The true Love and friendship of he I craved

Now this story is long so go to  "William part 2  "be patient , be brave


Poem Details | by Dan Cwiak |
Categories: family, gender, growing up, i love you, innocence,

THREE LITTLE GIRLS

I want to tell you about three little girls
who rarely wear their hair in curls.

They see each other but a few times a year,
but when they do, non-stop chatter is all you'll hear.

They are eleven or twelve or fourteen by now
I was never good at dates, but anyhow...

These three little girls have stolen my heart
It could be outside my body, alone and apart.

They are bright eyed and beautiful, too
Telling each other secrets, as little girls often do.

I don't know how they've gotten so tall
It seems they were babies just last Fall.

A wonder and splendor they possess you see,
From their grandma's love, if you ask me.

I try to tell them of things that matter
Sometimes I think they believe I'm The Mad Hatter.

As girls do they laugh and giggle
Trying to discover why jello can jiggle.

Yes, they are growing up you see
Even the little one who used to hide from me.

Too soon they will be young women at last,
has the time really gone all that fast?

I can see them with children of their own
Their seeds of life within them sewn.

But before they get to be too big to be my fans,
I just want to say, "I love you and thanks", from Uncle Dan.




















Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: culture, gender, history, love, military, peace, political,

Dorm Love

Ours was daily mysterious,
sometimes near mystical, 
rapture;
a sensual yet platonic
dorm-mate love affair,
within the only male grad student corridor
at SFSU.

He was the presumably straight Vietnam veteran
southern white good ol' boy,
athletically studying Japanese,
with a gentle passion for young Japanese women.

Did his all things Japanese culture love
precede his Vietnam War experience,
or was this a response to West-East violence,
inviting vulnerability and compassion?
Embracing romantic remorse
and male responsibility for technology's aggressive habits,
but,
regardless,
knowing constant passion for peace.
I don't recall ever asking which came first
or did they co-arise.

I do recall his first words.

"HiDelighted to meet you,"
in a Louisiana-slash-MilitaryOfficerSchool
creolic mashed-up engaging smile
up across and through his raised blond eyebrows,
guileless,
or ruthlessly contrived,
"Ensign Jake Ruford,
Eastern Language student."

Hi.
just Jerry,
gay epistemology student,
wondering why we are roommates
when I specifically said
"Anyone not homophobic."
You would think Student Residential Services
at San Francisco State
would know what the word means.
Including probably not a straight Louisiana
military officer
even if he is Navy.

As he turned back toward his desk,
where he had been reading something that looked like a textbook
in an encyclopedic hard-bound scale
of inscrutability,
"Do you agree human nature
must have evolved from a bottom moral line
of eat or become stew?"

It seems we have this old reptilian thing
about eating our young and vulnerable under duress,
overpopulation or starvation
of a struggling to hunt and gather species,
especially before we figured out the matriarchal 
cooperative
gathering 
parts and positions and principles.

"I want to come back to those matriarchal parts later.
But why, do you think,
do we continue to see Golden Rule cooperativity,
WinWin strategies,
as contrasted favorably to WinLose
sacred MightMakesRight Traditions
of
Always eat others before they eat you?"

I don't think WinLose,
much less LoseLose,
Eat first and fast,
because we all fall prey to death
in our not quite foreseeable future,
is authoritatively sacred,
or exegetically scriptural,
or fundamentally spiritual,
nor even evangelically Christian,
which was supposed to be about Good News
of a God defined most ecologically,
and satisfyingly,
as love and beauty 
and polycultural Eden's Original Creator.

"So you would give divine grace credit
for why we sometimes beg for multicultural Golden Rule self-governance
through WinWin inter-relationships,
rather than continue eating our young?"

No,
I think premeditated organized violence
through conscripting and criminalizing young adults
is how we continue industriously eating our young.
I give God credit for non-patriarchal Golden Rules,
if you can find any
without mutual assured violence,
nor advocating Better Ballistics Bureaus.

But, I give the Sacred Gaia Hypothesis
and matriarchal creation stories 
and parables 
and poli-paradigms
credit for existing
and any future
and most, if not all, 
past WinWin abundant interrelationships,
rather than Mother Earth
eating Her nurtured DNA regenerative
Left and Right BiLaterally Balanced CoIntelligence,
synonymous with Ego-EcoLogically Green
through AquaMarine,
and oxymoronic as Military WinWin Nutritional Intelligence.

"Left and Right,
like Yang and Yin.
Which is kind of the opposite
of LeftBrain dominant ideas like
Maybe it's OK for hungry single Moms
to sell their children into slavery
to invest in better is cheaper dying
through addicted chemistry."

Yes, and other xenophobic behaviors,
paranoias like homophobia
and patriarchal "just war" theories.

"How do you feel about Japanese ladies?"

Hopefully about the same way you feel 
about profoundly non-separatistic gay gentlemen
at the beginning of an AIDS epidemic.

"That's an interesting, but dark, analogy.
Are you coffee or tea?"

I don't think I intended an analogy.
Perhaps more of a eulogy
for continuing civil relationships
with much of anyone ever in risky futures
absent most everyone I might have loved
with love promising in equally rich colors.

Coffee.
If I have any idea where this inquisition came from
or might be heading.

"Oh, that's good.
See, we already have something in common."

Something.
Yes.

And so we went on from that first moment,
as if resuming where we had just left off,
or last eaten fragrant colors,
with an Ensign I had never hoped to meet,
much less eat,
and would never wish to know a last farewell.

Two travelers
along love's mysterious,
sometimes mystically ambiguous
journey,
soldiering on.

Better thriving together,
than surviving inscrutable textbooks
apart.

Ours was daily mysterious,
sometimes near mystical
rapture of coloring harmonies;
a richly sensual yet deeply platonic
love affair.


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: addiction, culture, gender, health, love, racism, slavery,

Creolizing Grace

We often lament long-term effects of slavery
on those enslaved across multiple generations.

Enslavement leads to addiction and codependent denial,
then is taught and mentored to enslaved children,
also separated from family and sold,
until third generations and beyond
were dressed in commodified adoptions
and creolizing adaptions
and fear
and anger
and despair
about not born good enough
right enough
correctly enough
healthy enough
timely enough
to gratefully know God's White Caste Grace.

As hellish as this continuing historic lamentation
co-arises a tale of chronic traumatic stress disorder
issuing from slave owners
who purchased human nature
with a contract exchanging money
for rights and responsibilities
and violent terrorism of animal husbandry.

The children of slave owners,
and those who profited by economic and political relationships with this ancient breed
of traumatized neurotic, if not psychotic, people owners
continue a contagious curse of unresolved stress disorders
to the extent we allow ourselves to hide behind
entitled to be superior ego-manias.

To the extent slavery and concomitant addictions
to violence and racism,
xenophobia and sexism,
capitalism and ageism,
(years of potential return on investment)
resolve to heal White Caste Grace,
to that extent we are open to profound creolization of love,
available only through gratitude for sacred dignity
of all God's Earthly Creations,
in all our polyculturing diversity.

Yet unresolved owning of people,
sex as transaction between buyer and sold,
and more violent ways and means of husbandry
as applied to women and not straight enough men,
children,
poor and vulnerable populations,
criminalized and shamed and disgraced stigmatizations,
all carry these worn threads of traumatic stress disorder,
human natural lives as if competitions to own and control and rent and manage
other angry fear-avoiding people
were compatible with abundant political ecology of grace
and mutual gratitude's democratically ubiquitous response.

While the Agricultural and Industrial Revolutions
greatly expanded the scale of slave and people-owner tensions
and pathological husbandry enculturations,
moral ambiguities about humane patriarchal stewardship
and matriarchal domesticating husbandry repressions
appear to be as old as Creation Stories.

Freedom for healthy interdependent relationships
remain in tension with deeply etched fears of self-enslavement
and angry insecurities about intrinsic grace
and value
and dignity
shared by all Earth's Tribes,
all God's Sacred Creations,
continuing internal landscapes of enslaved property
and more exterior climates of growing competitive
rabid
over-heated
over-populated
Yang-dominant 
pathology,
rather than Yang/Yin creolizing harmony.

Transitioning from the Industrial and Agricultural Revolutions
into a permaculturally Sustainable Evolution
invites each of us to embrace
this great divide written across each unhealed yet interdependent heart,
part humane slave owner
and part domesticated addict of self-denial,
to continue more resonant matriarchal self-husbandry
with gratitude for healthy grace,
with love for
and with
and of this Earth space,
spiritual interior and natural exterior
creolizing place.


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: evil, gender, love, myth, nature, religion,

My Problem with Evil

As early instinctive predilections erected
pre-pubescent,
a shadow appeared in my mirror.
A more safely remote "Problem of Evil"
evolved into THE problem of my own irresistible Evil nature:
My longing to love mutually beloving relationship
that could only be naturally good and true
if spiritually "evil."

Yet when I spoke with Elder trees,
listened to mourning dove sighs,
watched seasons surf with equipoise values,
I felt omnipresence
still-struggling toward an eco-diastatic culture
of radically inclusive omnipotence,
and bi-ecobalance.

Natural systems seemed bisexually organizing and regenerative,
or human nature cannot thrive,
a bicameral balancing head within Earth's Nature-Tribe.

Evil evolves more justly
when spelled backward.
My Solution as Live
as polyculturally cooperative as possible.


Poem Details | by Whitney Lovelace |
Categories: conflict, emotions, gender, love hurts, storm, truth, women,

A PMS Moment

A PMS Moment (pleasemakesense.)

A motionless story sometimes bends me back.
I have to start from the beginning and retrack.
Why can’t it just be simple and kind?
All these negative thoughts, I know they aren’t mine.
So I take these pills and I drink this drink.
Whatever it does to me… it still doesn’t sink.
In--- sink in, please, God!
Let me know I am still human,
Let me be abroad from this state.
Relapse, climb, relapse, climb.
I’m like falling down the mountain every time.
I thought I was special, maybe I still do.
I thought my love was real, maybe it’s real to who?
Myself is my only critic?
The one who writes this to feel free from being pathetic?
Oh, Ah, no orgasm in my way.
I have done so wrong that the blood spears into a distance daze.
My functions, called life, pat me on the back.
But the truth is, my story just motioned me back…
To the pad that says, this is who I am today.


Poem Details | by Vanne Joe |
Categories: fear, freedom, gender, love, self, prejudice,

CRUEL WORLD OUT THERE

If expressing our genuine feelings is now a worn-out sin
And by being what we really our becomes our personal burden
When their prejudice eyes becomes the eye of the world we live in
Where will we place ourselves then, if we’re just innocent victims?
 
It’s scary to comes out from a self made closet
When coming out makes you a dirty, sick puppy who just sit
Sit and let the world crushed your whole being
So better stay on that closet, lonely but humane in being

Their invading judgments and disrespectful gestures towards us
Are the things we are afraid of, things that poisoned us
Sometimes too much from them wants us to fight them
But how could a sick puppy beats a hungry lion from its century old den?

We just want us to find a place where we can be us
No cursing eyes looking us, no one spit us unjust
We want to play our own part and live as you live
I know it’s not easy but I still believe

So I dream of a world where we are proud and can shout it loud
Where we can dance and express, love and be caress
We’re soon to be there though it’s kind of hazy
But never will I stop praying until we’ll be on that very day
Never will I stop.


Poem Details | by Carole Duet |
Categories: gender, love,

In the Closet

His heart is silent.
He speaks no more
  of things and scenes that went before,
  before he knew who hides.
In the closet he still abides.

He never sings or speaks sweet words.
He just stands there in the dark
  watching and waiting like a hungry shark.

Someday he'll look in the mirror
  and see the one he always knew.
He'll love and accept him.
He'll start anew.

When that day comes I'll still be here
   smiling and waiting to wipe each tear.
I'll say, "I love you no matter what."
"Just be happyDon't give up."


By:  Carole O'Terry Duet
       Copyright 2006
       "All Rights Reserved"