Growing up gay wasn't easy.
Always knowing I was different to the rest.
I never felt right, never felt normal.
Because I'm not.
I'm different.
But sometimes difference is good, isn't it?
I've accepted myself.
But some haven't.

Sometimes the sky wants us back home.

The stars own a bit of us all.

Sometimes its hard to say no,

'I'm not quite ready to leave'.

it is well known
and I have had the pleasure
and even more the honour
of neighbours who were artists


and yes they were tortured
and yes they sought solace
in the numbing of alcohol

but they were more Human
than any of their detractors
who in their blindness
- could not see all their colours

rejection
is manmade

a thought
in the mind

Animals will feed the strong
its not a rejection of the runt

the runt has its place
but there is only so much milk

Bare feet is my natural daily state
(summer or winter)
so naturally I am always fascinated
by someone else's take on footwear.

40 years on earth
Still can't seem to find my place...
When can I go home?

It is cold outside
and a small figure hides
trying to keep warm.

There is a fellow
with a cardboard sign
not preaching about
the end of times
just trying find a dime
to eat.

There is another guy
trying to get by
on his minimum wage
nine to five.

There is a foreigner.
There is somebody’s wife.
There are a ton of struggles
in this transient life.

Do not look deep
into those dark eyes
for if you peer inside
seeing past
the blast of
black and white
if you see
another person
you might have to become
a decent human being.