Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ConnectHook Apr 2016

Too little and of course, too late
they spend what’s left imprudently
attempting to alleviate
the love of God’s own liberty:
The world transexual one-party state.

They think it’s normal — right for all
lost in a prideful dying fall
their lions heed the sea-horse call
attempting to transgender fate;
the devil searches for a mate
his nightly Babylonian date:
the world transexual one-party state.

They’ll legislate the Lord away
(his fundie followers as well)
their hateful heaven, holy hell
shall wither up and disappear
before redemption can draw near.
Their myths no more shall obfuscate
nor dangle such celestial bait
that underwriters overrate:
the world transexual one-party state.

Their antichrist is overpriced,
the nations, globally enticed,
now glorify the deviance
in herd-like mass obedience
surrendering to expedience:
where good is bad, and bad is great
and Christ the only one to hate,
allegiances exacerbate
the world ******* one-party state.

Parties will form and parties end
but parties can no more defend
consolidation into one
than flip a switch and dark the sun;
the Caesars left this part undone
the Muslims are just having fun
with our ******* one-party state.

Bring on the night until we see
that dark means dimming by degree
two parties? Overdone by one !
So let it bleed and let it be
till One is All and all agree
that we are doomed to hesitate
when God cannot resuscitate
the late One-World ******* State.
a poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016

kaylee adamz May 2012
“how do I look today
was it worth holding my hand?”

i’m holding the hand
of all of my dreams
you look perfect
don’t doubt a thing”

he spoke in poems
always told her
she was beautiful
dipped her back
parallel to the ground
when he kissed her
like they were always
in a black and white movie
he bought her diamonds
and never let go
while she slept

at the park one day
his hand shook in hers
and he said simply
i’m a woman
the operation is tomorrow
if you leave
well, you leave
but my love will never die”

she looked at his beard
and his old green eyes
she decided then
not to let love cry

dont you grieve
tomorrow you’ll look
the same to me
i’m holding the hand
of all my dreams
you’ll look perfect
don’t worry about a thing”
Jesse Wright Oct 2012
Upon a morning dreary
I took a **** which left my ******* weary

I wiped
I flushed
I exited the bathroom blushed

Twelve hours passed
Since that horrid **** left my ***
And low and behold
A smell flowed to my nose
Just as a burning arose
Underneath my *******
I knew too late the **** had stained
The flesh, my taint tucked under my ******* train


Pretty soon around six o'clock
There came upon my door a knock knock knock
And who was there?
Who did I hear calling to my ears?
It was the *** positive, gonarreah infested, scabies encrusted, syphilis ridden, transexual ***-kitten I had started a relationship with over Craig's List

Now, listen children carefully to this...

***** tucked hisher's lips around hisher's teeth
And began a ******* that could make the Hulk weak
But it was over in a jif
When ***** caught a wiff
And that little sneak
Took a pervy peak
At the feces widely spread underneath


I was laughing so hard I thought I was dying
That pesky little poo
Left on hisher bottom lip
Made that entire bathroom trip

Part II coming soon!
Bobbie Bachelor Dec 2014
You wanted me to be happy
But you didn't like
That I played football

Because I was a girl

You wanted me to be strong
But you never liked it
When I cried

Because I was a boy

You always tried to say
That because I was this
Or that

That I could only be what society wanted me to be

I ignored you
I walked my own path

I cut my hair short
When I was a girl
I wore my hair long
When I was a guy
I didn't care
I never lied

I am me
Male or female

Now you know why I dress up in jeans
And act like a tomboy
Now you know why I wear a dress
And act like a drag queen

The mirror never defined who I was
My spirit did
I knew this
Even before I was born

Sure I struggle
With being trapped
In the wrong body
But that's okay

I was born this way

And it's okay
To be bi
Or gay

It's okay to be transgendered
Bipolar in love

We were born
To change
Erin  May 2014
The Concert
Erin May 2014
The curtains close and the lights go up
We wait for the next performance to get ready.

Soon the think red drapes are parted,
and my heart jumps,
because there he is.

The show begins, screaming into the mike,
Are you ready to rock?
I am.

They **** the songs, but after awhile I stop paying attention
to the songs and start watching them.

I watch as he throws his hair back, long and thick and curly,
singing at the top of his voice, with the edge and rough raw that even
a shot of T won't get me.

I shift from him to his friend, his friend that is everything I want.

He belts out Hound Dog, he rips into his guitar and shreds the songs

a  p   a  r  t .

His slender arms, with the bulge of muscle shining shining sweat.
Furrowed brow and nimble fingers that I want all over me.

Turn back to the first boy, watch his hips
circle behind his guitar, his groin pressing against the smooth wood.

Behind his zipper a throbbing energy that he teases with,
smirking into the audience, with more grace and sensuality
than I when I practice in my room behind a locked door.

The tears come at the end, and I blink them back,
always blinking them back.

a  l  w a y  s.

Can't decide if I like you or if I like your body,
if I want you or your body.

Is it bad that I want to strut onstage with my bass guitar laying flat against my chest, to shred a song with my vocal chords bleeding ****** raw?

And at the same time, I long for a smooth body,
a flat stomach and long, luscious hair, tumbling down my back.

Gentle ******* beneath silky cups, curving me into a petite doll.

I watch the boys and my heart aches, for him, and for his body.

I don't know what transexual means but it might be me.
May 10, 2014 /itsjusterin
Michael Parish Oct 2013
The bay sometimes after the rain clears can
Make you smile.Then will you be able to hear my cities cry
To be named the city of destiny.  My city cries out Tacoma Washington
Pierce county area code two five three. My city says you and I are
Irish, russian, polish,and spanish.
My city says you and i are  homosexual,
bisexual, transexual, lesbian, straight and perhaps homeless.  

My city often lets
You watch us wear our costumes. our rain jackets are costumes,
Some are black, some are  white, and some have knitted desighns of children
running home after school gets out.  stitched on their back is a book about what destiny means. English isnt the only language.  In the thick pages my city tells them to rise up against intolerant people, to rise in love and hope that maybe you a stranger to my city understands a few principles my city believes in.  But we arnt strangers because you probably live in my city.  Or I dwell in yours as a proud individual dwells.  If we be strangers then let me take you through my city.  Ill put my arm around your wet shoulder and share my coat with whoever you want to be in our city of destiny.
Chloe  May 2015
I Am...
Chloe May 2015
So if I kiss a man I am undeniably   straight.
Yet if I kiss a woman I am incomprehensively gay.
And thus if I kiss a man it's a beautiful thing.
But yet if I kiss a woman, then it's a beautiful sin.

It's obvious that I'm apparently different.
But people are just so seemingly ignorant.
I live in a world where general acceptance is hard.
Thus so for me opening the doors that society has barred.

Learning to evolve in life is never easy.
But I am human and entitled to equality.
Therefore when you look at me please think logically.
For I am nor a stranger or a child gone crazy.

I am a human and refuse to be used and ignored.
I deserve to be treated like the girl I am and was before.
An independent, normal, loved and accepted one.
Acting like myself without being rejected and reduced to none.

For if I am gay,  I am illogically  normal.
Yet if I am straight, I am undeniably  normal.
And If I am bi or transexual, I am irregularly normal.
Yet I am human, So thus I AM NORMAL.
Zyanneh Frazier Mar 2017
We are the colors of the rainbow,
Only because they represent us.
But sometimes we feel like the colors black, grey, and white,
We use these three colors to hide ourselves away from all of the hate!
Only because they seem to go with any and everything without an explanation.

But every single day we hear things, About us being gay.
We get called ugly, ***, *****, ****, phony, ****, queer or ******.
Just for labeling ourselves gay, bisexual, lesbian, pansexual or transexual.
Take the time to learn our story,
Before assuming you know us based off our looks and actions.
We could’ve been *****, “born” this way, or it became a choice of our own.
Here we are just trying to love who we are and want to be,
But can’t seem to do so because of people like you!
We still manage to keep a smile on our faces and our heads held high,
Just waiting for the day to feel equal and wanted. In this messed up world.
Instead of having to look over our shoulders every second of the day,
Hoping and praying to make it to another day without being the next VICTIM!

So as we ask please...
“Accept Me For Who I Am”
This is a poem I did in class for a social justice project
though thine wife gladly
     (and long time ago)
     verily swept passed
     her final child bearing year

this house broken husband
     genuinely hankers to father
     (yes sire re:to set sea men
     "NOT FAKE," nor NONGMO
     free and reduced)
     and longingly participate
     in parenthood again

     donning baby proof couture wear
analogous (as aye imagine dragons
   fire breathing worth tolerating),
     those who fervently veer

yearning to undergo
     *** reassignment surgery (SRS)
     with unintentional surgeon's delicate tear
aye  thru thoroughly anesthetized flesh,

     (especially genitals under going
     transformational substantial removal
     via said - bravely bite ting the bullet -
     sharp pinching shear)

contemplating, formulating, issuing
     personal specifications to cutting crew
     validating, testifying recapping re: questing
     genitals do not reappear

since significant surgery purport, some hetero
     ****** person might **** sitter queer
yet no doubt a homosexual
     and/or lesbian would ap pear

to understand completely if he/she
     didst unwittingly accidentally overhear
confidential conversation,
     yet warmly reassured the speaker,

     they did not intend to get near
enough to glean enough information
     that said transexual could reduce wardrobe
     with women and/or menswear

and this once distraught,
     distressed, and distributed
     without willingness unfairly
     fated to live stemmed,

     undoubtedly wrought from ****** misalignment,
     would post surgery
     hover off the ground and modestly
     swagger off into the sunset

     (this scenario projection strictly of mine)
anyway he/she could map out in one direction
     destiny describing,
     an upswinging trajectory linear

once future freed where gender now nsync
     with physical gonadal accouterment
unconcerned if urge arises
     to swivel derriere with flare.
matthew scott
highland manor apartments
schwenksville, pennsylvania
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
always the lactephiliacs, never the cows / always the milk drinkers, never the mongrel eaters of coco puffs; bridesmaids ahoy!

i have absolutely no idea
as to happened in
the past 10 minutes...
  but it did...
        news of a sweet
hanging himself from
a well established group:
oh **** me,
back in the day, me and my
friend sam used to pretend
being punks and skateboarders,
we'd head to the RM1
nightclub and go mental
on metal and alternative rock
   and then walk back
from romford to ilford,
singing *backstreet boys'
forgetting to take the bus...
so yeah, under-age drinking,
sticky floors,
       mushrooms growing out
the ******* ceiling, the whole
      given the drunken eye
it used to remind of:
   is that a cow barking,
      or am i ******* hallucinating?
no, i swear, that dog
just mooed!
   so why is that moon still up
in the sky?
   death pulling a joke with
                       its scythe sceptre?
the holy grail in the other
hand, consisting of an emptied
  in my version of shakespeare
   of hamlet
yorick wouldn't be found seeking
"narcissus" talking to a skull:
   he'd be drinking wine from it!
what? god conjures
   parasites, man conjures dracula -
what's the problem,
    at least the former is just itchy-weird
while the former: oh **** me:
           zee makaber-romantik!
- but just now i started
looking at a youtube video:
thank **** i didn't get into
the community of making videos...
it's like revisiting a schoolyard
watching these recent videos
is like telling yourself:
where was i when i should have
been watching
the english soap opera of eastenders;
where was i?!
              evidently not glued
to a t.v. like  that scene
from a clockwatch orange...
                  it's when people
get together that all hell breaks
  and yes,
    i'm one of the "cis" men who
can't believe that blaire white
is transexual... argument?
she's not a thai / brazilian surprise...
those ***** (pretty) boys
can pull a quick one on someone
like trainspotting's begbie...
  i must have said this before...
   well, i'm making time for
not being of the sort of people that
watched soap opera...
             about a fictional east-end...
i have the east-end of everywherer,
the internet!
               incy wincy spider came along
came along to a portion
of his web, sat down with a fly,
looked at the example and said:
forget our previous hierarchy,
i'll play the lion,
you play the hyena -
         these two are just about ripe
for zombified-dentistry of
biting the larynx;
but in all honesty,
   looking at the internet and the content
i sometimes watch,
   i could have been high-brow
about not watching the soap
opera eastenders...
   but now i'm in the mud within
the internet orientation...
   it was bound to become
just that...
                 thank **** for
producing content that is
not-passive, and can be absorbed while
falling asleep;
but still that image of a grown
man all the more
   pleased, to drink a cold glass
of milk upon waking up,
and not needing that ugh of all ughs
that's a "compliment" of corn flakes,
or shredded wheat cereal...
  milk on its own is just fine...
   i know that i'll turn my ****
into a geyser with a chili powder accent;
which is something you'd
probably call: **** *** in reverse.

— The End —