JoAnna Nelson Dec 2017

What is a sin?
Something foul and loathsome
Something done in ignorance
Not knowing the action
Is considered unsavory
To those who sit on church pews
And listen to the hate spewed
From self-righteous mouths
Of self-proclaimed holy men
Bigots I say
According to them no gay should be gay
No happiness for the queer
They’re not born that way, they’re sick
And they require a cure
A cure that entails “hospitalization”
And endless prescriptions
Of “holy” medication
They preach God hates fags
But their words fall flat
Because it is not God who hates
No
God loves
That’s the whole point of God
But they forget this in their “holy war”
On pure and natural love.

Onomatopiyya Dec 2017

Looking for an error
No this aint terror

Some might say it is
But they never truly see

Sometimes they occur
Without thunder

She's my the rider
I'm her passenger

These colours of mine
Are all hers
For her to cherish

Only she
Shall keep the taste

Only she's
Gonna make me rain

Only her love
Makes me shine again

Marie Rose Nov 2017

We’re taught to love in black and white,
   It’s wrong when we feel differently.

So we bounce back and forth
   In perpetual grey affinity.

Alex Jones Nov 2017

I knew i was different because i didn't like make up or dresses
I was different because the boys didn't like me, but i didn't care
different because i like to cuddle with my friends and i thought it was normal
I was searching for words to describe a feeling i wouldn't understand for years to come
but i knew i was different, and it scared me
No matter how hard i tried, i would never be like them
because they blushed when a boy called them pretty,
but i was breathless when they walked by
and they would never know how much i loved them
and neither would i for a few more years
middle school comes and i meet a girl,
curly brown hair and a smile that takes your breath away
and i was scared
because i knew i was different
but i didn't know just how different i was, until she kissed me and i kissed her back
and together we become the one thing our parents had ever fear
We had fallen in love

first poem I've ever written about my sexuality, but it's time i show myself how to be proud.
Middy Oct 2017

A world of grey
Darkness and decay
War, horrific war and death
War against
Boys who like boys
Girls who like girls
People that don't mind
People that don't really care
A boy who feels like wearing pink
A girl desperate to wear blue

An explosion
An explosion of colours
Lights up the darkened streets
With flags of many colours
Rainbows
Blue, pink and purple
Yellow, pink and blue
Many shades of pink and purple
Shades of grey and purple
Pastel blue and pink and white

So many colours
So Blinding, so incredible
How many unite
To colour this grey world

Peace will be restored
Justice will restored
Love will be here
Forever underneath cracks of grey

Love is love
Never forget that
Melle Oct 2017

I dreamt you were a girl
A beautiful girl
That girl was you

Trying to hide
Embarrassed, fearful, cautious
But that is also you

It is also me
You revealed yourself
And I saw me

I saw parts
Of all mankind
I saw humanity

That girl in you
Is everyone reflected
In beauty and vulnerability

Through this and therefore
We are lovingly connected
Even more

Aiden Sep 2017

too many people asking who i want to be
where i want to go to college
and
“do i have a boyfriend yet?”

no grandma i don't have a boyfriend
no i don't want one either
you see
i like girls
and hey,
i'm actually a guy

i didn't actually say that
grandma wouldn't understand
instead i have to suffer through her endless
“there's some cute guys i can set you up with”

why is “normal”
for girls to like guys
and guys to like girls
(i had to read over this
to make sure i was getting
it straight)

why is it “normal”
to plan out a child's life
by what's in between their legs

why are people
transphobic
homophobic
why are people like that

like
get over your fears
i'm not gonna hurt you
leave me alone
and i’ll gladly do the same

aliens must think we’re really weird
there are too many people in the world
for this amount of hate

had a bad day and grandma just topped it, thanks grandma

Sweet, my lover, lost in thought
Upon a covered mattress, prone
I bully him with wicked fingers
and seize upon the smile wrought.

Gentle kisses placed to brow,
He reminisces of a warmth
and glow we felt when first we met,
that somber, blue-gold, evening hour.

I know that look, I’ve seen it, too—
etched like marble in the mirror—
the fear that years can cause content,
for what’s at rest will never move.

Legions fought to keep us here,
we’re misremembering the war,
and all our dead or dying friends,
and how they marched along for years.

The fondest triumphs, we forgot,
Our gravest ghost of plague denied,
but though we hear our wedding bells,
The fighting never really stops.

He’s brought back to the room with me,
Just he and I, and we, alone
we search the room to find our truth,
instead we find our memory.

Glasgow Girl Sep 2017

Hello World!

Wee Molly is a lessie bean
She’s very bright and cheerful
When people hate and censure
It makes her sad and tearful!

‘Cause Molly, she loves everyone
Pure love to her is sacred
Her innocence protects her
From prejudice and hatred!


#mollydyke
Mx

We listen to the same murmur of;
the chanting of an honest city skyline,
echoes of a symphony on balcony roofs.

Pearlescent eyes,
yearning for a ripened peck upon
the curving of plum lips
an infectious smile, light reflecting
off the lunar eclipse--
Curve of your back arched into
the half of you, that makes me whole.

Fiery embers,
muted colors,
that spark into pinks and red
in a moment of present energy.

Could the journey be embarked?
To search for the one that loves me,
what realm did you come from,
& how does one begin to find you?


An elixir made from lilac,
can be smelt upon her breath-
dandelion wisps of hair,
tucked behind her ear—
so honest, so fair.

Precious lotus petal,
that lives,
intoxicate me with your lips--
belonging to rose water,
I've heard your stories of selflessness,
with so much to give you-

& admire the heroic ways you've written yourself
out of every fable,
to become the moral.

Adoration has grasped the ability to carve these bones,
into a monument;

I've a ribcage with room for the both of us,
lay upon my chest,
sleep safely,
dream blissfully,
& love unapologetically

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