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Sean M O'Kane Sep 2018
Auntie Em is calling….

I was just getting to love my Emerald City
The shiny feel of it, its sweetly diverse demi-monde.
Its shimmering green beauty and tranquil sense of safety.
The heels of my ruby red slippers were well & truly dug in.
But no, the state fair balloon stands before me ******* & ready to go.
A grand exclamation mark in my way if ever there was one.
And Toto for once has gone mute, no chance of a last minute hold up.

"Dorothy, Dorothy, where are you?"

I guess it must have been too fantastical a dream to be true.
A time for goodbyes.
I’m embracing the Lion telling him to always be proud of himself & not to walk unafraid.
The Tin Man’s gentle open heartedness I compliment him on as we both shed tears.
The Scarecrow I kiss and thank for his loyalty & grace under fiery pressure.
With a heavy heart, I climb that first tentative step on the block.  

"We’re sick with worry over you"

I could be angry but the wise words of the mystic ring loudly in my year.
I do need to go back – My Auntie Em is really calling me.
Calling me back to the grey flatlands of home.
Back to the numbness of small town heteronormativity.
Where Twisters rarely every came by to sweep you away and save you.
I could only keep singing ‘Over The Rainbow’ in vain hope.

"Find yourself a place where you won't get into any trouble!

Unlike Dorothy Gale, this Dorothy left Kansas voluntarily
The long yellow brick road finally took me under the rainbow and on to my Emerald City
I no longer pined for home but knew all along that it would call me back one day.
And so here I am, drifting higher & higher away from my adopted home.
Perhaps I need to build a revolving door when I get there to pass through both worlds easily
Or perhaps bring something of the rainbow back to illuminate the grey-lands.
Or perhaps – in reality -  some reconciliation between these worlds is in order.
Perhaps.
It’s time to slip on the ruby red slippers and prepare the way for Kansas.
Yes, this Dorothy has surrendered but
I always had the power to be me, my dear.
I just had to learn it for myself.

August –September 2018
This poem was written in response to my feelings about some tragic news I received last month & how I was dealing with it. Initially, it was quite deep & bitter in the way it wallowed over the world I thought I was losing because of my duty to family. My home town is a stifling throwback to bad old neanderthal homophobia and has nary a sniff of transcendental beauty unlike my adopted home.

However, I thought long & hard and realised that because I now stand tall as a proud bi/pan/queer person I should take what I have gained and use it to guide me. Plus my anger was wrongly placed - not at the family member for taking me away from my Emerald City but cancer itself for throwing chaos into our lives.
Kayla Mar 2018
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Please stop staring at the hole.
With magic i could be one once more,
But fairytales aren't standing tall.
Ruby shoes run out of wishes
I'm sculpted, carved. just like pumpkin.
There's just no light inside. It's gone.
Arlo Disarray Jan 2018
A brick road laid in front of me,
one slab at a time
I took a step along the path
to see what I could find

A scarecrow cried out for help,
sounded like he was in pain
I asked him what he needed
and he expressed to me,
"a brain."

So I sliced my forehead carefully,
and took mine from my skull
I placed it in his head and said,
"there, now your mind is full."

He thanked me as I wandered on
to find another friend
I met a lion on the bricks
whose life was at its end

He was afraid of everything,
and he was so discouraged
So I reached into my gut
and I gave him all my courage

He smiled and waved
as I left
to give someone else a hand
And I heard the cries of sadness
from a rusted, old tin man

I asked him what he needed and he wailed out,
"a heart!"
So I pulled myself open and tore my ribs and chest apart

Now that I am empty,
I'm dumb, scared, and alone
All that I can think is,
"there is no place like home."
Arlo Disarray Jul 2017
I lick my cracking lips to moisten them,
and I taste him

The sweet and salty flavor of another human wraps itself around my tongue
and he's all I can think about

My smile shows itself when he's around,
and I lose control of my cool

I drop the act,
and let the human side of me appear for him

I smell the ocean when he's near,
because it roars behind his eyes
There are waves of blue and green woven throughout them
and they are irresistibly beautiful

The midnight skies can't compete with the color of his hair
My fingers could easily get lost for hours at a time
running over his ears and around the back of his neck

I've never seen such an innocent smile
Every time he lets it show,
I glow from the inside out

And I just wish I could ask the wizard for some courage

Because I've never
been so afraid
to tell someone how I feel
melli7 May 2017
There are precious few at ease
with moral ambiguities,
so we act as though they don't exist.







              ---Wizard of Oz in "Wicked," lyricist Stephen Swartz
Clary Burn Sep 2016
old tunes cranked out
from ancient machines too old for me
i couldn't properly operate them now
i take pride in my technological abilities
but forget their analog routes.
cant read analog clocks. never learnt
quite as well as i should have, head
leant against the wall that housed my few fancy dresses
for when i was to play grown up
now i know what being grown up is
i want to be a child again
follow follow follow follow
ah what a happy tune
when my biggest worries were my incomplete vhs collections

i saw a vhs tape for the first time in years recently. i used to have a lot
tucked under my tiny television.
i wanted to grow up
why??
why???
im annoyed now. i try to make the most of things
as i didnt when i was a kid
but i know that i will still have regrets in 5, 10, 15 years time
******
follow follow follow follow
bright colours and hazy, lazy editing
the star wars trilogy, almost all ten seasons of friends
my blankets
my little pink chair
comfy, i suppose
follow follow follow
follow the yellow brick road
not the kind of poetry i ordinarily write. much more enjoyable.
Arlo Disarray Jan 2015
Thump, thump, thump says my heart, as I breathe
It increases speed when it knows you're around
But it cracks a little bit every time you have to leave
And the blood filling my soul will leave me drowned

When you speak, your words all sound like custom songs
Which you've been writing especially for me
I just wrong all your rights as you right all my wrongs
Though, I'm sure that you would disagree

I don't have much to offer, I only have shame and pain
And I will always paint you into my art
Let's go visit the wizard, and I'll ask him for a brain
And maybe he'll also give you a heart

— The End —