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"genderqueer" poems
That we are no boys nor girls. Neither male or female. Don't fit in the system. That we are non-binary. Doesn't make us any less real. We are just genderqueer. Don't forget about us. We excist. We are just non-binary. Genderqueer. Gender fluid. Agender. Transgender. Multigender. Genderbi. We are still humans. We just have a non-binary gender. That is all.
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
non-binary/genderqueer
Genderqueer contesting histories climate apocalypse social activist make a tax-deductible donation today starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity Rawlsian diagnosis basic earth cooperative existential Marxism for our times starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD!
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC
Polysyllables vs Exclamation Marks and Bellowing All-Caps and Ball-Caps
No one wrote a book On how to queer up the world. I’ve been waiting for Volume One On how to hate your body effectively, Because all of the brats who spit in my Cherry eyes won’t tell me what I’m doing wrong When I say “it doesn’t fit. It never fits. Will I ever fit?” Because we’re one binary and the other, and we don’t Fit quite between, and we’re doomed to be melting Snowflakes in schoolyards. We’re doomed to tears, And standing awkwardly between ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ sections. They opened up their doors to us, those who fit Comfortably or not so comfortably in either of the two Slots (like maybe this is a gameshow, and I didn’t pick The right door?) but they promptly Threw us out when we tried. And tried again. And failed and cried and threw our hands in the air like Children, misguided, in pain, stubbing our toes on the door That says “real suffering.” Because our suffering isn’t real to a world that encapsulates it in So many words as symptoms for a Common cold.
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
Hear Hear Genderqueer
In highschool I thought I liked girls I thought it wasn't right, to even look that if I tried it would be different, abnormal I didn't know it was okay To want to kiss another girl To touch another girl That it would be a violation I wouldn't be liked back I thought I had to be a certain way dress a certain way act a certain way I didn't wear make up, but also didn't wear masculine clothing I was just me I got stares from butch lesbians that were in gangs I was frightened and alone "What are you staring at?" if I looked back Looks based off of intimidation this wasn't me, this wasn't it I tried to date men, same ole same ole video games, boredom, not having drive it wasn't interesting, it wasn't making my heart race going through one motion to another I tried. I was told that I was just making it up That I was pretending That I was doing it for attention Fantasizing about female celebrities if only I then came out to myself dated a girl who wasn't a girl he was genderqueer he was trans and it all began I was attracted to beyond the gender binary 2 dollar margarita nights at the gay bar in New York queers stumbling, fumbling, sweating, dancing going outside to just light a cigarette for some pretty girl connect with eyes just to talk just to have a connection Turns to quick ****** experiences With a blink of an eye She kisses me, she wants me She want's go further That wasn't me I don't know you you don't know my heart Then I met you Wrong pronouns at the grocery store No correction, you know who you are Questions on identification, even at the gay bar It's okay, you understand Under the Christmas lights of my room in my bed with your smell left in my sheets I'm so happy, I'm filled with joy Tears rushing down my face I can't believe I'm in love
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Beyond the Boundary Love
In highschool I thought I liked girls I thought it wasn't right, to even look that if I tried it would be different, abnormal I didn't know it was okay To want to kiss another girl To touch another girl That it would be a violation I wouldn't be liked back I thought I had to be a certain way dress a certain way act a certain way I didn't wear make up, but also didn't wear masculine clothing I was just me I got stares from butch lesbians that were in gangs I was frightened and alone "What are you staring at?" if I looked back Looks based off of intimidation this wasn't me, this wasn't it I tried to date men, same ole same ole video games, boredom, not having drive it wasn't interesting, it wasn't making my heart race going through one motion to another I tried. I was told that I was just making it up That I was pretending That I was doing it for attention Fantasizing about female celebrities if only I then came out to myself dated a girl who wasn't a girl he was genderqueer he was trans and it all began I was attracted to beyond the gender binary 2 dollar margarita nights at the gay bar in New York queers stumbling, fumbling, sweating, dancing going outside to just light a cigarette for some pretty girl connect with eyes just to talk just to have a connection Turns to quick ****** experiences With a blink of an eye She kisses me, she wants me She want's go further That wasn't me I don't know you you don't know my heart Then I met you Wrong pronouns at the grocery store No correction, you know who you are Questions on identification, even at the gay bar It's okay, you understand Under the Christmas lights of my room in my bed with your smell left in my sheets I'm so happy, I'm filled with joy Tears rushing down my face I can't believe I'm in love
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62
My body Is not obscene. It is not something That needs to be hidden, Brought out only in the dark of bedrooms, And showers, And alleyways, And incognito mode. My body Is not for sale, Not a commodity, though if I chose to sell it for money you'd ridicule me-- Deep down you love it, don't you? The fine you pay for fine curves and no promises. Those desperate nights you need something to come into. Is that what we are?-- Somethings? And no sooner exchange the dollar for a dance than sweettalk for *** And I could do the same to you, too-- I am not excused. Not that you know that. We all pretend I can't... Just a prize to be won? I'm not anyone! Come on, try to take me... And when you do, oh-oh-oh! Congratulations! Lucky you! You got me. Success Sweet success. I have desires too, But they don't matter-- If I want to **** him, he's the one who won Because females don't desire. And being trans? Genderqueer? Androgyne? Hell, that doesn't exist! What a load of **** And I smile now, because I don't remember how to cry. I am not allowed to desire, And if I do, and I reach what I want, Then I am a **** Worthless. Trash. But were I a "real" man, I would be a winner for it. Anger has lived in me. Jealousy has made my bones its home. I am not allowed to exist. I am not allowed to want. I am not allowed to sin. I am not allowed to be. I am a second, a lower form. Collateral-- And I'm yours. Why do you worship my body and yet disrespect it? And disrespect me? I cannot exist. Kiss me just to shut me up---- I'm tired of pretending to be human in a world that won't let me be. I quit. You complain that I complain. But sexism pervades every moment of my life: I am constantly fighting it; Each kiss, every **** My schooling, my career, Everyday conversations, All of my relations to other people, no matter which kind, Each time I shower, Get dressed, Exercise, Turn on the TV, Go out to the pool or a hotel or on a walk, Sexism is there to hold my hand. It is with me. I've never had an ally so loyal. It wouldn't dare leave my side. Would I dare? To leave it behind? Would you? Could we join hands, Across genders, Across sexes, Form a new alliance? One that helps me feel safe in my own body, My own mind, My own home? That gives other women and other afabs a chance to be seen as more than just bodies? Will there be a day when I can stand beside an amab, both our chests bare, and be seen as equal? Will there be a day when you will see me as my gender? And will there be a day that you will finally see a trans woman as more of a woman than me? We may be females. Biologically or mentally-- But that does not define us. We define us. This is My Body. It is not me, but it is mine. It will never belong to anyone else. My Body.
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
My Body
My body Is not obscene. It is not something That needs to be hidden, Brought out only in the dark of bedrooms, And showers, And alleyways, And incognito mode. My body Is not for sale, Not a commodity, though if I chose to sell it for money you'd ridicule me-- Deep down you love it, don't you? The fine you pay for fine curves and no promises. Those desperate nights you need something to come into. Is that what we are?-- Somethings? And no sooner exchange the dollar for a dance than sweettalk for *** And I could do the same to you, too-- I am not excused. Not that you know that. We all pretend I can't... Just a prize to be won? I'm not anyone! Come on, try to take me... And when you do, oh-oh-oh! Congratulations! Lucky you! You got me. Success Sweet success. I have desires too, But they don't matter-- If I want to **** him, he's the one who won Because females don't desire. And being trans? Genderqueer? Androgyne? Hell, that doesn't exist! What a load of **** And I smile now, because I don't remember how to cry. I am not allowed to desire, And if I do, and I reach what I want, Then I am a **** Worthless. Trash. But were I a "real" man, I would be a winner for it. Anger has lived in me. Jealousy has made my bones its home. I am not allowed to exist. I am not allowed to want. I am not allowed to sin. I am not allowed to be. I am a second, a lower form. Collateral-- And I'm yours. Why do you worship my body and yet disrespect it? And disrespect me? I cannot exist. Kiss me just to shut me up---- I'm tired of pretending to be human in a world that won't let me be. I quit. You complain that I complain. But sexism pervades every moment of my life: I am constantly fighting it; Each kiss, every **** My schooling, my career, Everyday conversations, All of my relations to other people, no matter which kind, Each time I shower, Get dressed, Exercise, Turn on the TV, Go out to the pool or a hotel or on a walk, Sexism is there to hold my hand. It is with me. I've never had an ally so loyal. It wouldn't dare leave my side. Would I dare? To leave it behind? Would you? Could we join hands, Across genders, Across sexes, Form a new alliance? One that helps me feel safe in my own body, My own mind, My own home? That gives other women and other afabs a chance to be seen as more than just bodies? Will there be a day when I can stand beside an amab, both our chests bare, and be seen as equal? Will there be a day when you will see me as my gender? And will there be a day that you will finally see a trans woman as more of a woman than me? We may be females. Biologically or mentally-- But that does not define us. We define us. This is My Body. It is not me, but it is mine. It will never belong to anyone else. My Body.
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98
Queer, genderqueer, non-binary, non-hetero, pan, omni, gay, pagan, quaker. whatever. Labels may make people more easily digestable, but I don't want to be devoured by your limited paradigm. I don't want your gut to strip me of my intricacies and **** them out only to be flushed away. If you are trying to engulf me and break me down you will surely ***** I will make sure of it. My name is Gian, and My name is Gigi, and I hope that even that is hard for you to keep down.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
learnmedontdevourme
If losing yourself is like drowning in the deepest sea Then I'm being drowned by society Down into isolation and darkness I realise it's important so hark! This Person is finding out just who they are It's taken time and I've travelled far But I'm sinking and flying at the same time If you've got a problem you can wait in line Behind all the bullies and people I've been mean to I'm starting to get my problems seen to By doing it myself and carpe firm I need to be me so they can be them Heading down I don't know the words But up in the sky it all seems absurd It's safer to be a serious straight woman Than a fun bi genderqueer who can Do whatever the hell they like And don't feel scared be *** or **** Being yelled at across the street and whispered on the stair Because confidence means they just don't care What people think or how they behave So standing up for myself isn't brace It's supporting human rights and I have a right to be Here on this earth as part of this world Not in the sea or sky, not boy or girl
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Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
I have a right to be
This offends me as a vegan transgender hipster democrat voting Native-American-Indo-Chinese socialist anarchist hybrid illegal alien agnostic-atheist Germanic social engineering major dropout who only vapes fair-trade organic non-GMO decaffeinated French-pressed compressed and hydrated extra-skim grass-fed only protein soy breast milk on the regular and does Hindi Kama Sutra naked crossfit hot yoga 5 times a week. And frankly, since I am also a non-binary tri-gender genderqueer male feminist and I identify as a proponent to legalize cannabis and a Rastafarian, pansexual, genderfluid, Apache helicopter beta mutt of mega multi alpha beta gamma delta omega combo god of hyper death who's adamant about polygamous polyamorous relationships with an pure-bred alpha chihuahua which helped me cross the border of Mexico to let love trump the hate and get a job 3-D printing pink ***** hats all day. My dog also walks me to the local skate park and doggy styles me, while my gender neutral photographer neighbor takes pictures and sells them on the dark web antifa site and if you find that weird you're an ignorant arrogant homophobic gender-assuming globophobic bloodthirsty bacon-loving gun-toting cis-gender pan-sexual patriarchal incestuous sexist racist white-privileged misogynistic populist biased objectified white-privileged anti-communist **** indoor tanning Cheetos cheese-puff-loving republican.
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Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
DJ as List-Poet
I'm sorry that my back broke when it was suddenly weighed down by the ******* I no longer want and that you had to pick up the pieces of my spine, despite being the second to know. I regret that, in the aftermath, there has been only regression into my old habit of feeling a strong itch coursing through my veins and pulsing beneath my skin, leaving me with fanciful thoughts of scratching my skin raw. But words cannot adequately describe how badly I want to figure out how to properly thank you for being as amazing as you are, never showing the slightest hint of disappointment that I've gotten back into old habits of thinking far too much, and holding my hand across the tightrope of being genderqueer. There are an infinite number of ways in which I love you.
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Still Awake at 7:45PM
i went to the doctor today i cried before i went in not because of the doctor but because of my father he tells me i have to grow my hair out i have to be a good little girl i'm not his little girl i was only pretending i am me genderqueer short hair i will not grow out my hair for his ****** up ideals of the perfect daughter when i am not his daughter at all
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Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 9:08 PM UTC
i am me
Here in Kentucky We don't show our queer Without a laugh or a fashionable button I've learned my lack of identity makes others nervous And I am a shotgun going off in the dark I scare myself too When I look in the mirror Is that me or no Or fifty percent and what half And what half Can I remove with a butter knife And what half Can I live with And tomorrow Will I be okay with all of it or will I prefer a potato sack To my skin Again I ask you what do you think genderqueer means And you answer Nothing You're not wrong
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Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
24.5
I just realized: I am in mourning. I am mourning the loss of my life right now. A trans man posted that he was mourning the loss of the boyhood that he never had. I am mourning the loss of a gender-free childhood I never had. I am mourning that I have to cover who I am. I mourn what I could have but don’t. I mourn. I have lost so much time. For almost a year I have known I am genderqueer, but have kept silent at home. I am mourning what I could have had if the world had been easier; if the world had been kinder, gentler to me. If only the world could show love. I feel my identity is unloved in my home. I feel it is highly politicized, dehumanized, unreal, not palpable in the air which we all breathe at the dinner table together. I AM REAL I shout! See me for I am so real. Hear and feel me for my skin is true, my mind is true; I am real and I sit here with you. I am mourning the loss of a childhood I never had. I mourn the loss of kindness I never had. Please be kind. I promise I will always be kind. In my arms, my dear child, you are not a political piece, you are not a distant figure - distant yet still held so closely in my arms and cradled like a child. There will be none of that. You are simply one whom I love, and I am yours in return. Please love me for who I am. I am only human, I can only take so much. I don't want to be your figure, I want to be your child. There is such a big difference.
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Dec 19, 2021
Dec 19, 2021 at 2:33 AM UTC
Mourn
Hello, past me. I am you, but now eighteen. I wanted to tell you All of the things you have to look forward to, And the things you will dread. You will move away from our old home. You will lose friends like Jenah, who was there all along but you lost touch somewhere in the middle. You will watch your best friend begin the transition of his life. It'll be confusing, and you will question yourself, but when you fully understand the word transgender and genderqueer you will find yourself again. You will be heartbroken. By both boys and girls. You will get torn down each time. But you will build yourself back up. You will start smoking. But it helps you stop harming. Nana will pass when you start high school. But you will battle through it. Olivia will go off to the military. You'll talk to her every few months. You won't talk to Kyra, or Chris, or Richele. You will break Madi's heart. But you will graduate high school. You will see the mackinac bridge, and Washington DC and start to drive. You will make new friends online and in person, and you will be an honorary aunt. You will meet a little boy by the name of Chase who will literally save your life. It gets better. I promise. Love, Your 18 year old self.
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
A Letter To 6th Grade Me
Female, male, Homosexual, Genderqueer, Pansexual, Transgender, Bisexual, there is wonder in the fluctuations of identity’s observations. Hunger swelling desire blooming then in a sated state receding no longer needing ****** fulfilling. A curiosity how such complexities reveal humanity’s variety. Not to be feared or hated but celebrated and elevated for the chance to see something different from you and me cause life is boring without the beauty of novelty.
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Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 10:34 AM UTC
Untitled
one. i graduate in (now) seven days, and i'm happy, scared, stoked and excited. two. i am not the best writer three. but it makes me happy and on somedays, it makes me feel alive four. i'm genderqueer five. i am a first gen. college student six. self-harm didn't help. self-harm didn't help. self. harm. didn't. help. seven. death is a scary, cravable thing eight. i need to get my **** together nine. free verse poetry is the best poetry ten. my loyalty is earned, you don't get that immediately
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Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 3:46 PM UTC
another 10 things i know to be true
#Frumptart meets Trumptard: it’s bliss forever! Rainbow twins make pink Indian Summer . . . Poke your hontas, indigenous lover, Till Twitter-dumb gets Twittering-dumber. Having had my fill of a noxious brew (Militant Marxist Genderqueer free verse), My soul now seeks a less venomous view: Write more poetry!  Dispel this global curse.
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Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 8:28 PM UTC
Blind Date