"heteronormative" poems
i am a dreamer
idealistic, optimistic
the one who imagines her life will actually turn out how she wants
i am the ideal girl to marry, apparently
according to these heteronormative results
that are based upon me knowing how to cook
and liking to sleep in and wear t-shirts
that seems like ******** to me
i'm not the ideal girl to marry
who would ever want to marry this?
who could i ever want to marry?
to wake up next the same person for the rest of my existence?
to never get a moment to myself?
sometimes i look at her
and imagine my life working out the way it's supposed to
and waking up next to her every morning
and dancing together in sweatpants
with messy hair and fuzzy breath
maybe
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
A wind blows like a wilderness of wolves
A vendetta, an apocalyptic vendetta
In its unpredictable, accidental quality
That swerves images of realization into tragedy
Neglecting all with swift intent upon a fallen fortress
In complected interests of caresses
Neither invited nor encouraged yet displayed
Displayed vividly with exclusive claim to that oppression
That howls by casting itself as a consequence of transgression
Upon a conventional expectation that claims a privileged sense
That persuades without an orator grotesquely amputated shapes
Extending extraordinary artifice as its priceless wealth
But who, yes who, has envy of so rich a nothing
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Click “Lowes, you can do it we can help”
Click “Dolly comes with everything you see here including stroller, bottle, and bib”
Click “Destroy your enemy with NERF guns”
Click “Play kitchen with real opening oven and microwave, learn to become a mommy just like you’ve always wanted”
Click
We live in a free society, one where we are independent and free to make our own choices....right
We live in a country where anyone can become anything.....don’t we?
Then every time I turn on the TV why am I flooded with heteronormative racist propaganda?
Why is my future daughter forced to work in a kitchen and take care of the baby from age 5 and up?
Why is my future sun told to fight against the evil invaders with nerf guns?
Why are my future neighbors portrayed as white people with picket fences and perfect lawns
I sit down click after click white after white, heterosexual after heterosexual, gender role after gender role.
Pounded into our heads, indoctrinated by elegantly crafted hate speech.
Rhetoric that has become so naturalized it fails to be seriously questioned
Well I will question it!
I will look for answers
I will not sit by and watch our youth be molded into perfect Americans by the “free market”
I WILL STAND UP, AND I WILL MAKE CHANGE!
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 12:01 PM UTC
****** **** Gay
these words cut through queer youth
like their razors through their wrists
words that cause the list of queer youth committing suicide seem like a revolving door
queer youth of color forced into a two doored slaughter house
The army or the pen
Queer youth of color being harassed, beaten, and killed
While gay marriage is the sign of equal rights for gays
I CALL ********
There is no equal rights for gays when gay people are given the “privilege” to enter the heteronormative social constructions of the American Dream, to believe in the American Way
There is no equal rights when the blood of gay youth floods America’s streets!
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 12:02 PM UTC
My ancestors (i hesitate to even call them such)
came to this land centuries ago
they came with nothing
hoping to start a new life
but this is not about my proud heritage
not about immigrants following the
American Dream (Nightmare would be more accurate)
No
my ancestors
my White Anglo Saxon Protestant ancestors
descended upon this pristine landmass
like so many parasitic WASPs
injecting their prey (the people, the land) with venom
laying their eggs that would **** the hosts upon hatching
No
my ancestors
who helped perpetrate an ethnic cleansing
the likes of which 20th century fascists could only dream of
did so under the title of Manifest Destiny
divine right
their religion masking opportunistic genocide
No
my ancestors
laid the foundation
for the greatest country in the world
where ALL (White, English, Heteronormative, Cisnormative, Land-owning, Slave-Owning, Women Hating , Native-American-Murdering, Capitalistic, Perverted) MEN are created equal
No
my ancestors
partook in genocide
condoned slavery
oppressed women (and every other divergent identity)
destroyed the environment
and did so with such arrogance
such unheard of righteousness
No
my ancestors
were the lifeblood of America
the lifeblood of oppression
and that blood runs through my veins
the screams of American-Indian Warriors
of African Slaves
of Women labeled Witches and Gays and People of Color and anyone who opposed the hideous behemoth, anyone who dared to be different
their screams echo in my head
and i am ashamed
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC
I suppose you feel threatened
huh, Amerika?
It must hurt you,
pain you deeply,
I care not to live
by these
Idiotic
Heteronormative
Cis-normative
Sexist
Anti-feminist
Racist
(or should I say Rakkkist)
Xenophobic
Homophobic
Doesn’t want to to deal with AIDS crisis
Abilist
Capitalistic
Fascist
Doesn't give a **** about the poor or needy
Supports **** Culture
All Lives Matter except trans women, women, people of color AND Black Lives,
Electing Donald Trump
society.
I hope your founding fathers
Choke themselves with the noose they made,
in their respective graves.
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
I'm just trying to live my life
Like any other human being
I get on the bus, sit on the guys side
I go through my day-to-day
I get called down to the office
I'm told I have to sit on the girls side because I'm in the system as a girl
I tell him I'm not a girl and the heteronormative system is ridiculous
I didn't do anything wrong and sit by myself anyways
He says he will see what he can do
In the hallway not long after, after school ends, going down stairs
I group of kids scream near my ears
I mumble to myself and they touch my head
I said stop
They didn't stop
I turned around
And for the first time in my life I lower myself to violence
And punch one in the leg
I break down
I'm lucky to work with such wonderful people in theatre
I just want to live my life
I just want to be left and not harassed
Im told I can sit on the boys side
I have to sit alone
I can only sit in the front or back
I have to tell the stranger next to me he can't sit there
I want to tell him why
I don't want to out myself
I have to give up the ounce of validation of being treated like a normal guy on the bus by the other guys, who are unafraid to get in trouble for sitting with me cause they don't know what I am or care
I wish...
I wish I was born right just like he and every other guy on the bus
But if I was I would not be me.
I could not understand my own struggles
Or sympathize so much with others
I could not learn and adapt the way I do now
Could not have taught myself to be brave in the same way I am
I could not have the experience of having kids with my spouse the way I want to
I would not have needed to stand up for my rights or that of others
I would not have addresssed my lack of understanding and my internalized transphobia
I am stronger for who and what I am.
My gestalt.
For learning to come to terms with the harsh truths of what I am to the world.
If that wish came true, I would not be me. I would not be
Orion.
May 13, 2021
May 13, 2021 at 8:39 PM UTC
I'm really sweaty.
I'm really sorry
I read you such a heteronormative poem.
I thought it was beautiful and short.
I forgot
if I was a lesbian.
If it is trendy for me to like my same ***
I don't want to do it.
Some of us argued, on Lagrange, in Polish Village,
about whether I wasn't shaving because of ideology or
because it was annoying.
I said it was annoying, but I meant that the whole thing about it is annoying. Everything is annoying. I'm annoyed and cold but still sweating.
Sometimes I feel the same as when I am transplanting
fragile cucumbers into the ground with clumsy rubber
gloves, very graceless. I feel tenderness toward you
and disdain toward myself that I subtly impressed upon you.
I am sorry about that. I don't want to do that,
to her. I don't want to do that again.
I felt good when her and I watched raindrops drop into a pond.
Both our natural tendencies were to lie down in the grass,
maybe she was thinking about our muddy bodies,
but I wasn't thinking much. My thoughts were warm.
Today we're going to ride in my ticking time bomb car,
fifty-five miles per hour for a couple of hours,
forty-four degrees is the high and god **** we are going to feel that high. Embrace the peaks of the weather and the pits of our lonely, young, emphasis on the young, but still rather manic feelings.
I feel better doing that with you,
but I don't know if I want to touch you
all the time.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC
my fingers
hovered
over the screen
ghosting over the letters
thinking of texting you
like it could somehow
let you know I was thinking of you
and I have fifteen
pictures of you on my phone
and I looked over them all
like seeing your face
in two dimensions
could make up for the fact that
I hadn't seen in it three
for two days
and then you were right behind me
and I don't think you noticed what I was doing
but god, it felt like happenstance
was on my side
because your voice
there's nothing too special about it
objectively
(as if I could ever be
objective
about you)
it's not deep
or husky
or dripping ***
like some people I know
and most of the time it's not quite soft
it's slightly slippery but
with sandpaper edges
but I love it
because it's yours
and I love the face you make before you sing
off-key, usually
but you don't hold back and
I love you for that too
and you're not particularly tall (you're exactly average, actually)
(but I'm barely on the tall side of average and
she's even taller so
you seem smaller than you are)
or dark
or even handsome, by most standards
but you're like a breath of fresh air every time I see you
(swiftly taken away by your bone-crushing hug)
and I love the face you make
when you're skeptical
even though it looks nothing
like a skeptical expression should
I even don't hate
the things I should hate you for
because you have never
made me feel like I am
difficult to love
(even though
I think I am)
Although I'm a little annoyed with
how you made all my love poems
disturbingly heteronormative
for a while
I loved you
before you told me
explicitly
that you liked
being around me
and I loved you even more after that
good god,
I love you so
and it scares me because I shouldn't
and it scares me because I can't
and it scares me because one or both of us will end up hurt
but I'll take the pain
now and later
*I'll always sacrifice
for the happiness of my friends*
like I said
and you thought I was being so kind and
noble
but I think it's cowardice
and it has
never
felt like a choice
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
If creating the collage at all is problematic,
Then I stand guilty with the rest of you.
But few are truly under the illusion
that it is the template that is at stake;
It's the contents.
Your intentions don't pass.
I hear there are tips for that online.
Gender may be evil, but I have one.
I am every man I have ever loved,
Every wise and older mentor.
And I am a part of me so young
I forgot he still lived,
Someone locked away
From puberty on.
Age thrown violently out of orbit.
The cashier at the movie theater
Asks for ID.
And I am every man I have loved
in a way forbidden between men,
Every flat plane of chest I longed for
in a monstrous way.
Be him or **** him,
A game I used to play.
Heteronormative, the lot of us!
Gender is indeed constructed,
And none of us are spared.
Am I to be blamed
For seizing the trowel
Before the mortar dried?
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Citizen Potato Head is a Class Enemy
“A mister no more: Mr. Potato Head goes gender neutral”
-Mr. Potato Head receives gender neutral name,
drops title (usatoday.com)
“Mr.” indeed! No, no, Citizen Potato Head!
Bourgeois titles are forbidden by law
As are toys lacking in social realism
Clearly you are no good Comrade of ours
Lower your eyes in shame, Citizen Potato Head!
Your periderm, your lenticels, your pith
Your reactionary apical buds and lenticles
Your counter-revolutionary vascular ring
Your heteronormative attitude -
All condemn you – and there can be no a-peel!
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 12:03 PM UTC
Dear heteronormative cis people who get made when we come out,
I know this is a hard concept for you to grasp but
it is about you!
We do not come out for you
We do not come out
For the one's who hate us
We shout and make as much noise
As possible just so
Other people like us who are
Scared and cannot be themselves
Would know that they
ARE NOT A MISTAKE
Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
As we slowly took off each other's clothes at her place. We felt safe with each other.
As I kissed her neck and slowly kissed her ******* then her stomach, I felt free of the church's purity culture.
I felt free of the heteronormative narrative that bound this society with double standards about beauty.
For in her nakedness, she is beautiful. From her dark blue eyes to her pale, soft skin and freckles.
In our nakedness we were unashamed and safe in each other's arms.
Jul 30, 2024
Jul 30, 2024 at 4:41 PM UTC
You will likely explode in the midst of anxiety attacks
drowning in your own period blood,
or some intense ****** action
in a local library lesbian bathroom stall,
or maybe months go by
with no action at all
and your mechanic sober S.O. buys coasters
and you stop getting parking tickets
and you envision him suddenly leaving you
out of realization
that he
and we
are becoming exactly
what we
set out to destroy, in a
heteronormative scandalized relationship built by
secret shredded library books,
scraps of meaningless
faintly relevant
love poems and sarcastic deceit.
Or he cooks an egg for you
after borrowing the only sinless skin you have,
but you don’t eat single celled foods.
Or he picks up twigs he thought looked like you when he was at the park,
or finds a bar of soap at the ****** store down the street
that faintly smelled like you after you got home
from whatever ***** bus stop entertainment you thrived off of.
And eventually he comes back from a very homosexual weekend
in lost Chicago, or Seattle.
Mile high clubs,
train stops,
never truck stops because that was only one step up from prison,
at least that is what he would always tell you.
Then soon after his fourth weekend away
he painted his nails black
and listened to reggae
and wore sandals that exposed his feet
and pasty soul to the planet,
****** skin,
vain,
pale,
untouched by the sun after years of swim refusals
a strict converse only policy
he made up for himself
in fifth grade after joining his first band named,
The Roadies,
The Pits,
The Sirs,
And finally he leaves you
the same week
you two were suppose to
fly back to your hometown
to visit your family and your teenage year friends,
half of which are married
or engaged
or pregnant,
or something of the sort,
and the other half are still puking up yesterday's
gas station sushi
lunch break,
9-5,
because all they do is go home and drink
or go out and smoke
or if they're trying to be super ******
they might hunt for a ****** needle,
a freshly ****** needle,
but really
any old ***** would do.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
Verse 1:
Strictly speaking with these IV stickens,
I’m not a fan of incisions,
For in the past it was a means for sterilization,
So, I can understand why so many are iffy with vaccinations,
After all, why should we believe that it doesn’t cause autism?
After all, my people were lied to before, which lead to devastation.
Growing up in a system intent on extermination,
Growing up in a environment filled with racism,
Growing up in a nation that sees my people as an infestation,
As an inconvenience that deserves damnation,
With people telling me to go back to my reservation,
Like, I can’t even go shopping without being seen as a villain,
Getting followed or patted down for investigation,
What did I do to deserve being put into this prism?
It’s like a prison,
Trapped in a country torn apart because of colonialism.
And if I succeed is it because of my hard work or is it based off of tokenism?
Just a pat on the back for corporations,
To showcase that they are indeed all about “multiculturalism.”
Hook:
They tell me to inject the needle,
The same ones whose ancestors slaughtered my people,
They tell me to inject the needle,
The same ones who continue to oppress my people.
They tell me to inject the needle,
The same ones who don’t give a **** about my people.
Verse 2:
Yeah, the same ones putting pipelines through indigenous land without permission.
The same ones that stand against Wet’suwet’en.
When the Supreme Court has already found in favour of Wet’suwet’en.
So, why is Canada still using RCMP as a means of attrition?
So, much for reconciliation.
Getting told to check our privilege from an ******* who is a heteronormative Christian Caucasian.
Making over $100,000 dollars and using $900 tax dollars towards subsidization.
So, dear Jason Kenny how about you check your ******* privilege!
The fact that people voted a idiot like you in is depressive.
Especially when the NDP was way more progressive.
Reducing the conservatives selfish expenses.
Like private jets and golf courses,
And putting some of that money towards social services.
Instead of lining their own pockets like the conservatives.
Yet the right wing media biased and undermined these great changes.
And now that they are in power they are cutting social services.
Now that they are in power minorities and natives are again facing persecution.
Now that they are in power the world once again favours heteronormative Christian Caucasians.
Hook:
They tell me to inject the needle,
The same ones whose ancestors slaughtered my people,
They tell me to inject the needle,
The same ones who continue to oppress my people.
They tell me to inject the needle,
The same ones who don’t give a **** about my people.
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 3:44 PM UTC
my heart is heavy
as a corpse
hanging from the State's gallows.
my head is light
as a child
eaten away by her own hunger.
there is a marriage between mental instability
and the fragility of this postmodern world.
anxiety exacerbated like rising sea-levels,
stress fractures greater than tectonic shifts,
insomnia that shakes you from sleep,
an internal alarm powered by the doomsday clock.
fury waits for me, lurking like cluster munitions
on Syrian soil, primed and ready
to rip the innocent limb-from-limb.
bombs bought and paid for
with the cold, hard cash
pilfered by overlords,
pick-pocketed by white,
heteronormative men
with invisible hands.
caught in a web of poetry
amidst threads i've spun like a spider,
a noose fashioned
from so many strands of rope.
constantly oscillating
between interconnected themes:
tragedy and suffering,
the hallmarks of existence.
showing solidarity
with the least of these
virtually guarantees
an early grave.
to possess
even a modicum
of empathy
in times like these
is to court
interminable
melancholy.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC
I am a gender fluid woman.
I normally dress like a tomboy.
Most of the time I feel like a guy.
The thing is I don't know how to explain the lonely different feeling.
The times I feel like a girl are weddings and classy church events.
I am like a grandfather clock, the pendulum swings from one side to next but time goes by.
All my life this lonely different feeling have haunted me. The thing is I am not alone anymore. When I was on cross country in high school I was only tomboy girl on the cross country team. The rest of the girls dressed feminine and really girly. I hung out with the guys on the guys cross country team growing up. I didn't like the segregation of guys and girls. It confused me, the segregation of guys and girls. I have always felt like one of the guys. I have very few friends that are girls. The rest of my friends are guys. All my life I have myself the question, "What the hell is wrong with me?"
Now I know there is nothing wrong with me. I was just trapped in this heteronormative way of thinking for so long but never conformed to it because not only I am bisexual but I am gender fluid too. Gender isn't a straight line divided through the middle but a pendulum swinging from one side to the next as time ticks by. I am not the only gender fluid in the world. And I refuse to conform to society's choose one gender way of the thinking. Gender isn't black and white thinking. Gender is multiple shades of gray.
Feb 29, 2024
Feb 29, 2024 at 6:29 PM UTC
You will likely explode in the midst of anxiety attack or vigorous **** to **** action, or maybe no action at all, but still fearing he will suddenly leave you out of realization that he and we are becoming exactly what we set out to destroy in a heteronormative scandalized relationship through secrets and shredded library books, scraps of meaningful meaningless poems of love or sarcastic deceit, or for no reason he packs a lunch for you, or picks up twigs he thought looked like you when he was at the park, or finds a bar of soap at the ****** store down the street that faintly smelled like you after you got home from whatever train stop entertainment you often researched. And eventually he comes back from a very homosexual weekend in lost Chicago, or Seattle. Mile high clubs, train stops, never truck stops because that was only one step up from prison, at least that is what he would always tell you. Then soon after the fourth weekend away and he painted his nails black and started listening to reggae while wearing sandals that exposed his feet and souls to the world, ****** skin, pale and vain, untouched by the sun after years of swim refusals and strict converse only policy he made up for himself in fifth grade after joining his first band named, 'the roadies', 'the pits', 'the sirs', or some other preteen boy band name like that. And finally he leaves you the same week you two were suppose to fly back to your hometown to visit your family and your teenage year friends, half of which are married or engaged or pregnant, or something of the sort, and the other half are still puking up yesterday's gas station sushi lunch break, 9-5, because all they do is go home and drink or go out and smoke or if they're trying to be super ****** they might hunt for a ****** needle, a freshly ****** needle, but really any old ***** would do.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
All the rumours are,
That you kissed me in the dark,
Cause everybody thinks I'm gay with you.
But the truth has always been,
That our behaviour is obscene,
Especially in front of heteronormative views.
So I'm going to hold your hand in public,
And super glue your heart back together,
Because that boy ripped you apart,
Which means I'm here to make you better.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
The Life I Built from the Closet is comfortable, I know what people expect from me.
The Life I Built from the Closet is black and white thinking.
The Life I Built from the Closet is pink and blue gendering parties.
The Life I Built from the Closet is church etiquette and weddings.
The Life I Built from the Closet is volunteering and church events.
The Life I Built from the Closet is getting used to the heteronormative narrative of romance.
The Life I Built from the Closet is high stakes walking into church and not actually being who I am. Because as a wise friend once told me you are who you are. I am a bisexual woman through and through.
Mar 13, 2024
Mar 13, 2024 at 11:48 AM UTC