Tag Archives: writing

Au Naturel

Adventure to a place
of natural beauty.
Subtract all preconceived
notions that it’s dirty.

Just allow yourself to
follow me and you’ll find
a place that’s been hidden
in the core of your mind.

Slowly undress all of
your insecurities
and you’ll discover all
of life’s fair mysteries.

Disrobe your fears and take
a moment to enjoy
the sun, wind, rain and sea
like a seasoned envoy.

Uncover the pleasures
that a naturist knows.
Reveal your true self to
all your friends and your foes.

Born nude into this world
sans troubles and care-free.
Unclad the cumbersome
and start to live clothes-free.

Strip your mind of other’s
judgement or vile remarks.
Aboard au naturel,
let your bare life embark!

Stanza Extravaganza

Waited for you by the barn
And I watched the shadows grow.
I felt someone was spying,
But it was only a crow.
It cocked it’s head left and right
And stared at me intently,
Then screeched aloud in anger
As if trying to warn me.
I threw pebbles at the bird,
But I missed wide of the mark.
I told it it was lying,
That you’ld be here before dark.
It spread it’s wings and took flight
Then landed atop the barn,
Took a deep breath and squawked twice
Demanding of me a yarn.
“I’ve no time for silly birds.
Shoo now, shoo and fly away!
I await my one true love
Who’ll croon me a roundelay.”
The shadows stretched longer now
And a breeze began to chill.
The sky was now tangerine
And the black crow just stood still.
I walked up to the haystack
Where many nights we two lay,
But found the spot now empty
And grabbed a fistful of hay.
Opened my palm to the sky,
Watched it scatter with the breeze.
Most fell at a short distance
Some flew on beyond the trees.
Then, “caw caw, caw caw, caw caw”,
The crow uttered it’s harsh cry
And startled, I looked straight up:
Black silhouette in the sky.
It circled right above me,
Never ceasing to caw caw.
Then landed on the haystack,
Reached out to me with it’s claw.
Then cocked it’s head to the left
To stare at me with it’s eye.
I could not make the color
As the sun had left the sky.
All the land now in shadows,
The crow suddenly took flight.
And I remained still waiting
Underneath the stars of night.
When I woke upon daybreak
You were right there at my side.
One eye staring back at me
And a smile full of pride.
Ran my fingers through your hair
And I found a single plume.
Dark as night and glossy black,
From whence, I cannot assume.

Ink and Paper

you will heed
the words you read,
the words I write.
I just might
With semantics I’m brazen
and fearless.
Hoping you will find me

Ain’t it obvious, I could care less?
Ink and paper drive me…shameless!

you will need
the words you read,
the words I write.
I just might
idle antics to wake in you,
more or less,
what’s left of me.
Am I hopeless?

Ain’t it obvious, I could care less?
Ink and paper drive me…shameless!

The Urge

The urge,
the need…
is always there,
calling like a lover spurned.

Fragments flicker to life
then fade away,
before they can prosper,
like the spark of a matchstick
too humid to light.

fold unto themselves
from the weight
of expectation.

Then the moment passes,
the muse…
is gone,
like the foggy memories
of a dream
lost in the space and time
between slumber
and consciousness.

Still the urge,
the need…
is always there,
calling like a lover spurned.


Accismus lives within us,
— The quiet cousin of jealousy.
It slowly kills inside out,
— Always feigning objectivity.

Figure of refutation,
— In rhetoric, a figure of speech.
A fictitious refusal
— Of true desires, an inner breach.

Accismus tends to give us
— A feigned and insincere modesty.
Thought of as a virtue or a vice,
— And usually seen as irony.

Beware your reputation,
— Diligently practice what you preach.
Take care, for your character
— May be blotched and marred beyond your reach.


Back when I was king
All obeyed my rule
And now like a fool
I govern nothing

Back when you were mine
I was happiest
Now seems I’m depressed
Almost all the time

Back when things made sense
I spoke gibberish
Nowadays I wish
A day sans nonsense

Presently the thing
That’s rigmarole
Is my confused soul
Without your loving

At the present time
I’m making a stance
No more song and dance
To make your heart mine

Very soon this fence
Will not hold my weight
And it will dictate
I use common sense

Know this Ragman roll
Is not meaningless
Well, that is unless
The string led to no scroll

Los Angeles Gay Pride 2006

It’s Monday night and I find myself sifting through all the freebies acquired at another gay pride festival, or as one of my friends call it, a big gay swap-meet! Only three bags made it home with us from L.A. Pride this year…I dump the contents of the bags onto the bed. Good lord, how quickly we amass so much trash in so little time! So I sort all of our freebies into categorical piles of condoms, lubes, magazines, stickers, business cards, Tylenol PM, Polaroid snapshots…
The photo is of Bradley and I poking our heads through cut-out holes where the heads of two superheroes should be, “Fighting Pain And Sleeplessness Around The World!” And the second is exactly the same, except this time Marlene is my sidekick superhero. As I inspect the photo closer I realize she has her eyes closed! Marlene is Bradley’s cousin. Bradley is my boyfriend. Bradley and I decided to carpool with her so as to have a designated driver. Plus she’s our fruit-fly.
I’m not sure if it was the shock of paying a $20.00 entrance fee per person or the Apple Martinis we’d just drank on the walk over from the parking structure, but I was feeling a bit unbalanced. Yeah, I was definitely starting to feel a buzz coming on. I couldn’t believe my eyes, about 100 feet into the festival we spot the first pair of exposed breasts for the day. A seemingly intoxicated lesbian version of Mystique from X-men. Painted from head to toe in blue body paint, now crackling and pealing off around the mid-section, complete with orange hair and posing for the gawking lesbians and adoring queers, like myself, snapping pictures to add to their collection of “Oh-my-gosh-look-at-what-I-saw-at-Pride-this-year!”
We passed the dance tent and headed towards the food court because Marlene said she’d skipped breakfast, but before we made it there we stumbled upon the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence; through drag activism they make every effort to help local communities in fund-raising for charities and non-profits as well as spreading understanding of the gay spirit. So I coax Marlene to pose with me and the foursome. When suddenly (holy Mary, mother of god) a fifth Sister garbed in blue sneaks up and helps himself to my crotch! Alright, that’s it, enough charitable work for one day, let’s move on and get our drink on!
Bradley’s lure today was to catch a glimpse of Adrian Young, the drummer for No-Doubt and sometimes drummer for Bow Wow Wow, slated to perform at seven p.m. Marlene heard or read somewhere that members of “the L word” from SHOWTIME were supposed to be here. I wanted to catch Berlin play at the main stage at seven-thirty p.m. It was around five p.m. so we had some time to kill. We continued through the park towards the Latin dance tent and came upon a booth for LatinBoyz.com where I gave up my e-mail address in exchange for a mouse pad with eight boys showing off their chests. This one was for Marlene, as I had already acquired one for myself at the Long Beach Pride last month! Which I lovingly call the “Practice Pride” due to it’s pre-summer and pre-pride-month date. Our search for “the L word” booth was in vain, or so we learned from a representative at the AIDS Walk LA booth which was sponsored by SHOWTIME. So, no celebrity lesbians
for Marlene or so it seemed until we spotted Rachael from “Road Rules“.
Rachael and other Road Rulers were at a booth for collegedropout.com, but instead of pushing the apparel for sale (mostly collegiate wear and undergarments) they were enthusiastically offering their beer bong to passersby! I tap Rachael on the shoulder and ask her for a photo-op, she smiles and says, “Yeah, sure.” Then I hail Marlene over to pose with Rachael. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to pose with the two guys that were also there from Road Rules, so I prop myself between the two hunks, one wearing a LESBIAN t-shirt and the other a THOUSANDAIRE t-shirt. Bradley takes the picture at the very moment that I scream, “Hey! That‘s my nipple!” As I plant a thank you kiss on his cheek, Shane, the THOUSANDAIRE, deploringly states, “You did not touch his nipple!” “I sure did“ he replies. I kiss Shane on the cheek as well, “And I liked it” I state managing to instigate and leaving them behind to sort it out! We left that stand
only to hear about Marlene’s impression of Rachael being a bitch about the whole photo-op thing. Lesbians! Fags! Go figure.
We continued the day stopping at any and every photo-op available. Two Latin boys undressed in leather chaps and wearing very little else, were more than happy to oblige. A customary, friendly peck on the cheek is what I typically offer as a token of my appreciation, after all, none of these people have to consent to my request. But they do, so I pay them with a small kiss on the cheek. My boyfriend, playing photographer for the day, thinks otherwise. “Don’t kiss them,” he says to me as I approach him to see how the image turned out on the digital camera. “What? It’s just a kiss on the cheek,” I reply, “just a Thank You.” I can hear the alcohol in his voice, “Well I don’t like it, so don’t do it,” he reprimands. I smile and shrug my shoulders, to which he responds by saying, “Well, I kissed somebody the other night at the club.” He is testing me. I know he is. We’ve been drinking and he’s a bit jealous of me kissing all
these strangers. It may all be true, but what am I supposed to do? I can tell that Marlene overhears our word-fight by the way her eyes widen and eyebrows raise. I laugh it off and tell him in a calm and collected tone, “I cannot stop you from being gay!”
During our trip back to the car (to deposit all of our freebies and retrieve Marlene’s ID) we stopped at the “Gorgeous Magazine” booth to get our traditional temporary tattoo. Bradley was highly upset that the guy doing his tattoo was inexperienced and failed to give him satisfactory results, even after two attempts. So he opted to just rub it off before it dried. I found myself another photo victim and chose to get my tattoo on the small of my back! “Where do you want it?” asked the boy in baby blue hot pants. “I want it back here,” I said pulling up my tank top and bending over in front of him. “Assume the position,” calls out an elderly Caucasian man smoking in a chair at the rear of the booth with another Black man. Bradley takes a picture as the boy places the temporary tattoo on my back and I look up to smile. With a cold, dripping wet cloth the boy presses excess water onto the tattoo and lets it run down my pants. “How’s
that feel?” he queries. “You’re getting me all wet!” I exclaim. “I get that a lot,” he says, as the two smokers make their exit saying, “Oooh this is too much for our saintly ears.”
Erotic City is 18 and over with ID, a fenced off section for “adults only” in the heart of the festival. Anything and everything porn, explicitly sexually related businesses, groups, clubs and of course, a sort of show and tell seminar/classes scheduled throughout the weekend where one might learn about leather sex, anal pleasure and health, erotic massage, genital play, consensual sadomasochism, flogging, mummification, vaginal fisting, water sports (and no I don’t mean polo) all in a circus-like, audience participation atmosphere. I’m sure the list goes on and on and on. Marlene and I found ourselves at a booth with your typical assortment of suede whips, and other assortment of kink toys and fetish attire. I was enjoying a Jolly Rancher Blue Raspberry lollipop (acquired earlier from the Christ Chapel of the Valley booth) all the while, demonstrating on Marlene’s butt how to properly administer the pleasing sensations of a suede flogger
whip, when the attendant of this fetish booth noticed my tinted tongue and asked, “Blue? Who were you sucking?” I tentatively returned the leather whip and replied, “Papa Smurf!” then ran off with Marlene like two little girls holding hands. We caught up with Bradley as he was staring in sheer curiosity at a man in a cage! The guy was on his knees, in a black rod-iron kennel approximately three feet by four feet with a pad locked lid! He was sporting a short Mohawk and wearing banana-yellow latex sox, and what appeared to be a one-piece red spandex wrestling suit. He was making growling noises at another participant outside the cage, but also on his fours. It takes all kinds to make the world go round! And my world was spinning! So ‘round the bend we went towards the gay porn-star booth! This year’s celebrity porn star was Trevor Knight.
Promoting his latest skin flick: “Inn Over His Head”, Trevor Knight was a pleasant surprise to my day at gay pride. I recognized the double-bands tattooed on both wrists, more so than his face! After ogling him for a few minutes, and courteously waiting for him to conclude his glossy signing, I asked him for a photo-op. He posed standing in front of me, topless and pressing his ass on my crotch, took both my hands in his and wrapped them around his waist then down towards his crotch! He continued to pull my left hand over his crotch, while Bradley framed in for the shot. He was obviously strutting commando! I leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he grabbed my face and planted one right on my lips! I was afraid to look over at Bradley’s reaction. I asked Trevor for an autographed photo, where he wrote, “Oscar, Your lips are Hot!!” and signed it, “¬10”® Trevor Knight”. After playing photographer, Bradley asked to be next to pose with the
porn star, so I took the camera while Trevor repeated the routine of having Bradley grope his crotch! Still with autographed glossy in my hand I snapped the picture of Bradley and Trevor, but failed to notice that the glossy was obstructing the image from the waistline down. Bradley was upset that ‘the best part’ was cut off and deleted the image from the camera. No signed glossy for him!
Another picture opportunity finds me behind the “INmagazine” booth where Mr. Gay International and another Mr. Gay something-or-other are pushing entry forms for the next Mr. Gay 2006 and the website mrgaycompetition.com. Another pair of smooches after Bradley takes the picture, but no verbal explosions this time? I know he’s still upset, because he doesn’t want to pose with any of these prospects. Actually, he’s waiting for Adrian Young. Unfortunately we make it back to the main stage area after a quick stop to the porta-potties and hear Annabella Lwin’s voice (front woman for the band Bow Wow Wow). Sure enough, as I sprint to the stage, I find that behind the drum set is not Adrian Young, but rather someone who more or less resembles Mr. T! Bradley was crushed to learn that Adrian was not in attendance. Oh well, we still had Berlin to look forward to. And that was a great performance! So glad I have all these photos to remind me of the
alcohol soaked shenanigans!

San Francisco Gay Pride 2002

After finally finding a parking space at $25.00, only three blocks from the San Francisco Pride 2002 festival grounds, I walked my happy-ass to the donation gate labeled “Dance Stage/Area”. It looked more like Alcohol-Alley from all the liquor booths lined up: Frozen Margaritas, Bud Lite, Harvey Wallbangers, 1800 Cuervo, wines and ooooh what’s this? WATER? Oh yes, I remember now, it is essential in bringing back a passed-out friend by splashing some of this so-called WATER on your unconscious friend’s face. THEY do think of everything at these soirees!
I made it to the Main Stage (at the doorsteps of City Hall) just in time to hear the opening ceremonies and caught the first act for the afternoon, a duo cleverly named: BITCH & ANIMAL or was it ANIMAL & BITCH? Hmmm…nonetheless, they were a sassy lesbian duo singing about strap-ons and cunnilingus, although some may have considered the lyrics quite vulgar and degrading, I and the rest of the crowd watching found them most humorous and somewhat entertaining if not brazen and stalwart dykes with gusto and BALLS! “I’ve got the biggest cock on the block,” rapped the lead vocalist named Animal, or was that BITCH?
I decided to skip the rest of their show and venture off into the streets of these exhibitionists filled festival grounds! (I was here to see live performances by two of my favorite 80’s performers: Dead Or Alive and Marc Almond, so I had hours to kill.) As I turned the corner of yet another donation gate at the Southeast end of this party, I spy a naked man in plain view…in plain daylight! As I catch glimpse of this sight I cringe, mostly from the bright sunlight reflecting off this poor while soul, buck-ass-naked save his shoes and a cock-ring! So I hurry off to join the crowd that is taking tourist-souvenir photos of not one, but two naked men, when suddenly I find myself posing for a picture in-between a pair of bona fide nudists! One of them was easily in his 70’s with full silver hair (on his head) and baby-smooth shaved ‘family jewels’. The next street was filled with drag queens, bull dykes, nelly-boys, and biker-bears! Oh my! Where was all
the ‘Beefcake and Chicken’ anyway? The only ‘chicken’ I got was on a skewer at $6.00 a stick! What a rip off! Although, the hottie who sold me the delectable meat was quite a ‘Beefcake’ himself! (A gorgeous, Greek, hunk-of-a man with sleepy eyes and tight jeans at the Gyro stand. Yummy, yummy, in my tummy!) Okay, so I went back for another skewer, just to have a look-see again was worth the six bucks! My, I was quickly getting hotter and hotter! HALF-NAKED…NO, THREE QUARTERS-NAKED MEN EVERYWHERE! Eeewww and some boobies bouncing about with black electrical tape X’s over the nipples here and there too! (Are they trying to make me loose my lunch?)
After several hours in-and-out of vendor booths in these homo-filled streets of San Francisco and a quick stop at the liquor booths (one must remain hydrated), I headed back to the Main Stage and caught the most breath-taking and awe inspiring speech by the Celebrity Grand Marshall: Sir Ian McKellen. He spoke of his first coming-out decades ago in San Francisco. He encouraged us all to come to terms with our own identities, be they what they may, and embrace all that life has to offer. He asked us to fight if we can against the bigotry and the discrimination that plagues us this world over…echoing the theme of this year’s pride festivities: BE YOURSELF, CHANGE THE WORLD. It made me want to cry…or in the very least, run out and redecorate the world…PINK!
“Oooh the sun’s going down, the night’s coming in. I’ve got a brain for business and a body for sin. So shoot like a rocket, cuz my engine is hot. If you want what’s forbidden, baby that’s what I got. Sex drive!” Pete Burns crooned, as he sauntered onto the stage with a floral wreath resting on his head like a halo, delivering a flawless intro to “Sex Drive” from Dead Or Alive’s 1998 NUKLEOPATRA CD. Modeling what looked like an early ninety’s white, macramé blouse in a knotted floral pattern and a pair of the white genie-pants I so much adored and wore the hell out of back in high school! I thought, Girl, she needs a new stylist, that look is 14 years old! My anticipation (scorching hours under the blistering sun sans sun block) to this performance was rewarded by the band’s unparalleled performance.
And just when the 80’s euphoria surged through my veins threatening to ebb…Sir Ian McKellen comes on stage to present the next performer…some clueless queer next to me says, “Who the hell is he?” “The openly gay English actor: Sir Ian McKellen,” I respond to this big nosed questioning queen. No response. “This year’s celebrity Grand Marshall,” I continued. Still nothing. “You probably remember him from the movie, Gods and Monsters,” a blank look on his face. “X-Men,“ still nothing, so I try something more recent, “Lord of the Rings,” his face lights up and says, “I love him! I should throw him my underwear!” And before I could respond, he pulls out his passport, cigarettes, and loose bills from out of his crotch in a pair of tightly fitting hot pants, handing it all over to me as he bends over in front of me to strip and step out of his hot pants and g-string! This of course grants me a perfect view of his pink parts and not too pink I might
add. I cannot believe my eyes as the nasty g-string lands at the feet of Sir Ian McKellen. My gay world seemed to move in slow motion and my heart failed to beat as I stared in disbelief. Thank heavens Ian was too enthusiastically introducing Marc Almond to even notice this disgusting and most offensive gesture of some drugged up queen! That’s it! See if I talk to strangers anymore. A stage hand dressed in black ever so nonchalantly tip-toes onto the stage and removes the foul undergarments from the stage as Ian retreats to the safety haven that is the backstage.
Onto stage-center prances, ever so gleefully, none other than Marc Almond, sporting a blond coif! And of course the standard BLACK: A black Pirate blouse and black leather pants. He starts his set with “Waifs and Strays”, which is perfect cuz, he looks so old yet so youthful at the same time. Probably it’s that boyish charm that is oozing out of his every pore with excitement as his sultry voice emits the lyrics, “In and out of life they wander, Little waifs and strays. They stay until you fall in love, That’s when they slip away”. The poignant performance continues with a personal favorite from the late eighties ‘Tears Run Rings’, the ever popular ‘Tainted Love’, then ‘Jacky’ and he closed this nostalgic and endearing performance with the appropriate “Say Hello Wave Goodbye”.
Well, I was ready to head home and weaved my way through the crowed towards the exit when I happened upon the FALCON booth. I squeezed into the crowd surrounding the live male gay porn models and pushed my way towards the center! They were brainstorming prospective contests to award free ‘Blue Movies’. After several suggestions and contestants later, e.g., Largest Nipples, Whitest Buns, Darkest Buns, Biggest Chest, Most Piercings etc., they announce that the next set of free porn will be going to the Bravest Buns! YES 10 free XXX male homosexual videos to the guy who can take the hardest spanking from the celebrity porn stars on the stage! Do mine ears deceive me? Is this the perfect chance to be onstage with a gay porn star? To be spanked by a gay porn star? And who are they exactly? Who cares – A gorgeous man will be spanking me and my due reward will not only be his hand smartly on my ass, repeatedly, but a bag full of gay porn! Oh, I so want to do
this…Hell no, that means I’d be bending over for a crowd of maybe 100 guys…OH YES I AM so going up there…NO, NO, NO where are your morals mister? Would this make your mother proud? My mother isn’t here! This is so easy of a contest and I would so enjoy it, even if I didn’t win! But if I do win, that’s 10 men filled porn videos all for moi! What the hell do I want with all that smut? I could give them out to friends for Christmas, birthdays, bar mitzvahs…who needs an excuse for porn?! Just then two guys climb the stage and the contest begins, without ME! Oh no! Procrastination, my best and only friend! So until next year, the gay ‘ol times await in the heart of San Francisco!

Six Feet Four

Everything happens
For a reason, reads his tag line
When the world darkens
The lesson to be learned is thine
So cease the moment
And come for a while to Lahore
Nothing to lament
Through eyes of a guy, Six Feet Four

He’ll share with you all
His hopes and dreams without restrain
And his one great stall
In heterosexuality’s chains
But now free of these
His greatest challenge up ahead
Is to walk with ease
And grace to his true self instead

Still the questions of
Faith in a Muslim world persist
When you seek out love
And Islam tells you to desist
Just follow your heart
And seek out all that you adore
That’s the greatest part
Of being a man, Six Feet Four

Life On The Tripwire

Recalling the past
In an eloquent way you’ll see
Is not quite the blast
As when employing comedy
We must laugh at life
Yes, even at times so dire
So forget your strife
Come and live Life On The Tripwire

He shares his stories
From a most unique point of view
And pens them with ease:
None are fiction, well just a few
When waiting for life
to happen is not an option!
You might find your wife
Is an OCD man; hero in action!

You’ll read tales of fears
And anecdotes of coming out
He will narrate jeers
Of what never quite panned out
But in all you read
I’m certain you’ll never tire
To see how he’ll heed
Living his Life On The Tripwire