Posts Tagged ‘gay


two orchids (and songs from cabaret)

that’s what i was thinking about.


“und i’m zee only man, ja!”


“diddly deet dee dee! two orchids, diddly deet dee dee, two orchids! und i’m zee only man, ja!”

it’s possible that i know all of the words to all of the songs in “cabaret”, but i’ll spare you my singing them. you’re welcome.


begonia (be gone ye)

“do you think the world is spinning out of control?” asked the begonia.

“you know, what with the shootings in movie theaters, temples of worship, a street full of pedestrians, indelicate political discourse, wars, famine, pestilence, syria, pakistan, evangelicals (“our morals are better than yours”), the lack of compassion for our fellow flowers man — whether immigrant (like you’re not), gay, a person of color (you know, “driving while black”–but not just behind a wheel, it’s your entire life), a woman (don’t let men tell you what you can or cannot do, ladies, it is a historically indefensible position) — the list is too long, and were i to be completely honest with you, i do have my own agenda; my season is short and soon i must return to my dormant state, laying eyes closed with infrequent waterings, and wait, wait, wait for you people to come to your senses. but i fear that may be folly. <sigh>”


palms (3)

i know i shouldn’t assume, but…

there are times when i think my head will explode at the insensitivity of my fellow man.

this time it’s personal (isn’t it always?) you’ll forgive me, but i’m going to single out a group of humans — heterosexuals, let’s say, and not to generalize, i’ll select one in particular (i do worry about the rest of you, though.)

a woman that i know, close to my age, with one child and a husband, that i also know, came up to me the other evening before a committee meeting that we both serve on began and said, “i have to show you this,” and as she pulled out her phone she looked at me again and continued, “but you won’t care about this, what do you care about children?” and turned to another heterosexual standing close by and went on, “you’ll love this video of my twin nephews laughing, it’s so sweet and delightful.” she pressed the play button and i was excused.

i ignored the snub and looked anyway and said something complimentary about how cute they were; we had our meeting, we left, end of story. except it isn’t, because, for the life of me, i cannot get over how hurt i am by her assumption — gay men don’t like children — and by her insensitivity to my feelings. am i wrong to feel this way? do you heterosexuals just assume gay men/people don’t like children and don’t have any interest in the triumphs and antics of small children? don’t answer too quickly…dig deep down and examine your feelings on this topic. because, you know, you should.

the fact is i love children. children and i get along famously and always have. i’m delighted that there are people on this earth who are willing to give up so much to continue producing and raising children–many of them do this job well (and many don’t, but that’s a story for another time).

i can’t bring myself to say anything to her; usually i’m not that shy, but this time it’s really set me back. maybe one day i’ll get past it and chalk it up to the battle we are still fighting to be recognized as human beings just like you.


am i blue (or was i gay until today?)

it’s what i was thinking about.

and when you’re feeling camp, you should just roll with it.


a week of first paragraphs–thursday

“Ennis Del Mar wakes before five, wind rocking the trailer, hissing in around the aluminum door and window frames. The shirts hanging on a nail shudder slightly in the draft. He gets up, scratching the grey wedge of belly and pubic hair, shuffles to the gas burner, pours leftover coffee in a chipped enamel pan; the flame swathes in blue. He turns on the tap and urinates in the sink, pulls on his shirt and jeans, his worn boots, stamping the heels against the floor to get them full on. The wind booms down the curved length of the trailer and under its roaring passage he can hear the scratching of fine gravel and sand. It could be bad on the highway with the horse trailer. He has to be packed and away from the place that morning. Again the ranch is on the market and they’ve shipped out the last of the horses, paid everybody off the day before, the owner saying, “Give em to the real estate shark, I’m out a here,” dropping the keys in Ennis’s hand. He might have to stay with his married daughter until he picks up another job, yet he is suffused with a sense of pleasure because Jack Twist was in his dream.”  –Annie Proulx, “Brokeback Mountain” (from her collection of short stories, “Close Range, Wyoming Stories”)


the other side of town


when do you admit that beauty is all around you?

that even in the most mundane juxtaposition of color and form there is beauty?

beauty is not always gay.

and the choices we make when we decide beauty is in front of us are often difficult.

acceptance is perhaps the most difficult when you are reminded that you are out of your comfort zone.

but then you see that others have decided that their mean life is beautiful and you succumb to their choices, their decisions.

even when you are constantly reminded of the differences that still exist between your world and theirs.



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© Robert Patrick, and Cultivar, 2008-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts, photographs and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Robert Patrick and Cultivar with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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