Category Archives: Poetry

Y.M.C.A.


Y.M.C.A.

The Village People
Young man, there’s no need to feel down.
I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground.
I said, young man, ’cause you’re in a new town
There’s no need to be unhappy.

Young man, there’s a place you can go.
I said, young man, when you’re short on your dough.
You can stay there, and I’m sure you will find
Many ways to have a good time.

It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.
It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.

They have everything for you men to enjoy,
You can hang out with all the boys…

It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.
It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.

You can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal,
You can do whatever you feel…

Young man, are you listening to me?
I said, young man, what do you want to be?
I said, young man, you can make real your dreams.
But you got to know this one thing!

No man does it all by himself.
I said, young man, put your pride on the shelf,
And just go there, to the Y.M.C.A.
I’m sure they can help you today.

It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.
It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.

They have everything for you men to enjoy,
You can hang out with all the boys…

It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.
It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.

You can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal,
You can do whatever you feel…

Young man, I was once in your shoes.
I said, I was down and out with the blues.
I felt no man cared if I were alive.
I felt the whole world was so jive…

That’s when someone came up to me,
And said, young man, take a walk up the street.
There’s a place there called the Y.M.C.A.
They can start you back on your way.

It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.
It’s fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.

They have everything for you men to enjoy,
You can hang out with all the boys…

Y.M.C.A…you’ll find it at the Y.M.C.A.

Young man, young man, there’s no need to feel down.
Young man, young man, get yourself off the ground.

Y.M.C.A…you’ll find it at the Y.M.C.A.

Young man, young man, there’s no need to feel down.
Young man, young man, get yourself off the ground.

Y.M.C.A…just go to the Y.M.C.A.

Young man, young man, are you listening to me?
Young man, young man, what do you wanna be?

Y.M.C.A.” (An Oral History)

America’s favorite ballpark sing-along is actually (gasp!) a disco anthem about gay sex. Or is it? On the 30th anniversary of the Village People smash, we get the full story from the folks who know best: the cowboy, the construction worker…

Jeff Pearlman // May 27, 2008

Henri Belolo (music producer, from a 2000 interview with disco-disco.com): [In 1975] I was talking to the gay community about what they liked, what they wanted to listen to musically, and what was their dream, their fantasy. One day [producer Jacques Morali and I] were walking in the streets of New York. I remember clearly it was down in the Village, and we saw an Indian walking down the street and heard the bells on his feet. We followed him into a bar.He was a bartender — he was serving and also dancing on the bar. And while we were watching him dancing and sipping our beer, we saw a cowboy watching him dance. And Jacques and I suddenly had the same idea. We said, “My God, look at those characters. “So we started to fantasize about what were the characters of America.The mix, you know, of the American man…And we named it the Village People.

The pair placed an ad that called for MACHO TYPES WITH MUSTACHE, eventually filling the roles of cowboy, cop, construction worker, soldier, leather-clad biker, and Indian. David Hodo, a 28-year-old struggling singer and actor, responded immediately.

David Hodo:I had just finished a musical about the Grand Ole Opry, and I had a mustache. It was Christmastime, and I needed money. They wanted a cowboy, and I had just finished a western — perfect. But when they said they wanted me to be the construction worker, that was my dad’s dream come true. I’m handy, but I’ve never built anything of consequence.

Victor Willis, who had starred in one of the original productions of The Wiz, would be the lead singer, a cop. A toll collector named Glenn Hughes was the leatherman. Alex Briley originally dressed as a sailor (but switched to a Navy ensign’s uniform when performing the group’s 1979’s hit “In the Navy”). Dancer Felipe Rose, born to a Lakota Sioux father, was, naturally, the Indian. Randy Jones, a singer raised on a North Carolina farm, became the cowboy.

Morali had sold hit-churning label Casablanca (home to Donna Summer and Kiss) on the concept of this boy band even before the roles were cast. The group’s first album, 1977’s Village People, featured the disco hit “San Francisco (You’ve Got Me). “The title track of the following year’s Macho Man debuted (and peaked) at No. 25 on the charts but later became a gay touchstone.

Randy Jones: Something just clicked with us. We had that spark. Victor was a terrific singer: He had the style of Teddy Pendergrass. He was married to Phylicia Rashad. But we didn’t start as a gay group, and not everyone in the group was gay — that’s an incorrect notion. So much of our music was played in black, Latin, and gay underground clubs; that’s’ where the first Village People album found its initial audience.

Hodo: It was 1977, and we were leaving a photography session on 23rd Street. Jacques Morali saw the big pink YMCA on 23rd and asked, “What is this YMCA, anyway? “And after laughing at his accent, we told him the Y was a place where you could go when you first came to New York when you didn’t have any money — you can stay there for very little. And of course, someone joked, “Yeah, but don’t bend over in the showers. “And Jacques, bless his heart, said, “I will write a song about this!”

Jones: David’s a little off. Yeah, Jacques came up with the idea. But what happened is that when I moved to New York in 1975, I joined the McBurney YMCA on 23rd Street. I took Jacques there three or four times in 1977, and he loved it. He was fascinated by a place where a person could work out with weights, play basketball, swim, take classes, and get a room. Plus, with Jacques being gay, I had a lot of friends I worked out with who were in the adult-film industry, and he was impressed by meeting people he had seen in the videos and magazines. Those visits with me planted a seed in him, and that’s how he got the idea for “Y.M.C.A.” — by literally going to the YMCA.

Hodo: We had finished our [third] album, Cruisin’, and we needed one more song as a filler. Jacques wrote “Y.M.C.A.” in about 20 minutes — the melody, the chorus, the outline. Then he gave it to Victor Willis and said, “Fill in the rest.” I was a bit skeptical about some of our hits, but the minute I heard “Y.M.C.A.,” I knew we had something special. Because it sounded like a commercial. And everyone likes commercials.

Jones: It was not intended as a gay anthem. Do you have the lyrics in front of you? There’s nothing gay about them. I think Victor wrote the words, but it’s all a big fucking mystery. The guy who really deserves the credit is Horace Ott, who arranged the horns and strings. Jacques had the ideas, but Horace transformed them into songs.

Horace Ott: What I loved about “Y.M.C.A.” was, to be honest, everything. Great beat, great voice with Victor, great timing in the midst of the disco boom. Now, was it a gay song? I don’t know. It certainly appealed to a lot of people who embraced that lifestyle.

Hodo: “Y.M.C.A.” certainly has a gay origin. That’s what Jacques was thinking when he wrote it, because our first album [1977’s Village People] was possibly the gayest album ever. I mean, look at us. We were a gay group. So was the song written to celebrate gay men at the YMCA? Yes. Absolutely. And gay people love it.

Leah Pouw (media relations manager, Young Men’s Christian Association): We at the YMCA celebrate the song. It’s a positive statement about the YMCA and what we offer to people all around the world.

The song’s undeniable, jinglelike hook made it a natural candidate for a single; it debuted on the Billboard Hot 100 chart on November 11, 1978, and peaked 13 weeks later at No. 2. On January 6, 1979, the Village People appeared on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand, TV’s biggest pop-music showcase.

Jones: We were flying up from South America for the show, and we worked on the choreography on the airplane — handclaps, turning, marching in place…stuff like that. Well, the audience at this particular taping was a bunch of kids bused in from a cheerleader camp. The first time we got to the chorus, we were clapping our hands above our heads. And the kids thought it looked like we were making a Y. So they automatically did the letters. We saw this and started doing letters with them. It was purely audience-generated, which is probably why it’s still so popular. And that’s great for me, because it keeps the checks coming in every six months.

Hodo: When I saw the movements, I thought, “Wow, that is so stupid.” Then everyone in America started doing it, and I thought, “Wow, that is so brilliant.” It took on a life of its own. The next thing we know, Hideki Saijo has the No. 1 hit in Japan with his ver- sion of “Y.M.C.A.” And we hit No. 2 [in the U.S.]. That’s how it always works. Saijo claimed to have invented the dance, so as soon as we got to Japan, we straightened him out.

“Y.M.C.A.” spent 26 weeks on Billboard’s top 100 (during which time the actual YMCA threatened to sue the band before dropping the lawsuit), but due largely to egos and personality clashes, the Village People quickly crumbled. Willis left the band in 1979, just before they were to start work on the feature film Can’t Stop the Music. He was replaced by Ray Simpson, one of the group’s backup singers and the brother of Ashford & Simpson’s Valerie Simpson. The movie (starring Steve Guttenberg as “Jack Morell” and ex-Olympian Bruce Jenner) bombed, as did the soundtrack album.

Three more studio albums came and went with barely a whimper; Willis returned briefly to contribute to 1982’s Fox on the Box. He also recorded an unreleased solo album and struggled with substance abuse. By the end of ’85, the Village People — who eventually sold a reported 65 million albums — gave up.

Jones: I left for the first time in ’81, when the group went in a different direction. But I kept getting royalties. Then I was the only one doing any kind of performing. [When the group broke up], Glenn was working in a camera store, David was a bartender, Alex was working in an office, Felipe was a secretary. It was sad — these were talented men who were once atop the world and deserved a chance to continue their craft.

The Village People regrouped in 1987, but not to record new material. They were proudly and officially a nostalgia act, available for weddings, bar mitzvahs, and corporate events.

Hodo: Bar mitzvahs used to be our bread and butter, everywhere from the Pierre Hotel to backyards. But we haven’t played one in five or six years, because now the parents grew up in the ’80s, not the ’70s. REO Speedwagon does bar mitzvahs instead of us.

Roger Bennett (coauthor, Bar Mitzvah Disco): “Y.M.C.A.” is the single most important song to hit the Jewish religion since “Hava Nagila.” And paradoxically, not one of the Village People is Jewish. But they did play a critical function, providing a slew of new role models for Jewish youth. We were under such pressure to become bankers, accountants, and lawyers. They opened our eyes to other career possibilities: a cop, a builder, a flamboyant Indian…

In February 1996, five years after Morali’s death from AIDS, a onetime aspiring priest from Tampa, Florida, the son-in-law of Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, changed everything.

Joseph Malloy (former general partner, New York Yankees): It was the opening of Legends Field, our spring-training stadium in Tampa, and a couple of the grounds crew guys approached me with the idea of bringing a little excitement to the exhibition games. In the middle of the fifth inning, when they dragged the infield, the guys wanted to do the arm motions to “Y.M.C.A.” I hadn’t heard the song for a long, long time, but the crowd absolutely loved it. I thought, “Hmmm, this might work in New York.”

On April 9, 1996, the Yankees opened at home against the Kansas City Royals. With a driving snowstorm battering players and fans alike, five Yankee Stadium groundskeepers began their customary walk to clean the infield in the middle of the fifth inning. Then, from the speakers, a familiar horn riff and disco beat kicked in.

Juan Gonzalez (from his New York Daily News column, October 29, 1996): They began to dance, strut, and gyrate around second base while they dragged the field. The capacity crowd roared with approving laughter. We all cheered and applauded, and for a moment we all felt a little warmer inside. It was baseball poking fun at itself, reminding us all that this huge, multibillion-dollar, cutthroat business is, after all, about people having a good time.

Molloy: I remember looking at [Yankees] Wade Boggs and Derek Jeter and seeing them swaying to the music. When those grounds crew guys dropped their rakes and performed, you had to watch. From the owner’s box, I would do the Y-M-C-A motions with the crowd. I should have trademarked it.

Michael Musto (columnist, The Village Voice): “Y.M.C.A.” is one of many cultural phenomena that started as a gay in-joke and eventually became stripped of its winkiness and subsumed by the mainstream. Back in the ’70s, the masses did those crazy hand gestures along with the song, truly thinking it was an upbeat number about how nice the Y is, but at least the sophisticated crowd was plugged into the real meaning. The Studio 54 set knew full well the Village People were a campy assortment of gay stereotypes nodding to the gays with coded sexual allusions and macho posturing.

Molloy: “Y.M.C.A.” is about homosexuality? I had no idea until this very moment. Wow! Well, it’s a great song that makes people feel good. That’s what’s important.

Not long after Yankee Stadium made “Y.M.C.A.” a fifth-inning staple (which is still being done 12 seasons later), other teams took notice. Also in ’96, the Oakland Coliseum was undergoing a $200 million renovation. As an A’s batter stood at the plate, trying to concentrate while, say, Randy Johnson unleashed a 97-mph inside fastball, the noise from bulldozers and jackhammers filled the air.

David Rinetti (vice president of stadium operations, Oakland A’s): We wanted to do something cool to make the most of a terrible time. So we dressed two guys up as construction workers and sent them out to the construction site. Then we’d have two of our security guards go out there and pretend to tell them to stop making so much noise. Everyone [in the crowd] believed it — then “Y.M.C.A.” would come on and the four of them would break out into dance. One of our security guards was a guy named Icebox who played in the local roller-derby league. He was a huge man, and when he danced…

Robert “Icebox” Smith (Oakland Coliseum security guard): I tore that place up. The A’s weren’t so hot that year, but we brought that house down every single night. It was magical. We were on ESPN for weeks. It was a gay song?

Fans ate it up — some even came dressed as the characters. Teams would host Village People Nights, capped off by postgame concerts — often by the Village People themselves.

Dr. Costas Karageorghis (sports psychologist, London’s Brunel University): When you think of using music to engage a crowd and increase cohesion, “Y.M.C.A.” is the perfect track. It turns a group of individuals into a unit, just like the wave, simply because of a common action. I haven’t heard it played at rugby, though — probably too butch.

Kyle Smith (director of stadium operations, Brevard County Manatees): There are a handful of songs that just make you get up and dance. At our ballpark, “Y.M.C.A.” has to be considered one of them. “Y.M.C.A.” is a gaysong? Honestly, I had no clue.

Cameron Harris (Wally the Warthog mascot, Winston-Salem Warthogs): I’m the only mascot I know who does the whole Y-M-C-A hand gesture thing while standing on his head. As soon as the first beats come out of the speakers, everyone in the stands is asking, “Where’s Wally? Where’s that wild Wally?” Not sure what you mean about it being a gay song…. I know the Y is a healthy place to exercise.

Musto: All these years later, the gay subtext is gone, and it’s a rah-rah crowd-pleaser for the baseball stadium crowd. It happens. A rallying song for the oppressed turns into a middle-of-the-road spirit-lifter, mainly because the straights like to steal things from the gays, take away all the scary edge, and make it their own.

Tim Wiles (director of research, Baseball Hall of Fame): The song is not alone in coming way out of left field. [Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop”] is played in a lot of ball parks, and someone said to me once, “If Joey Ramone knew this was being played at games, he’d roll over in his grave.”

Brian Johnson (former major-league catcher): I’m not sure you can have a game without playing “Y.M.C.A.” The funny thing is, every ballplayer I know has heard the song a thousand times, but how many of them know it has to do with gay men at the Y? One percent, maybe? But that’s baseball players — not the most informed when it comes to music.

Brandon McCarthy (pitcher, Texas Rangers): I have no idea how “Y.M.C.A.” got popular or how it has remained so. If I had earplugs, I’d put them in every time that song came on.

J.P. Howell (pitcher, Tampa Bay Rays): I hate “Y.M.C.A.” I’ve been over it since I first heard it.

Jones: We made a mark in pop music but an even deeper impression in pop culture. People remember Donna Summer, Kiss, the Bee Gees, but they didn’t have the same impact on pop culture that the Village People did.

Belolo (from disco-disco.com): In life, you discover that an invention is not always one man or two men; it’s a combination of people putting their love together. “Y.M.C.A.” became a standard that will stay forever.

Hodo: The real genius of “Y.M.C.A.” is that it can be taken any way you want. We were once on a television show in England, and the hostess said, “Now, this is a gay song, isn’t it?” And I said, “No, actually it’s a Christian song — the Young Men’s Christian Association. “I mean, honey, isn’t it obvious?

Source: http://www.spin.com/2008/05/ymca-oral-history/


A Poem for Pulse

A Poem for Pulse
by Jameson Fitzpatrick

Last night, I went to a gay bar

with a man I love a little.

After dinner, we had a drink.

We sat in the far-back of the big backyard

and he asked, What will we do when this place closes?

I don’t think it’s going anywhere any time soon, I said,

though the crowd was slow for a Saturday,

and he said—Yes, but one day. Where will we go?

He walked me the half-block home

and kissed me goodnight on my stoop—

properly: not too quick, close enough

our stomachs pressed together

in a second sort of kiss.

I live next to a bar that’s not a gay bar

—we just call those bars, I guess—

and because it is popular

and because I live on a busy street,

there are always people who aren’t queer people

on the sidewalk on weekend nights.

We just call those people, I guess.

They were there last night.

As I kissed this man I was aware of them watching

and of myself wondering whether or not they were just

people. But I didn’t let myself feel scared, I kissed him

exactly as I wanted to, as I would have without an audience,

because I decided many years ago to refuse this fear—

an act of resistance. I left

the idea of hate out on the stoop and went inside,

to sleep, early and drunk and happy.

While I slept, a man went to a gay club

with two guns and killed fifty people. At least.

Today in an interview, his father said he had been disturbed

by the sight of two men kissing recently.

What a strange power to be cursed with,

for the proof of our desire to move men to violence.

What’s a single kiss? I’ve had kisses

no one has ever known about, so many

kisses without consequence—

but there is a place you can’t outrun,

whoever you are.

There will be a time when.

It might be a bullet, suddenly.

The sound of it. Many.

One man, two guns, fifty dead—

Two men kissing. Last night

is what I can’t get away from, imagining it, them,

the people there to dance and laugh and drink,

who didn’t believe they’d die, who couldn’t have.

How else can you have a good time?

How else can you live?

There must have been two men kissing

for the first time last night, and for the last,

and two women, too, and two people who were neither.

Brown people mostly, which cannot be a coincidence in this country

which is a racist country, which is gun country.

Today I’m thinking of the Bernie Boston photograph

Flower Power, of the Vietnam protestor placing carnations

in the rifles of the National Guard,

and wishing for a gesture as queer and simple.

The protester in the photo was gay, you know,

he went by Hibiscus and died of AIDS,

which I am also thinking about today because

(the government’s response to) AIDS was a hate crime.

Reagan was a terrorist.

Now we have a president who loves Us,

the big and imperfectly lettered Us, and here we are

getting kissed on stoops, getting married some of Us,

some of Us getting killed.

We must love one another whether or not we die.

Love can’t block a bullet

but it can’t be destroyed by one either,

and love is, for the most part, what makes Us Us—

in Orlando and in Brooklyn and in Kabul.

We will be everywhere, always;

there’s nowhere else for Us, or you, to go.

Anywhere you run in this world, love will be there to greet you.

Around any corner, there might be two men. Kissing.


We Will Survive 

I Will Survive

Gloria Gaynor

At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong
And I grew strong
And I learned how to get along
And so you’re back
From outer space
I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key
If I’d known for just one second you’d be back to bother me
Go on now, go, walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
Do you think I’d crumble
Did you think I’d lay down and die?

Oh no, not I, I will survive
Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
And I’ve got all my love to give and I’ll survive
I will survive, hey, hey1

It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart
And I spent oh-so many nights just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry
But now I hold my head up high and you see me
Somebody new
I’m not that chained-up little person and still in love with you
And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free
Well, now I’m saving all my lovin’ for someone who’s loving me
Go on now, go, walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
Do you think I’d crumble
Did you think I’d lay down and die?

Oh no, not I, I will survive
Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
And I’ve got all my love to give and I’ll survive
I will survive

Oh
Go on now, go, walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
Do you think I’d crumble
Did you think I’d lay down and die?

Oh no, not I, I will survive
Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
And I’ve got all my love to give and I’ll survive
I will survive
I will survive

We will survive. I feel for those who lost loved ones in the tragedy in Orlando. I know how hard it can be to lose someone you love. But we will survive. We will survive as individuals. We will survive as a community. We will survive as a country. We will survive.

When writing about the song in her book We Will Survive, Gloria Gaynor wrote, “I wanted everybody—including myself—to believe that we could survive.” “I Will Survive” had a particularly large influence within the LGBT community at the time of its release. This was mostly attributed to the lack of acceptance of LGBT individuals at the time. Because of this, the song is often referred to as the Queer Anthem. The LGBT community is said to have identified with “I Will Survive” because the textual message of defiant and enduring presence was already well tailored to queer identification needs, but this message and the song’s titular statement took on even deeper meaning with the dawn of the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s.

Since this is Pride Month, I had chosen to use various gay anthems for the poetry this month. Originally, “I Will Survive” was meant to be the last in the series, but in the wake of the tragedy in Orlando, I decided to use it this week instead because we will survive this tragedy.


I’m Coming Out 

I’m Coming Out (Original CHIC Mix)
Diana Ross

I’m coming out
I’m coming
I’m coming out

I’m coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
I’m coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

There’s a new me coming out
And I just had to live
And I want to give
I’m completely positive
I think this time around
I am gonna do it
Like you never do it
Like you never knew it
Oh, I’ll make it through

The time has come for me
To break out of the shell
I have to shout
That I’m coming out

I’m coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
I’m coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show
I’m coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
I’m coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

I’ve got to show the world
All that I want to be
And all my billities
There’s so much more to me
Somehow, I have to make them
Just understand
I got it well in hand
And, oh, how I’ve planned
I’m spreadin’ love
There’s no need to fear
And I just feel so glad
Every time I hear

I’m coming out
I want the world to know
Got to let it show
I’m coming out
I want the world to know
I got to let it show

From Wikipedia:

In 1979, Diana Ross commissioned Chic founders Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards to create material for a new album after taking her daughters to see the band in concert, following the success of Ross’s final Ashford & Simpson-composed and produced LP, The Boss. Rodgers got the idea for “I’m Coming Out” after noticing three different drag queens dressed as Diana Ross at a New York club called the GG Barnum Room. The lyrics hold an additional meaning to Ross, as she was leaving Motown Records and “coming out” from under Berry Gordy’s thumb.

“I’m Coming Out” still stands as an anthem for the gay community. The way it is perceived and its queer significance is to celebrate who you are. It refers to coming out as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer. Queers who had not revealed their sexuality had shut out a part of their identity. Most would find it safer to pretend that they are heterosexual rather than reveal their true sexual orientation. Queer individuals use this phrase to express that their identity is real. It is used over other phrases because it most closely describes the process of coming out from hiding who one is and exposing to the world that they are proud of who they are.


He would not stay for me, and who can wonder

m1 Steven Didas.jpg

He would not stay for me, and who can wonder
A. E. Housman, 1859 – 1936

He would not stay for me, and who can wonder?
He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.
I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder,
And went with half my life about my ways.


The Dreams of the Dreamer

m2.jpg

The Dreams of the Dreamer
By Georgia Douglas Johnson

The dreams of the dreamer
Are life-drops that pass
The break in the heart
To the soul’s hour-glass.

The songs of the singer
Are tones that repeat
The cry of the heart
‘Till it ceases to beat.

Georgia Douglas Johnson was born in Atlanta, Georgia, on September 10, 1880. Her collections of poetry include The Heart of a Woman (Cornhill Company, 1918) and Share My World (Halfway House, 1962). She died in 1966.


Grief and Consolation 

Grief
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 – 1861
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless—
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air,
Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness
In souls, as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blenching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death;
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe,
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath!
Touch it! the marble eyelids are not wet—
If it could weep, it could arise and go.
Consolation
Robert Louis Stevenson, 1850 – 1894
Though he, that ever kind and true,
Kept stoutly step by step with you,
Your whole long, gusty lifetime through,
      Be gone a while before,
Be now a moment gone before,
Yet, doubt not, soon the seasons shall restore
      Your friend to you.
He has but turned the corner — still
He pushes on with right good will,
Through mire and marsh, by heugh and hill,
      That self-same arduous way —
That self-same upland, hopeful way,
That you and he through many a doubtful day
      Attempted still.
He is not dead, this friend — not dead,
But in the path we mortals tread
Got some few, trifling steps ahead
      And nearer to the end;
So that you too, once past the bend,
Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend
      You fancy dead.
Push gaily on, strong heart! The while
You travel forward mile by mile,
He loiters with a backward smile
      Till you can overtake,
And strains his eyes to search his wake,
Or whistling, as he sees you through the brake,
      Waits on a stile.

If Tears Could Build A Stairway 

If Tears Could Build A Stairway
Author: Unknown

If tears could build a stairway,
and memories a lane.
I would walk right up to Heaven
and bring you back again.

A thousand words won’t bring you back,
I know because I’ve tried;
And neither will a million tears,
I know because I’ve cried.

Remembering you is easy,
I do it every day.
My missing you is heartache
that never goes away.

No farewell words were spoken,
No time to say “Goodbye”.
You were gone before I knew it,
and only God knows why.

My heart still aches with sadness,
and secret tears still flow.
What it meant to love you –
No one can ever know.

But now I know you want me
to mourn for you no more;
To remember all the happy times
life still has much in store.

Since you’ll never be forgotten,
I pledge to you today~
A hollowed place within my heart
is where you’ll always stay.

No one knows who wrote this poem, and there are numerous variations, but if you’ve lost someone dear to you then you know how this poem covers many of the emotions of loss. I usually don’t post anonymous poems, but a dear friend sent me this one (actually a variation of it). After she sent it, I knew I wanted to use it. It’s feelings that I have felt over and over.


Q & A

oran-katan-homotography-danieljaems-07.jpg

Q
Hannah Sanghee Park, 1986

May I master love, undo its luster
do in the thing that makes us lust?

May I speed through the body’s sinew
to marrow? Or is toiling a part of

the gaining of trust? May I pare and narrow
your body down, and open it to my

cupidity’s arrow? May I find my
response to body’s unanswered call,

(if the want leaves you wanting, at all)?

&A
Hannah Sanghee Park, 1986

Being a matter
of importance, there

is no mastering
this but to bind you,

thrash and all, to the
mast. O you won’t reach

irresistible song,
but the rope will teach

you the body’s give.
Go down to the bone,

then tell me again
there what matters. It

will give you every
-thing you need to know

about what I cannot tell you and then,
just maybe then, could it be enough.

About This Poem

“This is a two-part poem, the ‘Q’ of a ‘Q-and-A.’ The speaker is urgent, urging this line of inquiry to get to the heart of the matter. ‘And-A’ will answer in the way all matters of the heart are answered: with patience.” – Hannah Sanghee Park

Hannah Sanghee Park is the author of “The Same-Different,” which won the 2014 Walt Whitman Award and is forthcoming from Louisiana University Press in 2015. She attends the Writing for Screen & Television Program at the University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts and lives in Los Angeles.


Sonnet 104


To me, fair friend, you never can be old (Sonnet 104)
by William Shakespeare

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,
Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d,
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d:
For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.
In this poem, Shakespeare uses his first memories of meeting his lover as inspiration for this poem. This sonnet makes it clear that the passion he feels for his male lover (possibly the Earl of Southhampton) is one of the most intense experiences of his life. His “fair friend” is the most important thing in his life. Their love is eternal, and his lover is eternal, both in beauty and spirit.

The three Aprils and three Junes suggest that the two were together for just three years. There was also a three years age difference between the 18 year old Shakespeare and the 21 year old Southampton at the time of Shakespeare’s marriage to Anne Hathaway. Some critics of this method of interpreting the three years argue that the poet’s use of ‘three’ years specifically may be simply a poetic convention (based on the significance of the number three in the Bible) and not a literal reference to the time he has spent with his lover. 

Whatever the case may be, Saturday, April 23, 2016 marked the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death. Today, actually marks the 452 year of his baptism which is the closest evidence we have to knowing Shakespeare’s date of birth.