Casting judgements and putting people or experiences into boxes simplifies life and allows you to store more information to discern what is acceptable and what is to be discarded.
In 2018 our country Australia embraced same sex marriage, legally.
Surprisingly, I found myself being begrudgingly acquiescent and wondered why all the hoo-ha?
Why did this stance pull out unseen badges of self-pride about how someone has sex with someone who shares the same plumbing system?
Why did legalizing same sex marriage take over and stamp our 2018 New Year Fireworks celebration? This action didn’t shift my perspective that Australia was now an egalitarian country. To me, we are no longer the “fair go” country. Australia is growing the divide between the rich and the poor.
My house is divided.
My instinct is to understand and be accepting, yet, I, too, have been influenced or damaged form personal experiences that introduces personal biases. I guess, I am like you, a ball of contradictions.
Here, is a little poem that expresses my personal feelings about being straight versus being a person who is gay, bisexual or transgender. Please feel free to leave a comment
Sexual Sorbets: How to Keep the Flavour
Naïve, prior or older,
flimsy thinking led me to believe,
the pleasure in relationships we weave
is about feeling good and doing good
Yet, walking in and out
of life’s revolving doors of sexual sorbets
let’s loose the entrance of sickbay,
that is, difficult people and difficult relationships
Feasts and famines
pained and liberated a set of expectations,
leading to chronic self-blame,
setting me off to ways in primal understanding
Hurt people, hurt people.
Hurt people don’t “get it”.
They are damaged and are of cruel emits,
scarring souls for times to come.
Trickery, heat and frame,
Accrued time out from relationships.
Here, I formed ambivalent scripts,
to being in relationships.
Life is about love and equality.
And it doesn’t mean your way,
is my bouquet.
I am fine with that.
Different sex, same sex.
gender differentiation brings ease.
Boundaries are drawn and seized.
We know the cards we have been dealt.
Whether straight, gay or in between,
we share the excruciating pain,
of a seed exchange,
when outside the sanctity of a major bond.
Whether it is a he or a she,
rubbishing your commitment through
neglect and ridicule ballyhoo,
goes against prophesising you are a trophy to family and friends.
Maybe you need to exchange your cat
for a lunch box?
I am happy with my squeezebox,
cupping the crown jewels.
Happy times of
or, autoeroticism, may not hiss and bubble,
like the scurrilous expresso sex of gay, bi or transgender.
Irrespective of sexual expression,
it is human to want to be validated and accepted.
We therefore, need to adapt,
and not play hangman together.
Relationships can be hell disguised as heaven,
I choose not to play Russian Roulette with HIV.
So, please stay on your side of the cheer,
do not force your insecurities onto me.
Sexual Sorbet Poem leaves me
© 2018 Threekeys