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RIP - Comicality
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For 'him'

. Might jaded be the cruelest of concepts, The one that will allow no sleep at night, The tormentor with its holy precepts That only might possesses what is right? How many are the fucking sad moments When doubt intrudes on dreams with its moaning, To tick like a clock with its arguments That nothing's ever come from my groaning. How to pray for relief when even faith Allows no creed to say I'm good enough; How to foster hope when my mind's
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Rhyming Is Fundamental

. Rhyming is Fundamental   I'm no great Rhymin' Simon, and make lots of 'mistakes' that would cause academics to wag boney fingers at my poetry night and day, but I do know something about the basics. I thought I'd share some information and thoughts on how you can be more comfortable making your own rhymes. I'm not going to present these ideas in a 'right or wrong' method. Rules exist to be broken, but artistry means you know what you are breaking and do it deliberately.
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answers to a quiz

I posted a little quiz in a status update. Here are the answers, and thanks for looking.     Original question: A little game – can you name two of the ways in which W. S. Gilbert (as in Gilbert and Sullivan fame) changed and contributed to everyday English? One is a two-word expression he coined, and the other has a definite Gay connection!     Answer one: Two word expression = "hardly ever." It all has to do with seasickness. In H.M.S. Pinafore, the chorus of sailors takes umbrage at the
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Some Classic Tanka

Tanka Some translations from the Hyakku-nin Isshu, or The Issue of a Hundred People       51 by Fujiwara no Sanekata   Why so strongly red, As if I could tell of them That sad mogusa[1] Retains their own way of pain And like love, must endure it.       52 by Fujiwara no Michi-Nobu   If the morning breaks, The coming things are all there, Whitened by their length And all by the look of things, Is nothing but morning light.       53 by Udaisho Michi-Tsuna no Hana   Little by lit
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This dawn I let me sleep my full

This dawn I let me sleep my full And found a dream reward – A place within the living day Where recall too can breathe.   Two boys came together once more And though I've not seen them For many years, still to my eye They had not changed at all.   One hand into the other slipped And off they went to be Sequestered safe within their love As if no time had passed.   How wonderful to dream like this And present meld with past – That wakes and carries what I've seen Diffuse in me a
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Poetry Prompt 3 - Lyrics

Ok, here's my own attempt at the challenge:     This dawn I let me sleep my full And found a dream reward – A place within the living day Where recall too can breathe.   How wonderful to dream like this And present meld with past – That wakes and carries what I've seen Diffuse in me all day.
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Poetry Prompt 2 - Haiku

Here's my own attempt, as I rarely write Haiku     Nature Haiku:   A poppy amongst The bushes of rose, will bow When a chill winds blows.       Urban Haiku:   Shy dog and hydrant Stand off 'neath the noonday sky – Which one will get wet?     _
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Big Thanks to Timothy M and Renee Stevens

I would like to take this opportunity to praise GA for being the wonderful community that is! The spirit of camaraderie and support is truly awe inspiring.   In particular, I with to thank Timothy M and Renee Stevens for a recent posting, and I would be honored if everyone could check out my personal notes of thanks within the entry itself.   You guys, everyone on this site, are all the simply the best!   http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/blog/258/entry-14864-featured-story-judas-tree-novel
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Three WW1 Poems, a tribute

Poem 3: Many Vespers   On a road stretching to the horizon, The grey arrow of our marching is deterred By muddy feet and hearts without the sun To troop along behind the line of one life pilfered.   His boots placed reversed in the riding mount Remind us all that we are leaderless, Tho no tears can come from the dried-up fount Where once our sorrows flowed pure and boundless.   The funeral procession will march on, But this fuss for one rankles when many others Received cold obse
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"Don't Panic!" – or, how to read a screenplay

"Don't Panic!" – or, how to read a screenplay   In a scene from the pen of the immortal Douglas Adams, we are presented with this image:   "Ford!" he said, "there's an infinite number of monkeys outside who want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they've worked out."   Adams’ The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (London 1981) explains that the situation of the monkeys with movie ambitions is merely temporary, and is one of the unavoidable res
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A Monty Python World - Wensleydale, anyone..?

Ok. It's a classic sketch of TV comedy. John Cleese walks into a cheese monger's shop and wants to buy some 'cheesy comestibles.' To his surprise, no matter how many types of clotted and aged dairy foods of the cheese kind he names, the shop is out.     At one point Cleese kisses his fingertips and cries out "Vive le fromage de la belle France!" and now he has a new product and region to extol. Vive le fromage de la belle Tarim Basin…?   Yes. If you are a fan of well-aged fermented curd
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Three WW1 Poems, a tribute

Poem 2: The Waltz and the Lance   Every man will dance to his tune, Whether his comrades can hear it or not, And when the music fades too soon, The memory will glue him to the spot. Feted wonder then is it there That to such a man as this, others will stare.   To twist and turn about his fate, Is no mean feat when others are in charge, Inclined to pause and hesitate, A private moment to enlarge. But what's done in equality Is bold beyond words, for all that might agree.  
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Three WW1 Poems, a tribute

Poem 1: Hyacinths on the Somme   The beat in the air is like a drum Where every drop of rain falls cold And snares the mud where blood was sold To march the men to kingdom come.   Too late we there upon the field Were to find the reason to live Was our life to each other give And soothe the wound that never healed.   So flowers in the mud are we Boldly blooming within our hearts By His command and lusty darts Before our time to die could be.
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Terry's Ballade

Ballade:   Shadows creep up my wall to say The time is ticking fast on me And though I wait, it's long in the day To have so many doubts about me – To weigh me down, and not be free. Questions crawl up my heart inside Where no one sees, not even me The shadow's pace that I long to hide.   Then sometimes it seems I should pray Humbly upon a bended knee To hurry up the long Judgment Day That from my mind will clear the debris – That will rend my heart most holy. So until that t
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The Sensualist Burger

The Sensualist Burger     Not much has been said about the typewriter's powerful limitations on an artist's imagination. Typing a thing makes it look so permanent, and shatters the pretty illusion that a pen-stroke offers of an easy redo. To that end, there came a generation of writers tied to the terrible indelibility of a typewritten word, sentence and paragraph. And, I have read that Earnest Hemingway would sit in agonized concentration for an hour or more before he dared to strike the k
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Suffering

"Happiness is what we give Ourselves – Suffering is what we get From our friends and family."
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"A Marriage Below Zero" and its Contemporary Readers, Part 2

(Reprinted from here: https://www.gayauthors.org/story/ac-benus/amarriagebelowzero-operalibretto/5)       Part 2:   Refuting the Voice of the Majority – A Marriage Below Zero and its Contemporary Readers[1]       An honest tale speeds best, B eing plainly told . Shakespeare Richard III, Act I, Scene iv           Part Five – Romantic Ideal Damon and Who..? [50]   Under persecution their love held firm, and that, even to the point of death. What mor
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"A Marriage Below Zero" and its Contemporary Readers, Part 1

(Reprinted from here: https://www.gayauthors.org/story/ac-benus/amarriagebelowzero-operalibretto/5)       Part 1:   Refuting the Voice of the Majority – A Marriage Below Zero and its Contemporary Readers[1]       An honest tale speeds best, B eing plainly told . Shakespeare Richard III, Act I, Scene iv         Part One – Opening Volley The Barrage of Questions   In terms of preparing a libretto based on A Marriage Below Zero, I know that I have lef
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buon compleanno Tony, carino mio –

Questa cosa qua condicione dell'amore? Sempre questa, respirare alla polmoni, il sangue dal vene mio, e il pensieri nella mia testa – tutte sono la vostra voce, e so che in me ho ancora è la vita.
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undertow

What misery supplies is often met Not by cure, and much less by solution, But it's by injury our pains get wet – With tearful demand, comes absolution. Like a stroll on the beach I see them come; One care pushing the incoming beneath, By the weak undertow, the strong grow numb, And bathe the tides in shallow points of grief. Yet the heart returns to a hunger bold, And old woes sometimes new wail decries Not letting new grief luxury in old The way hope often better-sense denies.
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Essays

Coming Out, And " The Closet "

. Coming Out, and "The Closet" An historical review on the semantics of the terms This piece cannot be as extensive or elaborate as I would like, for I lack further resources to research the subject, however, in preparing the seventh and final screenplay for The Secret Melville series, I once again encountered the phrase "to come out" in a clear LGBT context in that author's work. I wonder if straight people are even aware of it? Aware that there is a massive current of denial
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A Rip

Sorrow is like a black hole, It can crush the fabric of reality Into what is impossibly dense – A Rip that sinks to never rise But One that demands constant feeding, So it drains all happiness as well Into the other-side universe Where all is sadness and hope.   How many are the springs That feed our lamentable place With the tears and joys Of our mirrored home in the universe?
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