Sifrid

Author: sifrid Collection of gay-themed poetry on diverse topics.

Of all the many views you gave to me Why did I save the one of when you slept? While other men the hard and brazen surely kept, I, the tender spirit chose to see - Like young Endymion who slept upon The hillside, soft and bare beneath the moon, And lay uncaring, open; and yet soon Awoke and stretched and then was gone. With beard and sinew, stern and callous gaze You draw those men who win more oft than I To taste those battles lasting but a night.

Will the author lose his younger lover or is he imaging ghosts that don't exist?

Moon Square Venus He’s standing in the window. Just standing there. Why? It’s not like here’s a lot to see. Just a few dumpsters, their tops open, empty still since yesterday was collection day. In the daylight, the houses and stores are painted pastel colors; at night in the streetlight, everything’s washed out to various shades of gray, looking like that deserted town on that Caribbean island that’s covered in volcanic ash. The only colors that break through the grays are the Asian gan

Shit, Phillip thought. Shit, it’s cold. Phillip couldn’t remember the first week of December ever having been this cold. “Shit,” Phillip said as he slammed the car door and pulled his jacket close and ran up the stairs. I’m late, he thought. Again. “Shit,” he said once more for good measure. He jerked open the door, walked into the kitchen, reached in the refrigerator and uncorked the jug of wine and grabbed a tumbler from the cabinet and filled it and took a swig. “I’m sorry I was l

The next week Phillip and Chloe took their regular Tuesday lunch trip for Chinese. Chloe had discovered the restaurant by chance when looking for a dim sum place one weekend. A hole in the wall dive sandwiched between a Vietnamese grocery and a nail salon. Phillip liked their chow fung. “So are you and Mark doing anything for your birthday?” Chloe asked. “No. He told me he’s scheduled the whole weekend. He tried to get off, but he couldn’t,” Phillip said, frowning. “Oh, that’s too b

The next week, Mark managed to get a long weekend off to make up for the extra hours he’d worked over Thanksgiving. He wanted to watch some big football playoff game on Thursday, so he and Phillip grabbed an early dinner of Mexican food and a couple of six-packs on the way home. They lay stretched out on the sofa with Mark watching the game. Phillip was reading a magazine, only looking up from time to time to see why Mark was yelling at the TV. When he finished the article, he dropped the ma

“So does Scott cook?” Phillip asked into the phone. He was talking to Mark the Monday night before Thanksgiving. Scott and Doug always invited Mark to Thanksgiving dinner, and this year they had included Phillip as well. Phillip was trying to decide whether to cook and bring something, and if so, what. “Some,” he answered. “But I don’t think much. They usually just buy one of those packaged lunches from the cafeteria.” Phillip laughed. “Well then they definitely need something homemade. I

Phillip stood at the front of the church, counting to himself. Three flutes and four clarinets in the front row. Four French Horns, then himself, then Rudy, and then the first row of saxes in the second… “…and so Mike decided to quit his travel agent job and go back to school. He’s going to law school…,” Keith said as he started setting stands in front of the chairs Phillip was arranging. They had both arrived early to help set up for the dress rehearsal. “Oh, that’s good…,” Phillip said a

On a bright Sunday morning, three weeks later, Phillip drove down the street toward the local Metropolitan Community Church. He was surprised at having to park out on the street. Normally when the band rehearsed there, there was no problem finding a parking place. But this morning the lots was completely filled. But then he knew that the church was quite an institution in the city. Who would have guessed that in Dallas, the buckle of the Bible Belt, was the largest gay church in the world? P

White Rock Lake is on the eastern side of Dallas. It had been built around 1910 to provide water for the city, but had been eventually turned into a park, with jogging and cycling trails around its ten mile circumference and sailing and fishing on the lake itself. Recently the trails had been extended seven and a half miles up White Rock creek as well. Phillip loved the place since it was one of the few locations in the city where the trees hadn’t been planted and the water hadn’t been pumped fr

By the end of the week, Chloe thought she would throttle Phillip. On Tuesday, he and Mark had made a dinner date for Friday, and that’s all Phillip had talked about since. She was standing in his office on the afternoon of the big day. “So do you have your menu planned?” she asked. “Just printing off my grocery list now.” Phillip clicked a few more keys and the ink jet printer started clattering. “What are you having?” Phillip reached over and picked up the piece of paper that was ex

The following Monday, Phillip wheeled into a parking space, grabbed his case and ran into the church. The band had been off for three weeks, and he had gotten lazy, so he was off schedule and running late as usual. He flopped down in a pew at the back and put his horn together. When he was finished, he took out a couple of reeds, picked up the used pill bottle, went into the kitchen and filled it with water and dropped the reeds in. He returned, picked up his bassoon, slid his seat strap and bo

The aspect of Phillip’s job that he hated most was trying to satisfy all the competing groups involved in the creation of a training course. When he started his job, Phillip had never expected that it would involve so much manipulation, ego gratification, politics, and just plain ass-kissing. Everyone wanted everything his way. The programmers wanted him to mention every bell and whistle they had coded, no matter how trivial. The training administrators always wanted more chargeable days. The in

Twenty minutes later, Phillip sat at the light, waiting to pull across the street and into his building’s parking lot. After three mugs of coffee, his mood was much improved, and he was singing along loudly with Hall and Oates the radio. He checked the car clock as he watched the cross traffic turn at the corner and head down the entrance ramp to the freeway. The digits had just flipped: 9:20. When the light finally changed, he crossed the street, pulled into the driveway and swerved around t