A quick little poem I wrote that I wanted to share at a queer poetry night and never got a chance to due to rehearsal for another show. It doesn’t seem like a traditional poem but my gut still says it’s poetry. Not bad for a first attempt but the only way i get better is to share it.
Faith is funny.
Faith does not accept sexuality with open arms. Faith hounds sexuality and while it nips at sexuality’s heels we are left to question a God that allows our ankles to bleed from the bite marks.
I question my faith. I ask “God, can I still love you and cock?” And God provides, because he is a good God, with a plethora of gay boys to choose from…who are atheists.
I am satisfied sexually but my holy spirit fades from a burning candle to dripping wax (or cum, if you prefer). Something is lost in the translation between sexual pleasure and spiritual fulfillment.
I make an ultimatum. I will follow my own faith. I will start a church of myself that will pray to God but not be oppressed by his community or by him. After all, any God that demands sacrifice is not all powerful because he should not need my sacrifice, a poor, tiny, sexual being to sustain him.
Just as I can have my cake and eat it too, I can have my God and like cock too. Because we may differ in who we think our God is but we both believe in a higher power. And guess what? Both our versions a higher power are greater than either of us.