Gay in Uganda

Sometimes a poem flows out, and like an egg drops fully formed. One may doubt the beauty, and feel the form incomplete. But the message, that message. Though not well wrapped, in the best sounding words. Though not prettily presented with fork and spoon. Though it invites you to use your hands messily. That message pulls at your heart.

This poem did, coming out like the egg this morning. And I felt I would share it with you all.

Gay in Uganda

Gay in Uganda

is prisoner in prison,

though freedom I’ve tasted and known,

not of the body, but the mind.

No rights the prisoner,

acclaimed less than human,

prisoned to morals' whim,

my humanity questioned, my actions condemned.

Yet freedom’s of the mind,

I sail the skies,

loop the loop in pride,

bathe the light and storm the mountain holds

of happiness and love.

Freedom’s of the mind, love of the spirit,

both I’ve tasted and tested;

Freedom’s of the mind, and I’s free!

©GayUganda 30 Nov. 07

Ode to Poetry?

Poetry’s versatile medium of expression;

the silly to the serious,

the grave to the light,

nonsensical to philosophy;

what a facile expression’s poetry!

The words turn, upside down in meaning,

and motion realises in static lines,

that reminds, like memory, in amber frozen,

yet still evocative and marching

with the very pulse of life.

I had failed, but no longer,

in the fluid medium of poetry I match,

the prose a vast rumbling ocean behind

led by the cutting edge muse of poetry.

Wonderful is life’s pulsing dream,

caressing the mind in the present,

holding budding promise of the future.

Though even the past’s unforgotten

in this ranging medium,

that the very spectrum of rainbow crosses

from the black absence of light,

to the searing brightness of white.

What a medium poetry is;

truly the language of gods and goddesses!

©GayUganda 28 Nov. 07