Guest Room 3
Scared and isloated, I came looking for you,
Looking for your support, to cure me of this blue.
Hoping love and acceptance I would find,
Your ears were suddeny deaf, your eyes were blind.
I needed you to love me, I wanted you to see,
How many times I asked god, "What is wrong with me?"
Count with me the tears I laid here and cried,
I tried to tell you it wasn't true, but I only lied.
Why did you desert me, why leave me all alone?
You left me in the streets, in my lifestyle I found a home.
I'm your flesh and blood, through you I did live,
All I wanted was your love, was that too much to give?
But its all said and done now, you chose to send me away,
Even though you hate me, I'll think of you every day.
What little I get to hear you say, is bitter, and so cold,
But at least you now know me, the story has been told.
I am your son, daughter, niece, nephew, or maybe even brother,
I may be your cousin, aunt, uncle, sister, father or mother.
No matter who I am, listen to the words I am going to say,
Do I have to lose your love and support just because I'm gay?
Biographical Comments: I know this poem is a bit controversial for the Cabin, but it expresses what a lot of gay people, including myself, have went through. It was a painful experience to actually sit down and write this, but it if helps just one family member or friend of a gay person to understand what its like to lose them, then it will have been worth my personal pain. I always welcome opinions on my work, be they good or bad, so I hope to hear from some of you all!
By: Barry Vincent
Silence is an artful creature
Adept and masterly sublime,
It neither pleads its innocence
Nor confesses to the crime.
The deafening sound of silence
Is a weapon so unique,
It cannot be defended
Until you hear it speak.
So many times have you been baffled
Beyond the realms of science,
Whenever you've come up against
That dreaded 'Wall of silence'.
An answer, plainly spoken
Your question would appease,
But the deadliness of silence
Would bring you to your knees.
Speak, speak you say
Acknowledge my plaintive cries,
For silence is the teller
Of the cruellest lies.
Biographical Comments: How many ways there are to interpret silence...I wrote this when e-mail was a bit thin on the ground between me and some friends who correspond regularly...somehow I got the negative aspect...
By: Eric (EJ) Sheely
Tonight I thought about Eve
Walking through God's garden towards the tree
And biting into the apple given
Green and luscious and sour as early grapes
God was smart to have given the apple
To Adam first, to have allowed testosterone to shape
The world through jagged eyes of hatred
And greed, sated with his own son's blood
A world shaped by women would have no walls
No automobiles or commuter trains to crash
No relationships to rot and sour on the vine
No God to keep order, to repress, and destroy
Women would not sacrifice their lovers and children
Their breasts and their womb
The warmth of summer and color of fall
For gold and silver coins
They know, all too well that God's sandals
Trample the ground below them, never leaving marks
In the place where the fruit of eternal knowledge grows
We are all just specks of dirt in a garden full of stars.
Biographical Comments: Writer and Poet in Phoenix, Az currently working on two books of poetry, and possibly a novel.
By: Bud Forrest
Way down we go in
the ride of life
With trouble and
strife both a like
We toss and
turn in life's ways
Yet we dance like it
will never fade
Dreams make man
change ideals for ideas
Exchange is man made
in thoughts of ideal
What runs thru man's
mind, Is felt by us
Planning life in a
form that is a must
Forsaking a reality,
For only a thought
Chasing the dreams
that they bought
What foolishness we
follow for naught
that we were all taught
God is waiting for us
By: Bud Forrest
It churns the thoughts in dreams
It moves the thoughts in wonder
It holds the wish as an after thought
The reason is never found as a choice
Yet the dream never dies in wonder
Only a feeling finds the reason why
That holds the unavoidable quest
Which knows that one must die.
Born a baby you cry
for the knowledge
to save your soul
you learn why.
Then you cry
What We Grow
By: Bud Forrest
Let us remember all the ways
memories shape of the past.
Which linger in the rapture
of our lives,When we lived
as man and wife.
Troubles carried us thru its
ways,Beckoning us as a rule.
Funny how it changed as we
grew,Clinging to one another
so the shadow did not grow.
Life gave samples in which
we shared.we count them all.
But never in pairs.One by one
they came,as we pleased.For
ten was enought to squeeze.
Learning is a task in it self
yet teaching,Strives in how,
not in why.Only the wishing
is the easy life.For then we
would miss all your mistakes.
Love is like a garden,We tend
what we grow.We cull them slow
it is a shame to see them grow.
For we will plant no more.
Now we see our sorrow grow.
We kindle our love in them
to shape,not to pretend.
For what other reason could
that be,had we not loved them
then we care not what they be.
A reason why,That we try.Leaves
not wisdom said,Like hand and
hand we all grasped not the ring.
But love that will be lost as we
all leave.As no family is the same.
2:39 PM 11/2/96