My sexuality does not define me, what defines me is my wholeness as a person. My sexuality is part of that wholeness and one must not seperate the two. My Erotic Poetry is just that, erotic poetry. It is the truth of my fantasies. Like my social, living with HIV/AIDS, and death poems, I aim to take the reader onto a road of reality, because it is my reality. Even though I may not live my true sexual life like that I write in my erotic poetry, I am taking my reader onto a road that having sexual fantasies is part of life's reality.
Claude Kienhaus, author of "The Politics of Social Representation (p. 25) wrote: "A fantasy is precisely what (I) desire, but not necessarily want to act out..."and John Greyson the Torontorian award-winning film director for Lilies and Zero Patience says: "there is no automatic relation between the images (I write) and the sort of sex (I practice)...indeed there is profound differences between my pornographic fantasies I create/consume and the sexual act (I) perform. For me, writing eroticism and pornographic poetry is my avenue for the practice of safe-sex while living with HIV/AIDS.
-
upon his leather couch
tune into reality TV -
for a night of
maryjanes/porbno films/ mutual masturbation -
and then
kissed the intelligence off again -
no one should carry
inconsistent feelings -
The blond smiles under the pool lights, they move as one,
then seperate. A cue stick connects to the white ball. -
All of a sudden there was a loud crash
I jumped off the bed and landed on my ass -
The joy to become a man -- transitions
As a young maturing boy I awake -
Time to leave small town Catholic hypocrisy
A narrow, straight world with history of abuse and shame -
I was lying in bed, reading a book
Joseph Conrad's ~Heart of Darkness~ -
I prowl the labyrinthine corridors
looking for something, on all the three floors -
The black night has been erased
The grey dawn becomes a sea of blues -
knocking balls
in side pockets -
Whose shafts these are I do not know
Yet they are ready for me to blow. -
To lead me onto the trials of love
Where sweet semen tastes better than white wine -
As I unzip
The jeans -
To fly down the white snow slopes
With his nose -
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