Category Archives: Dan Vera

Great Out Music in D.C.

Himangossbozeman I’ve been meaning to blog about the amazing night of folk music we enjoyed here in Washington on Wednesday night.  Held at Solly’s on U Street and billed as "Out With It – A Night of Out Guys With Guitars" it featured the song stylings (who came up with that phrase?!?!) of Eric Himan, Tom Goss and Jon Bozeman.

We got there about an hour before the upstairs performance space opened and sat at the bar downstairs.  We didn’t know how many folks would show up because it was a Gay folk concert and … well, you know the old saw about "Gay men are only into dance music blah blah blah."  We hadn’t eaten dinner so, while Pete and Lyman drank at the bar, I walked over to a great Peruvian chicken place across the street and grabbed some takeout.  By the time I got back (about 20 minutes) the bar was packed with guys waiting for the concert to start.  They soon opened the doors and we went upstairs for the show.

20070718_jonbozeman Jon Bozeman was up first.  From New York, he’d met Eric Himan at an environmental festival a while back and they, along with Goss, cooked up this idea for a night of Gay male folk music.  Bozeman’s work is just lovely.  His songs have some great wordplay and I especially loved a love song he wrote called "One to One" (on his latest cd).  There was another great "fuck you"-post breakup song called "Take the Best of Me" (I believe that’s the title?)  Bozeman did nice yeoman’s work on a Damian Rice cover before sharing a few more of his own compositions.  These included a clap-along  acapella song titled "Sexy Professor" — written for every cute professor you had in college.  Other songs I enjoyed included "I Can’t Sleep" and the rollicking "To No Conclusions."  Another stand out was a song called "Lonely Drinker" that Bozeman explained was written before he came of age.  In it he imagines what it’d be like to finally gain admission to the bar. I think we’ve all been there before and it was interesting to sort of time travel back to that period.  I can still recall the revelation of my first night at a Gay bar.  It was Whitmanic for me to be surrounded by all these other men just like me.  That seems a million miles away today but Bozeman sparked the memory again with this song from the other side of the entrance doors.

I have to say that I enjoyed every one of these artists but somehow Bozeman was the only one who didn’t leave me wondering about influences.  His voice, which was flawless, is truly his own and I delighted in hearing someone well on his way to creating some great music.  He has two discs out, one a shiny packaged thing for $10 and a great live cd done in consummate DIY style for the bargain price of $5.   I actually picked up the latter because it had that love song that so moved me.

20070718_tomgossAfter a short break Tom Goss got the crowd going again with a lively set of original music and a few covers.  Goss’s guitar work was really impressive and intricately thought out.  The whole set was very high energy and as a performer Goss makes a full body job out of it.  He was dancing as he performed, and although a bit distracting at times, it spoke to the infectious tone of most of his songs.  His sound seems very indebted to Dave Matthews (at least to my ears and my tablemates) and he certainly shares that driving sound in his compositions.   He tended to chat more with the crowd and worked hard to build a connection with the room.  There was an interesting song he riddled the crowd with ("what’s this next song about?  Guess.")  Turns out the song was about wrestling (seems one of the interesting chestnuts about his past, along with seminary training for the Catholic priesthood, was his being a big wrestler.  I very much enjoyed a song he wrote for his once-AWOL brother that turned into a great anti-war, anti-Bush song, (by way of  a defense of his little brother) — "He knows your game is lies."  Other highlights included a song called In the Morning Sun and a song written during his period of celibacy titled (tongue planted firmly in cheek?) "Come Around."

The local mind behind setting this gig up, Goss clearly has the chops for a concert a delicious snarl of a voice.  That said I would’ve appreciated hearing more of his piano based compositions (he sang one piece he described as his "Gay anthem" on a keyboard — a great line: "If the devil’s in each touch, I’ll greet each flame"). 

So far the night was two for two in pure delight.

20070718_erichimanAnd then  Eric Himan took the stage.  He started with a few minutes of a blistering bit of guitar work that just got the crowd going.  I mean it was a nice little rumble, sort of dirty bluesy Claptony riffing that just warned everyone in the audience to prepare for some serious rollicking fun.  He did not let us down.  By way of brief introduction he explained that he’d been touring and doing music for the last 4 1/2 years and he’d always wanted to experience what he had that night.. a room full of Gay men (okay there were a few women but it was like 98% Gay men in the crowd).  He shared that he’d played over the years in Lesbian clubs and at festivals and while the fans were appreciative, the Lesbians would say, "but you’re a guy?" and then he shared the old saw he heard over and over again… how Gay men don’t listen to folk music.  But here he was standing in front of a very large, standing room only crowd of very appreciative hungry Gay men ready for folk music.

What to say about Himan’s set.  He floored us over and over again. Beginning with a great song he said he wrote for all the anti-Gay protestors who show up at all the Pride Festivals he attends.  The piece was so funny and elicited some of the most enthusiastic clapping of the evening.  He told me later it would be on the next cd he’s putting out (Himan puts out a disc a year it seems — he’s that productive!).  He played a very energetic cover of Dolly Parton’s "Jolene" that had the crowd almost singing along in places.  Himan’s influences seem very much in the Tracy Chapman vein.  Something about his playing and singing.  That’s extremely fortunate for his listeners because it puts him on footing to tackle some very difficult material.  He powerfully 20070718_erichiman2 covered Patti Griffin’s song "Tony" in memory of a Gay high school friend who’d committed suicide.  He had a great slow song about weakness — thinking about an ex after you’ve broken up with him.  Another song "White Horse" about friends waiting to be "rescued" by a knight on a white horse.  A very funny song called "Heart Clean" written for guys who don’t get the message when they constantly hit on you in bars.  Then there was the very funny song about falling for Bartenders that had some very witty word play.  There wasn’t a misfire in the entire set.  It was all on and the guitar playing and the singing just perfect.  He gave a great encore in the form of his own recasting of Nina Simone’s "Nobody Wants You When You’re Down & Out."  I love Simone and know that recording very, very well, but I daresay Himan reformats it in a way that leaves it unrecognizable while so very enjoyable.  I would’ve loved to have listened to that take one more time to see what sorcery he’d just done.

A wonderful evening.  May there be many more to come.  Till then, visit their websites, find out when they’re coming to a town near you, visit their myspaces and listen to their music and support them by buying some of their stuff.  Keep the love and good music going.

Websites:

Here’s a Himan Youtube to give you a taste:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=B2hYDI8RAYA

Gay Wisdom – Tongues Untied – 7/18/07

20070717_tonguesuntied_2 On this day in 1991, the groundbreaking film on Black Gay experience, Tongues Untied, was broadcast on national television in the United States.  The director Marlon Riggs stated that the piece was created to

"…shatter the nation’s brutalising silence on matters of sexual and racial difference.  [Tongues Untied] is partly about community-building. It’s an affirmation of some of the things that we as black Gay men take for granted. For example, lots of people snap. They snap on every syllable, and they don’t think about it. You can go from Mississippi to California to New York and this cultural form will be recognized-there will be a response. Some people are ashamed about snap because they look at it and think, ‘Oh, we know he’s a Gay man.’ Yet, snap is also a form of resistance, a form of saying, ‘Yes, I’m different and I’m also proud of it.’"

The national broadcast ignited a firestorm among the conservative Religious Right because of the film’s focus on Gay sexuality and its funding through a National Endowment for the Arts grant.  Jesse Helms railed against the film from the floor of the U.S. Senate mistitling the film "Tongues United." Months later Patrick Buchanan, who was running against the first George Bush for the presidential nomination, cited "Tongues Untied" as an example of how President Bush was using taxpayer’s money to fund "pornographic art."   He featured excerpts from the film in his political campaign commercials, curiously editing out any images of Black Gay men.

The Gay theorist and film critic Vito Russo wrote that "Usually, politically and socially admirable films fall short of the mark in the aesthetics department. They are praised more for their good intentions…Marlon Riggs has created that rarest of birds — a brilliant, innovative work of art that delivers a knock-out political punch."  The film featured poetic and visual segments including the work of Essex Hemphill, Brian Freeman, Joseph Beam and many others. 

The film would go on to win countless awards and accolades including Best Documentary Award at the Berlin International Film Festival, Best Independent Experimental Work by the Los Angeles Film Critics and Best Video at the New York Documentary Film Festival.

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20070717_marlonriggs_2 TODAY’S GAY WISDOM

Today’s Gay Wisdom comes from Marlon Riggs:

"Frankly, with Tongues Untied if white heterosexuals don’t understand the reasons why black people are angry and just consider this piece militant, then so be it. I’m not going to take time to justify this for people for whom this experience is totally alien. Tongues Untied is an affirmation of the feelings and experiences of black Gay men, made for them by a black Gay man, or actually by black Gay men because the piece has a number of voices. If others understand, fine, but making sure everyone understands was not my prerequisite in making this."
— Marlon Riggs

"(The Christian Right says) Bring back the melting pot. Restore ‘traditional values.’ Re-institute prayer in schools. Preserve the primacy of Western civilization (the only one that matters anyway). And not least, protect that critical bedrock of American greatness: ‘the American family’ Such pronouncements reveal an intense, even pathological desire to perpetuate a thoroughly obsolete myth of America, and through this, a repressively orthodox system of sociocultural entitlement."   
— Marlon Riggs

“My struggle has allowed me to transcend that sense of shame and stigma identified with my being a black Gay man. Having come through that fire, they can’t touch me.” – Marlon T. Riggs

Read a great interview with Marlon Riggs titled "Listen to the Heartbeat" here.

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Bill Richardson’s and the Use of Maricon

Some of you may or may not have heard the flap about New Mexico governor Bill Richardson’s using the word "maricon" a few months ago on Don Imus’ show.

The clip is here:

Imus asks Governor Richardson if he agrees that "Bernard," that’s Imus’ sidekick, is a "maricon."  Now Imus knows exactly what he’s doing.  They’re both from the same part of the country and they think they’re having a cool little exchange.  He knows that Richardson knows that maricon means "faggot" in the Spanish they both grew up around.  Imus also knows that most listeners to his show have no idea what the phrase is.  You notice neither of them defines the term for their listening public.  Imus launches the idea and Richardson, you’ll notice he actually jumps at it.  Actually, Richardson goes FURTHER.  Imus just asks Richardson to answer yes or no.  Richardson sort of enjoys saying it, calling Bernardo un maricon.  There is NO hesitation in Richardson’s reply.  I mean he’s not even thinking this is problematic.  Imus and Richardson are playing on a keen perception that most listeners won’t know what the word is.

This would seem to be Richardson’s macaca moment.  He, like Senator Allen, knew they were hurling an epithet.  But frankly, in my opinion Richardson’s is probably worse.  Because Allen was using a very obscure phrase while Richardson was using a term that anyone who grew up speaking Spanish recognizes it for what it is.  I am pretty sure that people have died for using that term of disparagement.  That people have had their masculinity challenged with that term or killed people for being "un maricon."

Richardson’s non-apology just exacerbates the situation. He claimed that when he was growing up the term "maricon" was a neutral term, not good or bad, it just meant "gay."  This is such bullshit it staggers the senses.

Now I’ve been assured that Richardson has a great track record on LGBT rights.  All I’ve heard in detail is that he added gay and lesbian and transgender to the Hate Crimes bill in New Mexico.  All well and good.  [Although may I add that if *that’s* your great accomplishment for LGBT rights, — the ability to have our murders by haters labeled for what they are — than the bar is set really, really, really low in this country].

There are some gay Latino bloggers writing about this and hopefully this will get the coverage it deserves.  Because so far, it seems the humanity of gay people seems pretty low on the totem pole in this whole sad exchange.  It hasn’t received much press at all.

Can I also express how personally wounding it is that the first Latino politician of some stature, a credible (if not financially viable) candidate for the presidency has to reveal himself to be so grossly out of touch to find this acceptable.  I haven’t felt this distressed and disgusted since Alberto Gonzalez was trotted out as the "First Latino/Hispanic Attorney General."  Double Sigh.

Gay Wisdom – Arenas, Antinous & Kushner

Arenas1Gay Wisdom – Arenas, Antinous & Kushner

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

Today is the birthday of Emperor Hadrian’s great love Antinous (110).

Today is also the birthday of Cuban poet, novelist & memoirist Reinaldo Arenas (July 16, 1943 – December 7, 1990.  Most known for his memoir Before Night Falls, about his childhood and life in Cuba, Arenas was also the author of over twenty books including his Pentagonia, a series of books detailing the secret history of post-revolutionary Cuba.  He emigrated to the United States in 1980 during the Mariel boatlife and lived in Miami for a short time before settling permanently in New York City.

Today is also the birthday of the great playwright Tony Kushner (1956) playwright Angels In America series.

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TODAY’S GAY WISDOM

Today’s gay wisdom comes from Tony Kushner and Reinaldo Arenas:

"Mine is not an obedient writing. I think that literature as any art has to be irreverent.  And in a totalitarian system irreverence is punished."  Reinaldo Arenas

"Now, needless to say, after ten years, I have realised that an exile has no place anywhere, because there is no place, because the place where we started to dream, where we discovered the natural world around us, read our first book, loved for the first time, is a ghost, the shadow of someone who never achieves full reality. I ceased to exist when I went into exile; I started to run away from myself."    Reinaldo Arenas, Before Night Falls

"Well, I write and survive.  I am a dissident." – Reinaldo Arenas

Here’s a great little film featuring Reinaldo Arenas and those who knew him.

This disease will be the end of many of us, but not nearly all.  And the dead will be commemorated, and we’ll struggle on with the living. And we are not going away.  We won’t die secret deaths anymore..  The world only spins forward.  We will be citizens.  The time has come.
Bye now.  You are fabulous each and everyone.  And I bless you.  More life. The great work begins.
Tony Kushner, Angels In America Part II – Perestroika

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WC73 Opening Words

Opening Words from the Editors73openingwords_2

“Friends are God’s apology for family” has more meaning, deeper meaning for Gay men than for most people. And despite what some may insist, I can’t help but believe that the word has a very different meaning for Gay people than for anyone else. For us, the nuance of meaning when we refer to someone as “my friend” often means we’re covering a deeper relationship. That person might also be my lover, but circumstances demand a lighter deception. Churches have long forbidden “special friends” for the same reason.
For many of us our “family of choice” is our circle of friends, or as Harry Hay called them, our “circle of loving companions.” Friends are those people who we want to be around for those special occasions in our lives, the celebrations as well as the small, intimate moments. The ones we’ve all gossiped with, confided in, consoled and for too many of us, buried. For a generation of Gay men, “friends” is inextricably connected, now, to death and dying. For some of us, every friend we had at some point in our lives is now gone.
There are so many kinds of friends: best friends, work friends, workout buddies, fuck buddies, close friends, casual friends, friends of friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends, new friends, false friends and lost friends…
For many years I was on a search to find my “best friend” from high school, the one with whom I lost touch when I came out. Concurrent with that, I always wanted to find, and confess to, my girlfriend from that same period. Oddly, I was in love with both of them, and never had sex with or made love to either of them. I looked and looked for Mike, and finally he found me! Thirty years missing between us, and the phone rings, I pick up, a voice asks for me, and I know in an instant that it’s Mike. The first thing out of his mouth was an apology for how he had treated me, the mean things he had said to me, thirty years before. Nothing ever felt so good…and I demurred and we moved on, into a renewed friendship that felt like we had never stopped. He died last year of cancer. An old friend…one who I would have died for at one point in my life…gone now. A hole in my own life that I am reminded of every day.

I needed to find Carol because when I broke up with her, I didn’t have much in the way of self awareness. I just knew I wasn’t ever going to want to have sex, make love…and I loved her. So I had to leave. She even asked me, point blank at one point in the conversation, “Are you gay?” This was 1969! And, oddly, I think she even said “gay.” At least that’s how I remember it. I denied it, of course. And that’s why I needed to find her. I needed to confess…let her know she was right, not crazy. I was gay. The old “It’s not you, it’s me.” It’s not you…I’m gay. But I didn’t have the guts. Or the knowledge, or probably even the word, at that time, to own up. When I first found her (because of Mike’s help, I might add) she was understandably wary (and married). She said she’d have to tell her husband I had contacted her. I said fine. I told her the reason I had looked for her for thirty years…and I think she got to finally have a release in some way. She wasn’t crazy. In fact she was as aware as anyone could have hoped to be at that time. I wanted…what? Not to apologize. I wasn’t sorry I was gay. I was sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell her the truth even when she asked for it. We’re both close, again, now. We speak almost daily, on line or by phone. I will attend her daughter’s wedding this fall. The richness of having this old friend in my life…all the more poignant now with Mike gone…is beyond my ability to convey. I love this woman, and I know she loves me.

These are the things you go through with, for, friends. This is what “friends” means. These are the people with whom it is necessary to go through all the universe of feelings and to find your way back home; there’s no place like friends.

White Crane got its beginnings in friendships. Bob Barzan circulated the first edition of the Journal to a few of his friends who had been gathering in his home for months in talking circles. In many ways, while we are attempting to grow it and ensure its survival, it remains a labor of love among friends, passed from hand to hand, from Bob to Toby to Bo to Dan over the past eighteen years. To this day no one is paid for the work involved. If I could offer one more definition of the term, “friends” are the people who do the work whether you can pay them for it or not.

We have sociologist Peter Nardi in this issue. Sociologists like to categorize and sort…and Dr. Nardi is no exception. Dr. Nardi offers a chart of friendships, but I wonder just how quantifiable, much less chartable “friends” can be beyond a certain point? How many of us have circles of friends that began in bed? How can that not be different from the friends our heterosexual brethren make? Not better, but different. How can a friend with whom you have made love, not be a different thing? How does that get reflected adequately in a flow chart?

“Friends” has a special meaning, of course, for me, now. When Toby told me he was ready to step down as publisher, I knew that if I was going to carry this project forward and grow it into what I knew it could be I would need help. I was going to need a friend. I met Dan in Harry Hay’s workshops, as anyone who has been reading this magazine for any length of time would remember, and I had a hunch. He had come to visit, in his capacity of doing the Reconciliation work with the United Methodist Church, and without trying to seem too anxious, I suggested that maybe he might find working on White Crane of some interest. I couldn’t pay him anything, of course, but given his background and his interests, I thought maybe…and I was just this side of begging him, because, man, I knew I was going to need someone.

And of course, as anyone who has been reading this journal in the past three years has noticed, that someone was probably one of the best, if not the best decision I ever made with respect to this magazine and White Crane as an idea. That’s usually what I tell people when I talk about Dan. That and the fact that the friendship that grew out of this shared project has become almost like having a second husband. It is like a marriage in a way. It is surely one of the profound and primary relationships of my life, and, I would hazard to venture, Dan’s too. And it isn’t very often you get to hold something tangible in your hands that is a symbol, an emblem of an idea, in this case, “friends,” but that’s what this magazine in your hands is…a tangible result of a friendship. Work and schedules conspired to make the usual “Editor’s Chat” un-doable for this issue, which is strange, as our friendship is at the heart of this. But if anything, it gives me the opportunity to say these things in print. Chart that.

Over the years we’ve continued to grow the magazine, and create White Crane Institute and none of it would have been possible without friends, old ones, and new ones.

There are some truly beautiful pieces in this issue. We hope, as always, and as we have from the start, that you share it with a friend.

This is just an excerpt from this issue of White Crane.   We are a reader-supported journal and need you to subscribe to keep this conversation going.  So to read more from this wonderful issue SUBSCRIBE to White Crane. Thanks!

Bo Young and Dan Vera are editorials mid-wives and co-conspirators in creating each issue of White Crane.
Bo lives in Brooklyn, NY a few blocks from a museum and Dan lives in Washington, DC a few blocks from a Shrine.
Bo is the author of First Touch: A Passion for Men and Day Trilogy and Other Poems.
Dan is the author of two chapbooks of poetry, Crespuscalario and Seven Steps Up

If they sometimes seem interchangeable in the minds of White Crane readers it’s because they talk on the phone each day and bask under the shade of the same growing tree, the watering of which they consider their contribution to the continued flowering of gaiety.

You can write them at editors@gaywisdom.org

WC73 Review of On The Tongue

73rvu_jeffmannBook Review
On the Tongue
Poems by Jeff Mann
Gival Press, 94 pages, $15.00
ISBN-10: 1928589359

Reviewed by Dan Vera

Readers of Jeff Mann’s last book, his part memoir/part poetry book Loving Mountains, Loving Men have cause for great celebration.  If you were enraptured by  his prose writing, with the way it revealed Mann’s generous heart, yet felt you wanted more of his distilled poetic voice, his new book will put a huge grin on your face. 

Mann, who teaches at Virginia Tech and won the 2007 Lambda Literary Award for his History of Barbed Wire, has here produced a work of such open-hearted capability.  Many of these poems are just staggeringly good.  In his capable and goodly hands, the scarred arm of a bartender becomes a thing of beauty and the act of loving becomes the union of tree and earth.

One of the assuring blurbs in this book calls Mann the “Sappho of Appalachia.”  High praise indeed, but with Sappho we are left with small fragments.  Mann’s work is fully, pleasurably revealed on the page.  There is no guessing left to the eye or mind and the reader is allowed to join him in celebrating the enduring beauty of the male form.  Reading Mann’s naturalistic evocations of the body of the beloved put me to mind of Pablo Neruda’s swelling love poetry in his Captain’s Verses or Audre Lorde’s sultry lover poems.  These are clear, direct gazes at the lover that become meditations on the merging of human bodies as elemental, geological, and seismic encounters.

This book is nothing less than a breakthrough.  I found myself feeling pride at reading such a masterful collection of gay poems, at the sense that we’d finally reached a moment where our poets could write the truth that has so long been withheld.  Two centuries ago, one of our proto-gay forebears,  Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, argued that gay love is natural because it exists in nature.  For Mann, it is nature itself.

Sup these poems.

This is just an excerpt from this issue of White Crane.   We are a reader-supported journal and need you to subscribe to keep this conversation going.  So to read more from this wonderful issue SUBSCRIBE to White Crane. Thanks!

Dan Vera is managing editor of White Crane.  A poet and writer in Washington, DC, he can be reached via dan@gaywisdom.org or at www.danvera.com

The Capitol Hill Crunch…

…Of Rightwing Nutbars

In the off chance you’ve been lulled into forgetting about the atomic level nutbars out there, please check out this video of a press conference held on Capitol Hill yesterday. Hats off to People For The American Way’s Right Wing Watch for recording this and disseminating this.

These guys are more fixated on gay sex then most gay guys I know.  And the one minister who cites a laundry list of intra-species sex partners seems to be revealing alot about his own sick twisted subconscious.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the grass they were all standing on was withered and dead after they were finished.

Gay Wisdom – Thoreau

20070712_thoreau

Today is the birthday of naturalist and transcendentalist writer Henry David Thoreau (born 1817).  Famous for his writings Walden and Civil Disobedience, historians such as Jonathan Ned Katz have written about Thoreau’s deep attachments to male friends throughout his life. 

Like Whitman and Emerson, much of Thoreau’s meditations on the higher meaning of male friendships can be found in his writing, specifically Thoreau’s notebooks which he kept throughout his life.

From Thoreau’s Notebooks:

[Nov. 5, 1839]
These young buds of manhood in the streets are like buttercups in the meadows, —surrendered to nature as they.

On June 17, 1839, Edmund Sewall of Scituate visited Concord for a week. After five days of sailing and hiking with Edmund, the twenty-two-year- old Thoreau fell in love with him, writing in his journal:

[June 22, 1839] Saturday. I have within the last few days come into contact with a pure, uncompromising spirit, that is somewhere wandering in the atmosphere, but settles not positively anywhere. . . . Such [spirits] it is impossible not to love; still is their loveliness, as it were, independent of them, so that you seem not to lose it when they are absent, for when they are near it is like an invisible presence which attends you.

Two days later, after Edmund’s departure, Thoreau writes a love poem.

[June 24, 1839]
 
Sympathy
 
Lately, alas, I knew a gentle boy,
Whose features all were cast in Virtue’s mould,
As one she had designed for Beauty’s toy,
But after manned him for her own stronghold.
On every side he open was as day,
That you might see no lack of strength within,
For walls and ports do only serve alway
For a pretense to feebleness and sin.
Say not that Caesar was victorious,
With toil and strife who stormed the House of Fame,
In other sense this youth was glorious,
Himself a kingdom wheresoe’er he came.
No strength went out to get him victory,
When all was income of its own accord;
For where he went none other was to see,
But all were parcel of their noble lord.
He forayed like the subtile haze of summer,
That stilly shows fresh landscapes to our eyes,
And revolutions works without a murmur,
Or rustling of a leaf beneath the skies..
So was I taken unawares by this,
I quite forgot my homage to confess;
Yet now am forced to know, though hard it is,
I might have loved him had I loved him less.
Each moment as we nearer drew to each,
A stern respect withheld us farther yet,
So that we seemed beyond each other’s reach,
And less acquainted than when first we met.
We two were one while we did sympathize,
So could we not the simplest bargain drive;
And what avails it now that we are wise,
If absence doth this doubleness contrive?
Eternity may not the chance repeat,
But I must tread my single way alone,
In sad remembrance that we once did meet,
And know that bliss irrevocably gone.
The spheres henceforth my elegy shall sing,
For elegy has other subject none;
Each strain of music in my ears shall ring
Knell of departure from that other one.
Make haste and celebrate my tragedy;
With fitting strain resound ye woods and fields;
Sorrow is dearer in such case to me
Than all the joys other occasion yields.
_______________________
Is’t then too late the damage to repair?
Distance, forsooth, from my weak grasp hath reft
The empty husk, and clutched the useless tare,
But in my hands the wheat and kernel left.
If I but love that virtue which he is,
Though it be scented in the morning air,
Still shall we be truest acquaintances,
Nor mortals know a sympathy more rare.
 
from Jonathan Ned Katz’s Gay American History, Meridian, 1992. pp. 481-494

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