GAY PEOPLE HAVE MAGICAL POWERS: THEY CAN CONTROL THE WEATHER

 ‘…that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights.’ (Genesis 5:32-10:1, New International Version)

Dear David Silvester,

Hi. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. But what I do know is that you have the most bizarre idea of how the natural world fundamentally works. I am of course referring to the weather. It has come to my knowledge that you have reason to believe that the recent series of flooding in the UK are the result of the nation legalising Gay Marriage.

Oh, how insightful you are!

Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure that Jesus’ dad already sent a flood thousands of years ago because Noah and his pals simply weren't ’doing life right’ (source: not The Bible). If my primary school R.E. education was accurate, back in the days before the modern phenomenon of twerking, there was no big booming cloud that shrieked:

'WHAT?! YOU’RE TRYING TO GIVE EACH OTHER EQUAL RIGHTS? I HOPE YOU CAN SWIM BITCHEZ BECAUSE I AM GOING TO DROWN ALL DA HUMANZ’

How queer!

Everyone knows that God flooded the world because his laptop software crashed and he had to re-boot his hard-drive system*…

Mr Silvester, what are you doing? What are you saying? You simply cannot pin the disastrous results from a natural change in the Earth’s climate (‘Global Warming’, I think it’s called) on… Love. I mean, of course people constantly write about the power of this potent force, but let me tell you, in the words of Lindsay:

‘Wrong, you’re so wrong’.

How can you possibly blame a splash of rain on same-sex marriage? Did you never watch The Day After Tomorrow?!  I can only think that the motive behind your controversial, insane and highly incorrect statement is that you, sir, are a misinformed moron (or that you don’t own a DVD player).

Call me hypocritical, but by acclaiming such a ridiculous statement, you have insulted pretty much the entire cast of Glee and THE HUMAN RACE IN GENERAL. You are stripping people of their rights and their lives. Who are you to point the finger about what causes the weather? Do you were sensible shoes and grey suit-pants and stand in front of a green screen, telling people whether they should take an umbrella to work or not tomorrow? No. Is it your job to conjure up random reasons for temperamental weather that Great Britain is shamelessly renowned for? No. 'Do you even go here?' Still, no.

Therefore, here is my suggestion: why don’t you take your homophobic, misinformed, disgusting ideologies and shove them up your unjust and I suppose wrinkled ass—

Perhaps there is another reason. I have looked into this, and recent studies show that the real cause for floods and extreme weather is not people of the same-sex loving one another; it is not the work of Miley Cyrus’ forked tongue; it is not the witch-craft of the feminists of Leeds University. It is the ignorance, negativity and bigotry of this world that accumulates in narrow-minded politicians like you! Such idiotic views make me sick to the stomach and quite frankly, it is because of people like you that so many have been and still are repressed, depressed, silenced and worst of all, denied of their true identities and abilities to express themselves for who they are: human.

Do you honestly think that God cares about whether a man loves another man, or a woman loves another woman? This is 2014 – 

Honestly, Mr Silvester, sometimes I wonder if you even considered the logistics of the situation on Noah’s ark. He gathered two by two of every animal… Unless he had extremely keen gaydar that was finely tuned for the sexual preferences of animals, how did he know if he had picked up two straight animals and if they were of different genders? The man was over 600 years old, how was he to know?* And now, before I go on, I hear you smirk:

‘A homosexual animal? How absurd and utterly impossible.’

Well, allow me to shock you as you sip your Earl Grey from that china antique – the sexually liberal dolphin, dominating lion and daring dragonfly species are all known for being ‘a little bit gay’ and so there is no way of knowing if this sort of hanky-panky did or did not occur on the ark. I’m not insinuating that Noah’s ark was some sort of animal sex-den, but this insight has opened a few doors…

Regardless, gay animals, humans, bendy rulers, Sarah Jessica Parker's mole, ARE PEOPLE TOO and are not to blame for the changing weather cycles. I know that it’s easy to shift the blame when you’re running late for work on a Monday morning, you've spilt coffee down your new slacks and now the bloody rain is pelting it down, but it is NEVER OK to make such ridiculous accusations.

Please re-evaluate your life and remember this: it is literally impossible for the LGBT community to be held responsible for the UK’s flooding – their emblem is a colourful rainbow representing the celebratory calm after the harsh, gruelling storm of injustice. We are fighting hard for equality and you are setting us back. The only accusation of same-sex marriage I hope to see is of abnormal sunny spells in Britain, as I’m sure it is written in the Bible somewhere that Love can only cause eternal sunshine...

The storm clouds of hate are clearing. We’re nearly there. The future is bright.

Sincerely,

King Lion AKA Jaguar the Lion.

*disclaimer: Some information here may or may not be true. I am trying to be comical, not insulting. I apologise if I offend anyone unintentionally in this post.



Copyright © JRFB 2013

Photosynthesis

(sun, water, air - will cultivate any monstrosity from above)

The Sun shined - the Air stirred - the Rain poured.
You smiled, I smiled, we blossomed: Love.
But the winds of Time blew your petals -
Away from me.
Your coarse hands planted a seed in my soul -
It bobbed, red and swelling in the endless streams of my blood
Reflecting the ethereal memories of your Light,
Like a bulging eye directly through my skin.

Anchored stiffly, deeply in my chest,
It grew sideways - lodged like a stone in my heart.
Watered by the greyest tears from my darkest eyes
It split its skin when limbs appeared
Jolting my Heartstrings -
Jabbing my inner wires -
As it curled round the coils of my brain.

There, that demon took full form -
With prickling petals,
And blades for thorns,
Which cut my choking lungs  
- There my funeral had blossomed -
Shrouded by flowers of death.

My psyche had been usurped
And my soul, corrupted - 
Dictating me to believe 
That you were mine.
That you loved me.
That this cancer deep in my heart was 
Love.

When your soul brushed passed mine
Just the other day
As the Sun was setting -
Suddenly the light turned black;
My raw heart bled;
My weak skull split;
My keen eyes failed;

And my soul lay twisted in the ground
As your roots crawled out -
And the Sun was slowing down
When my broken eyes found you then
I had died inside -
Only to discover that (from the time that the Sun had risen)
I was already dead -


Copyright © JRFB 2013

I loved you today

I loved you today -

unlike yesterday

when your senselessness

clawed at my heart.

I loved you today -

not like the other days

for you showed me that you

cared.

I loved you today -

because although I could not see

you, I felt your heart

beat in time with mine.

I loved you today -

and I will until

the rays of tomorrow

pierce this fragile light 

as weightless as the winds of time-

and again, my heart, stifled, 

is choked,

chained

by your Love

Tonight.

Copyright © JRFB 2013

Miss Scorpio

She loves and loves but is not loved. For she is barren of the fertile fields to grow a child. All she wanted was to be allowed to love. But we always strive to do what is forbidden. And here it is: the rotten fruit of impoverished love.

The sky was black as charcoal pits, dusted with speckled stars

Ashen grey surrounds the land

Smothered with burning flowers.

The time when clouds shrivel away

When the Sun makes her bed

At the end of the day –

The Moon himself appears with Hope,

Of meeting his Love

Who sets the distant pole -

Where their love can never be found

For distance - darkness forbid it

And they are not Fated to be bound.

The time when Light-time creatures stop;

And Night-time villains stir

And children drift, still in their beds, like sweet little corpses.

Now a twisted dark shadow creeps from her hollow home,

Uncurling her limbs, unfolding her bones,

Like spindly branches against the yellow Moon’s glow.

She gasps a worn breath –

For she is alone.

Miss Scorpio is always alone – even past death –

From the moment she burst forth from the fiery pits below

Forming a woman in thin, black dress with lace like a spider’s webs,

She was alone.

But oh, how she despises having nobody to care

Nobody to hold, nobody to tend to,

Leaving her an empty phantom, wretched, torn, bare.

Every day is hell, every second, misery;

Yet it is all made lighter by the Moon

Who shines over her fears and wishes, eagerly.

He is her ambient Hope.

The Light deep beneath her blackened spirit.

That can never escape the prison where she chokes.

The Moon too is lost in despair,

But shines brightly each dark night

In false Hope and care.

Miss Scorpio plucks a star from the glistening skies

Where stars shine like jewels, mockingly with their togetherness.

She smothers its brightness; in her frail arms it lies;

Momentarily, the brimstone in her core rekindles,

There is a quiescent crispness in the air

As she smiles, skips, glows like a candle

Not caring for her life that burns away

With each hour that passes,

For she has found something to love! Just for one day -

Until that star quickly fades, from white to orange, to dull brown

Then to black, like the two charred, bottomless holes in her sockets.

The heat cools, her trembling arms release the star, her face twists into a frown

Hot tears streak down her dirt-speckled cheek

Scarring her dark and beautiful features

With deep channels, now trickling red down to her feet.

Says she: ‘This pain is slight,

‘Compared with the jolt that forever thumps my core’.

Now, the black ball of dimpled rock takes flight

Down from her body, frozen, scored, wild

Leaving her numb Soul barren, untouched,

Having held that dimming star, cradled like a child.

But Hope is the fuel for any fire.

Miss Scorpio – Nature's Widow –

Never did her efforts to love expire:

Miss Scorpio once walked in the Midnight Meadow

Stopped, picked a flower from the dark fields of green,

Shaking it with joy, as the wind sped her on with each blow

And she ran through the grove

With this new Heart’s desire towards the rays of tomorrow.

For it is so beautiful to have something to love –

But soon, the nodding flower’s petals

Dropped out one by one, escaping her desperate clutches in the cold breeze

Leaving a grey stalk, bent like soft metal

Flying this way and that as they fell

In wispy circles, through dark clouds

Flying to another part of hell.

Miss Scorpio’s Soul bleeds

As her red tears slowly streak down her dark dress

Down like a deadly bullet surpassing time itself, as it speeds

Through a hard granite chest

Containing the Treasures of Life,

Repelled, ricocheted, is forced down to a grim death.

*

*

*

Miss Scorpio is still waiting for Life to start

For a fraction of joy, for a sign from above, –

As her dark Soul will never rest until it possesses a Heart.

 

Copyright © JRFB 2013

Hope

She would awake every morn

Eyes flashing bright as golden corn,

Hearts pulsing; blood freezing;

Breathing accelerates -

When he passes by:

The One whose skin

Glistens as his smile brightens the Earth,

When darkness slowly pines away

As spells of sun step slowly out

Leaving behind trails of Hope.

The One whose eyes bring life

To starry seeds under pure pools of light.

His soul chases away the night,

And every head turns to see

His exquisite beauty.

Inhaling the sweet scent of youthful love

Reaching for those fine feathery limbs,

Hoping that he might notice her bright face from above

As he passes by.

Light fades - Evening comes -

Still his distant light fails to reach her.

Sorrow fills her heart-stems,

Choking her racing soul.

The light passes her by,

Leaving her barren - her heart left to crack -

Her slender, pale body bends in the blowing breezes

Beating her thin green dress.

Her eyes, now charred, crazed, bleached-black

(From the Sun's hateful glare)

No longer keenly watch her love's movement:

East       to      West -

And the once golden-jasper strands of hair

Which flowed loyally in the fresh air

Now hang limp, rigid, frayed,

Like a knotted noose

Over her slumping shoulders.

Her roots unravel - the green veil falls -

Over her boney stalk – petals with red-tinged tears -

As the Sunflower's journey ends

As the Sun makes his final bed.

(This poem was inspired by Blake's poem 'Ah! Sunflower'.)

Copyright © JRFB 2013

Free - Love - Lost -

The words are relentless.
Facts devastate the Mourning's crop of New Love
Free - Love - Lost -
In different worlds you would be mine
Our hearts entwined together in time
And I would cherish your exquisite light
And I would kiss your violet rays
And hold you tight
And I would touch your inner soul
And raise your heart to the highest point -

I will love you everyday
Absorb your soul in every way

I will keep you mine in love
Like the tawny lioness holds her cubs
So you will remain to me -
A secret love, only for me to see




Copyright © JRFB 2013

Moonboy

As the Sky-dwellers climb wearily through the golden gates of puffing clouds, Almighty Nyame winks his gleaming right eye and the world grows dark: the sun is setting. His left eye opens wide: a beaming bright circle in the charcoal sky emerges. This source of light hardens from a pale slither to a deep yellow orb, smiling at the patient ground below.

It is at this time, when the soaring birds sleep and the parted clouds disperse, that the Moon-worshippers arrive wearing midnight blue masks with glinting flecks of gold that dance in the light. They place polished stones and shards of flint in a perfect circle with a smoky fire in the middle, under the cold shadow cast by the Moon. Boys in blue and gold robes begin a slow drumming as the griot enters the circle:

“Tonight is the night of the Full Moon.  Let me tell you a story…”

Still with their masks on, the Moon worshippers begin to sing and hum while the griot paces and prances in the organic circle of holy rocks. He begins:

With a wink, the Sky Lord’s eye is turned

And the Sun’s rays slowly cease to burn.
The land grows dark, the light runs thin;

For at night, a serious matter lies within….

Moonboy walks alone in his golden mask

Adorned with gold and painted parts.

His movement is brisk, slow, tall, long,

His voice, so graceful, he sings his sad song –

The Luna dance which calls on the Moon

Asking the gods for blessings soon

On this clear, cool, crisp night

To open his soul, deep and bright…

With a sigh his breath flees his shell

And wisps this way, that way, soon to dwell

Up in the sky, breathing new air,

Seemingly content, holding no cares.

He becomes the Moon, shining his great light,

Beaming full, gazing at the sight

Of his people below sending such love,

Yet something is missing in his life above:

Bright yes, and forever glowing full,

The Moon’s calm mind will never dull.

The light he promises will always shine,

“But I need a companion, to call mine.

For you, my friends, I'm proud to call my own,

But I lack a partner, where true love can grow –

In my bold heart, which seems so kind,

Where love’s own faults may leave me blind.

Oh Nyame, my lord, grant my wish!

I serve so loyally, your feet I kiss –

So please, oh Father, give my heart joy

And end my suffering by one divine ploy.”

And that night, oh, how Moonboy cried,

Adding waters to the oceans, now undried.

Our hearts broke for his sad tale,

But what could we do? Mere mortals fail…

With a downcast face, and tear-stained eyes,

Moonboy tried to hold his ties

To heaven above, now starless and lighter

But Moonboy only held on tighter.

His piercing scream of grieving sorrow

Echoed from night until the morrow,

When divine Nyame began to shift his vision

And the Moon was caught in this division:

The Sun, so radiant, gleaming crimson red

Arose, still weary from her golden bed;

Bemused, she sees the forlorn white beast

And wonders why he’s here, floating in the East.

Unseen, she swiftly hides behind him

Causing the world’s light to grow dim,

As her curious acts of wonder

Leave us down here now to ponder

How this glorious and bedazzling meeting

Is possible, real, without cheating.

For it must be the doing of the gods                           

Watching proud, as their son no longer sobs.

He sees her light, hot yellow with lightening,

And cannot stop himself from fighting

With his conscious thoughts of love

Was this blessing sent from Above?

Never had he seen such aura

Of exquisite beauty, in his corner.

Smiling, beaming, he is Home

Finally, he does not feel alone.

She shyly shines when she sees

His love for her burning through the trees,

Over hills, in the Earth and skies

Her heart flutters in surprise –

Their soft eyes meet and brightness bounces

From their hearts, the light renounces;

For, having been so intimate, so near,

The time has come to return the sphere

Back to sleep, back to the eye,

Leaving Moonboy alone to cry

Tears still hot from Sun’s warm light

Soon hardening, cool in Earth’s sad night.

“Oh Sun, don’t leave, I love you so!

With you I'm free, my body is whole –

Your breath, your light, you fertile rays

Nourish my lost heart in this lonesome haze.”

With that, the Moon, his heart so splintered,

Began to fade, Summer turning to Winter –

Having lost his beaming yellow soul,

Now remains a wisp of light in the cold.

A line of pale light blends in the sky,

The Earth-dwellers often wonder why

The beautiful circle of pure light

Has gone to bed, little by little, tonight.

The Moon-worshippers wail in terror at the tragic tale of Moonboy's lost light. Their chants and cries drift through the sky, kindling Nyame the sky god with the same cares. He thunders and the ground grows wet, the soil, once pale from the Moonlight now is darker than night.

Moonboy awakens from a sad sleep, and sparkling with delight, he shouts blessings from above to his faithful worshippers, “When my blue light had scattered into cool night, your cries and prayers roused my shattered soul!” And gradually, the Moon began regaining his strength – his dimmed inner light became illuminated from the spirit of the people. 

Night by night, the Moon emerged into the dark night sky, averting attention from the spotted stars until on the thirtieth night he was whole again, his heart was restored and his hope renewed.

From that night, Moonboy slowly dispersed and re-emerged from a small slice of pale rock to a mighty orb of brilliant light every thirty days, in the hope of meeting with the Sun, whom he loved dearly, and  that they may again share their ethereal beauties in the sky.

Copyright © JRFB 2013