Homoerotic Poems is principally a gay poetry collection; the poems explore male homosexual love. Certain that homoerotic poetry can have literary value, I will post my homoerotic poems here. Start with the earliest, to browse through all of these erotic poems, written for readers of gay erotic poetry. Copyright is asserted. If you are not by law an adult, or if you object to erotic gay love poems or homosexual erotic literature, leave this site.
This blog ran for more than two years with no graphics--and it received about 50 page views. I was advised to add graphics; after seeing the huge public that followed blogs dedicated to homoerotic images, I decided to use that kind. The result was a dramatically increased number of monthly page views, and the number has remained fairly steady. Most of the images were found on the internet; although they are assumed to be in the public domain, they are identified as far as possible. They are exhibited under the “Fair Use” protections of United States copyright law: their function is simply to attract readers to the poems--I receive no economic benefit from them or from the blog. Nevertheless, they will be removed if they are copyrighted and the owner so desires.
Tell all he did?
Indecency I dare not name!--His hand
He cropped, the
rest lopped off and cast like Satan behind him.
Free at last,
Blind and deaf,
without tongue or touch,
charity and disgust
of course, on water and crusts--
else for yards around,
when, where, why, or how.
_______________________________________________ Image from http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.stevenkasher.com/html/..%255Cpublish%255Cworksimages%255CPlattLynes009169_LG.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.stevenkasher.com/html/Detail.asp%3FWorkInvNum%3D9169%26artistname%3D%26whatpage%3Dexhib&usg=__eg5UwE_ioWBRsgKFLAMBObu12HI=&h=419&w=345&sz=22&hl=en&start=143&zoom=1&tbnid=dcQzFRB1SmIdxM:&tbnh=125&tbnw=103&ei=fZKHT9DUF42Y8gTVtKnSCA&prev=/search%3Fq%3DGeorge%2BPlatt%2BLynes%26start%3D126%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26tbm%3Disch%26prmd%3Divnso&itbs=1
Dateline: 20 January 1969. With humble apologies to John Keats.
-- From having dreamed so long
With every song and love-scene ever played,
The couple locked themselves in and lay down,
Left the lights on, and stayed
(Locked in themselves)
While the TV went out of tone
(The shadows there
Squawked, more like parrots than before)
And then went out,
Not leaving even a cathode star.
And the newspapers piled up against the door
And the cleaning woman rattled her keys and called
And the manager came and went
And detectives dusted the walls and the floor
Without finding a print
Of foul play or fair: Except for where
A bouquet of red roses stained the air
Like a 3-D greeting card,
Nothing was there.
These two had gone beyond
Reality, desire, illusion.
A dream had ended; a journey had begun.