Testing The Waters
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@twiceatonce
Testing The Waters
“Lemonade” poetry bits
Intuition
I tried to make a home outta you. But doors lead to trapdoors. A stairway leads to nothing. Unknown women wander the hallways at night. Where do you go when you go quiet? You remind me of my father, a magician. Able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood you come home at 3AM and lie to me. What are you hiding? The past, and the future merge to meet us here. What luck. What a fucking curse.
Denial
I tried to change. Closed my mouth more. Tried to be soft, prettier. Less…awake.
Fasted for 60 days. Wore white. Abstained from mirrors. Abstained from sex. Slowly did not speak another word.
In that time my hair grew past my ankles. I slept on a mat on the floor. I swallowed a sword. I levitated… into the basement, I confessed my sins and was baptized in a river. Got on my knees and said, “Amen.” And said I mean. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet. I threw myself into a volcano. I drank the blood and drank the wine. I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God. I crossed myself and thought… I saw the devil. I grew thickened skin on my feet. I bathed…in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the Holy Book. But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know. Are you cheating? Are you cheating on me?
Anger
If this what you truly want. I can wear her skin…over mine. Her hair, over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph. All three of us, immortalized. You and your perfect girl.
I don’t know when love became elusive. What I know is no one I know has it. My father’s arms around my mother’s neck. Fruit too ripe to eat.
I think of lovers as trees… …growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light. Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? (Why can’t you) Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can.
Apathy
So what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me? Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted, most bomb pussy, who because of me, sleep evaded. Her shroud is loneliness. Her God was listening. Her heaven would be a love without betrayal. Ashes to ashes…dust to side chicks.
Emptiness
She sleeps all day…dreams of you in both worlds.
Tills the blood in and out of uterus. Wakes up smelling of zinc. Grief, sedated by orgasm. Orgasm heightened by grief. God was in the room when the man said to the woman, “I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me and pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.” Sometimes when he’d have her nipple in his mouth, she’d whisper, “Oh my God.” That, too, is a form of worship. Her hips grind pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves, whenever he pulls out.
Loss. Dear moon, we blame you for floods…for the flush of blood…for men who are also wolves. We blame you for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts.
Every fear… Every nightmare…anyone has ever had.
Accountability
You find the black tube inside her beauty case. Where she keeps your father’s old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her. You look nothing like your mother. You look everything like your mother. Film star, beauty. How to wear your mother’s lipstick. You go to the bathroom to apply the lipstick. Somewhere no one can find you. You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face. Your mother is a woman. And women like her can not be contained.
Mother dearest, let me inherit the Earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a God? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head? Am I talking about your husband or your father?
Reformation
He bathes me… …until I forget their names…and faces. I ask him to look me in the eye when I come…home. Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you. But you are the love of my life…love of my life…the love of my life…the love of my life.
Forgiveness
Baptize me… …now that reconciliation is possible. If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious. One thousand girls raise their arms.
Do you remember being born?
Are you thankful? Are the hips that cracked… …the deep velvet of your mother… …and her mother… …and her mother? There is a curse that will be broken.
Resurrection
You are terrifying… …and strange… …and beautiful.
Hope
The nail technician pushes my cuticles back… …turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says: “I see your daughters, and their daughters.” That night in a dream the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach. The scar heals into a smile. The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails. We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath. I wake as the second girl crawls headfirst up my throat. A flower blossoming out of the hole in my face.
Redemption
Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons… …the zest of half lemon. Pour the water from one jug, then into the other, several times. Strain through a clean napkin.
Grandmother, the alchemist. You spun gold out of this hard life. Conjured beauty from the things left behind. Found healing where it did not live. Discovered the antidote in your own kitchen. Broke the curse with your own two hands. You passed these instructions down to your daughter. Who then passed it down to her daughter.
My grandma said, nothing real can be threatened. True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption. And my torturer became my remedy.
So we’re gonna heal, we’re gonna start again. You’ve brought the orchestra. Synchronized swimmers, you are the magician. Pull me back together again the way you cut me in half. Make the woman in doubt disappear. Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk, knot after knot after knot. The audience applauds… …but we can’t hear them.
Warsan Shire
Inside Paddington Reservoir Gardens. #paddingtonreservoir #park #garden #architecture #publicspace #columns #concrete #secretgarden #gay #instagay #gaysydney #Paddington #Sydney #Australia (at Paddington Reservoir)
El Anatsui, Stressed World, 2011. At @carriageworks, final weekend, get there. #ElAnatsui #FiveDecades #StressedWorld #Carriageworks #Redfern #metal #art #contemporaryart #upcycled #gay #instagay #gaysydney #exhibition #installation #Ghanianart #Nigerianart #Africanart (at Carriageworks)
These ATMs are so gay. #gaytm #gaynz #atm #anz #bank #oxfordstreet #darlinghurst #sydneymardigras #gay #instagay #gaysydney #baroque #art #street #Sydney #Australia (at ANZ Bank Oxford St)
I love that our city will allow a giant, gaudy pink condom to be placed over a monument to help with Ending HIV and celebrating Mardi Gras. #EndingHIV #sydneymardigras #condom #pink #monument #obelisk #hydepark #city #architecture #gay #instagay #gaysydney #publicart #health #Sydney #Australia #city (at Hyde Park)
Last night at H2O: Water Bar in Paddington Reservoir Gardens again. Last night tonight. Well worth it. #h2owaterbar #janetlaurence #waterbar #glass #art #contemporaryart #artmonthsydney #artandabout #gay #instagay #gaysydney #laboratory #apothecary #water #paddingtonreservoir #paddington #Sydney #publicart #exhibition #popup #installation #Australia (at Paddington Reservoir)
Kicked off my #mgff16 last night with Josh Kim's feature debut How To Win At Checkers (Every Time). And I enjoyed it. A Thai coming of age film, it centres on a boy whose older brother is drafted into the military, while the brother's boyfriend bribes his way to safety. It's simple, but very well executed. And my FAVOURITE part was that the sexuality wasn't a conflict, or even a plot point. It just was. The brother was gay, but could just as easily have been straight. It addresses something I feel queer cinema has been lacking — stories that feature queer characters without them being about the 'queer' story. There were no stereotypes, there was no discrimination, they just happened to be gay. Hopefully it's a sign of queer cinema no longer always 'othering' queer characters. Not that there's anything wrong with difference, or with those stories, but a growing catalogue showing mundane normalcy (on the queer front) would go a long way towards promoting much broader acceptance. @queerscreen #film #howtowinatcheckerseverytime #joshkim #thailand #thaifilm #cinema #movie #filmreview #gay #instagay #gaysydney #gaythailand #gaysian #sydneymardigras #Sydney #Australia #gayasian
So I took the dress Geri Halliwell wore as Ginger Spice in Spiceworld (the actual one) and climbed Kings Canyon and took some photos because Priscilla: Queen of the Desert is an important moment in popular culture and someone had to do it. Full credit to the Luritja people for allowing all of us access to this incredible and very special location.
One of the loneliest buildings in Sydney with a question tucked inside.
A lonely building in Sydney with a message hidden inside.
Breakfast questions.
Just told the bf that if he loved me he'd buy me bacon and it totally didn't work so now I'm single and have to buy my own bacon.
Last night in Sydney.
If someone could deep fry my hangover for me it'd be much appreciated.
If I haven't responded to at least one person today with 'That's your question? That's your fucking question? Nice to meet you' I will consider it a dismal failure.
WANT TO SEE THE FILM? Be first in line! Register at our website: thegaybyproject.com "Gayby Baby" follows the lives of four kids – Gus, Ebony, Matt and Graha...
I supported this film on Pozible years ago, and so glad to finally see a trailer for it. If study after study won’t convince skeptics that gay couples can raise children, perhaps the children themselves can.