After Hours

Summary

The website content reflects on a personal history of complex bisexual relationships and the fear of societal judgment, while inviting readers to explore their own experiences with complicated love and identity through a poetry prompt.

Abstract

The text is a call for submissions to a poetry prompt themed around "frustrated history," particularly focusing on the intricacies of bisexuality and the relationships one forms under its spectrum. It is deeply personal, with the author recounting intimate moments and the struggle to navigate love without crossing boundaries, all while grappling with societal perceptions and self-acceptance. The prompt encourages contributors to delve into their own pasts to share instances of love that were both magical and challenging, emphasizing the importance of embracing one's true self despite the fear that often accompanies such vulnerability.

Opinions

The author expresses a sense of nostalgia and complexity in past relationships, particularly with gay men who provided close companionship without crossing certain boundaries.
There is an evident struggle with societal expectations and the fear of being judged for one's sexuality, which has historically caused the author to withhold love.
The author reflects on the difficulty of properly expressing love within these relationships, hinting at a desire for deeper connection and understanding.
The poetry prompt serves as a cathartic tool, encouraging others to confront and share their own stories of love that have been both enchanting and frustrating, suggesting a collective need for acceptance and openness.
The inclusion of a diverse list of names indicates a broad call to the writing community, inviting a multitude of voices and perspectives to contribute to the conversation around love, identity, and the historical context of these experiences.

27 February 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: frustrated history

In order to get started, I push past the glass and steel door, remember when I could smoke inside here, and I still did on Saturday after closing time, spent the night between each other, sharing cigarettes, gasping about the catechism when I thought you were nothing holy, but of course that was me, and you were doing better

comparing scars on the chin that made shaving fucking tough, moaning on the lack of good hair in Winnipeg, tripping off to the bathroom to make sure it’s still good, us, me dyed black to escape the wool, you with your Vietnamese colouring, blue green red in the hair now, today we both escaped the razor

and I’m still sure I don’t know how to love you properly, this coming here, yes barely restrained touching, and you wanting to go further and me not knowing how, bitching about a girl in order to deflect, and threading names into the conversation to ensure we’re not alone, not high, or high but not alone right now.

Prompt:

My bisexuality, complicated and frustrating (not to mention how many years it took to get comfortable with the term) as it has been, usually found me in close companionship with some incredible gay men who loved me, I think, but didn’t try to cross any boundaries. I was so afraid of what people would think…always fear instead of more love. Ahem. A little history, I suppose. I’m not asking any of you to come out of whatever closet might be comforting, but I’d like to see some examples of half-magical, half-frustrating experiences in your history for today’s prompt. Tag me in it (J.D. Harms). And, please, continue to rock on!