
Tweeting poetry, prose and plays by or about LGBTQI+ people. Want art? Follow @queerartbot 🎨
Joined December 2018
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We will be free to live our lives in our own way - free to love each other away from the people who can’t understand. We will go somewhere where they can never again take from us our right to live. Somewhere there is such a place, I’m sure.
Lilyan Brock, Queer Patterns
And whether it was pity, or their beauty, or that she was older, or some accident-like a faint scent, or a violin next door (so strange is the power of sounds at certain moments), she did undoubtedly then feel what men felt.
Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway
In a strange house,
a strange bed
in a strange town,
a very strange me
is waiting for you.
James Baldwin, Munich, Winter 1973
I cried to think of how lucky we both were to have found each other, since it was clear that we were the only ones in the world who could understand what we understood in the instantaneous manner in which we understood it
Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name
When you came, you were like red wine and honey
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness
Amy Lowell, Decade
your kiss is my justice:
look then now how orange blooms of jubilation unfold in satisfied air
Gerrit Lansing, A Poem of Love in Eleven Lines
I did not look for her, because I was afraid of dispelling the mystery we attach to people whom we know only casually.
Colette, The Pure and the Impure
& now I know
what my innards
say
illegal to cause
people
to panic
to run
to hurt
there is
no contradiction
what the Nazis say
will cause
people
to hurt
ME.
Pat Parker, Don’t Let The Fascists Speak
theory we’ve confused happiness
with someone being able to say our name to us
theory half the people here only know the outside
Andrew McMillan, protest of the physical
She is just this side of wonderful,
and suddenly the glamorous world
fills itself with shining
Janice Gould, Six Sonnets: Crossing the West
But you really love this woman, how come no one can see this? Everyone must
become suddenly very clumsy at recognizing beauty if you are to keep her.
Brenda Shaughnessy, You Love, You Wonder
Sometimes in utter hopelessness I put my cheek on the table like it was someone. I wanted to wake my brain up and be loved.
Eileen Myles, Inferno
I remember how being young and Black and gay and lonely felt. A lot of it was fine, feeling I had the truth and the light and the key, but a lot of it was purely hell.
Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name
I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way.
Vita Sackville-West, letter to Virginia Woolf
I was yours once till death if you’d cared to keep me, but I’m someone else’s now… and he’s mine in a way that shocks you
EM Forster, Maurice
Fucking leaves everything as it is. Fucking may in no way interfere with the actual use of language. For it cannot give any foundation either. It leaves everything as it is.
Maggie Nelson, Bluets
Forget it not, nay; but got it not, for none could get it till now.
Sappho, trans. Dante Gabriel Rossetti, One Girl