It seems obvious to me that I really hit my stride as a songwriter where
the subject matter is more or less self-consciously gay. Nothing sings
so well as authenticity. Also, since I managed to write almost 20 gay
ballads over a period of 30 years, we get a picture of my development
as a songwriting
gay man. Not to mention that some of these songs are pretty darn good.
The (gay) man against the wall was solidly in the
closet in 1963. Dark fantasies and the possibility of choosing life
or death are here.
Harry Walker was a football hero who killed himself
when his best friend couldn't handle his secret.
Frank lust cannot be entirely hidden, for sooner or later, there
must be one more look.
Romantic gay pride at its schlockiest, but the boy has made the big
step, and he's no longer in the closet.
A touching story about two misfits who, even in the arms of a lover,
cannot escape their lonliness. (The boy with the heart of steel.)
"Redwood, rising to the sky, your lines become
a man" (Tom Manuel). A story about a childless kind of immortality.
Two more misfits wonder if "the bluebird and the butterfly can mate."
(The ring.)
He loves me, but for my part, I want something more. (The
mountain, the sea, and me.)
In the 19th Century Hirshfield Magnus was an advocate for Uranians.
In the 20th Century we can be a bit more pointed: Down with dinosaurs!
(Tyrannosaurus
sex.)
I cried for three days after writing this one. Good cries. "That someone who's
just the one for me has found his someone, too."
I love him, but for his part, he wants something more. (It's
funny.)
My parents and I achieved a major healing in our trip to
Agawa Canyon. Three sonnets on loving and not judging.
I had a guy once who wanted to prove his masculinity to his friends
by taking up with a woman. Here's what I said to him: What
about us? "You know I got some rights. Remember just who asked
who to stay those lonely nights."
A lovely picture of the Midwest Men's Festival held At the
Lake of the Ozarks State Park in 1985. "Shoreline daydreaming.
Sun on the water's gleaming."
Dedicated to Tom Manuel, my soul mate, who died in 1990. We had a
lot of fun in Alaska.
Glenda was one of the mothers of gay liberation
in St. Louis. She was also a healer of mine. "She
balanced up my chakras, and she pré-scribed vita-míns and answered
all my questions with her swinging pendu-lím."
I wrote this ode the day after Byron's death. "You'll
be my teacher, my companion and my friend for all eternity."
Don, my little gay brother, is the subject of a song from
a gay man's heart.
We all loved Ron at Trinity Episcopal, and he left
a big hole when he died.
If you liked these, you will probably like the Musical Review, which
is in the main, based on them.