Full Frontal Poetry: Young Poets


    There's something wonderful about the poetry of young poets, whether it's Keats, who died at the age of 27, so all of his poetry is the poetry of a young poet, or Perry Brass (I started writing poetry in high school), or a young poet named Sean McAllyn, who's 21 and lives in Madison, WI and claims he's a poet and a "gay adult model." I get a lot of poetry sent to me by young men, but I liked this one very much.

Polar plunge

It Wasn't Just a Hand Job
         by Sean McAllyn

Where's the man who will whisper to me?
The man who will make me feel significant
Every time I fall in love unexpectedly
Everyday I wonder where my good sense went

I realize this isn't what you bargained for
I didn't mean to like you
It wasn't just a hand job
I don't want to leave you

So tear me down, when you look at him
You don't mean it, you're your own person
The outlook's not dark, but it's dim
I'm sick of needing someone

I realize this isn't what you bargained for
I didn't mean to like you
It wasn't just a hand job
I don't want to leave you

I don't know how long I have, before fire turns to ash
How much time to I have before months turn in to years
The scars are building up to cover the emotional gash
The distance I somehow manage to keep from my feelings damns the tears

I realize this isn't what you bargained for
I didn't mean to like you
It wasn't just a hand job
I don't want to leave you

It isn't me your looking for, nor are you the one for me
But whisper to me, whisper and I can forget that there is no love
Maybe feeling hollow isn't my defense (well naturally)
I just want someone to say they need me






                [This poem of course reminded me of a similiar poem I wrote at the age of 22; here it is.]

 
Speak to Me as the Sea Speaks

The man will come
and the wind will speak.

Pardon me while I kiss your hands,
pardon the fact that I must touch you
every time we meet
and everytime we part.
Only do not talk
do not speak about other things
that have no meaning for both of us together.
The wind will speak,
the sea will speak.

Only speak to me
as the sea speaks.

[printed in Come Out!, the newspaper of the New York Gay Liberation Front, April, 1970]


Home                                                            News