“Queer Flame in Winter” Collection
By Graham Hartley
Hello friends! With emotions from the recent election high I wanted to write this collection from a few vantage points. There are themes of family drama, queer love, and a hope for a better future all embedded in these words. Stay safe and remember to love each other.
Candy Canes
monogamous color spiraled down a cane, white and red sectioned off
crossing bane
but candied hook held loft
I started to eat
the winter’s candy comes as a treat.
for as the tongue starts to work
and as the teeth start to sink.
a queer mix underneath lurks
a soulful and vibrant pink
Safe-Tree
Rainbow colors hung in the boughs
the branches hung with as many ornaments as allowed I draw near its pines
and study its shines
that decorated its sides
but this tree lies.
It promises love
It promises home
It promises dove
It promises loam.
but it pricked me.
Winter Wisp
o’ winter furnace,
o’ toasty glow,
warms my back,
while I watch the snow. Winter wisps gently flow, where their warmth left, I’ll never know,
just that the small orbs into earth absorbed. how magical,
to be a flake of ice,
a fairy of subzero,
or even an imp would suffice. I sit here warming my back, but o’ I wish I could be
as free
as those winter wisps
Wild Wind
It’s not the cold
but the wind that burns.
cloud breath calms,
my ears must learn.
still a long way home,
and my stomach churns.
Icy whirlwinds piece translucent air
to rest on my stiff-haired arms. no cause for alarm,
but discomfort settled quickly. It will be a long winter,
with unpredictable winds.
Kindling
Our “I love you” needs no words It is simply an understanding
a woven tapestry of belly laughs
and bawls that forge us together
I have spent little time daydreaming about my future
or my partner hand-in-hand, but you, sweet soul,
have warmed my life,
my hourglass’ sands.
I’ll always embrace you in the stasis of bliss being,
until the day I’m at your side kneeling. The person whose heart rivals the stars
and whose laugh harmonizes with my own beckons my joy forth like the rising dawn.
Your soft touch, my kindling, keeps me warm.
Slow Burn
A soft candle burns in the center of the room. It smells of cinnamon and promises,
and its slow drip of wax creates a pattern that my nostalgia has copyrighted.
We set our dinner with a small tablecloth
leaving its mahogany corners exposed, scratches and scrapes mark
where a child’s fork had mimicked Excalibur.
A sizzling simmer sounds from the stove
signaling soon to be silence.
The oil’s voice quiets as I plate our next 30 minutes.
The meal cooked itself,
yet I am thankful for the time together.
We’ve been here for a minute; I don’t mind a slow burn.
Sanctuary
A deceptively cozy hearth bears witness to all.
Providing safety and comfort to those who require shelter, However, this house is not a home as
Cold winds freeze the body through a missing wall,
And the downpour rampages upon a poorly supported soul. The embers of the hearth crackle their amusement,
As if laughing with disdain,
Hello Judgment, my bane.
Fake smiles beam with blinding lights,
And my words deafened though fright.
The warm flames ignite around the house,
A once safe interior now the landscape of hell.
Sanctuary is not found under a kilt. And sometimes a house must burn For a safer one to be built.
About the Author
Hello friends, my name is Graham Hartley and my pronouns are he/him/his. I am a student at Depauw University and some of my personal hobbies include playing the Handpan and writing poetry. I love competing in poetry slams and I cannot wait to share some of my pieces with all of you, I hope you enjoy it! Peace and Love.
