In 2007, Warren Norgaard and John Gilgun co-published
There Is A Tomorrow: A Collection of Dialogues in Prose and Poetry.
SELECT READINGS
Destination
Deeply my soul is touched
a stare that reaches the far depths
I melt upon your haunting gaze
which lifts me up
to a new realm
one of desire and trust
beyond the confines of imagination
into an era of examination
old wounds are healed with but a sound
the fire of ecstasy burns my flesh
with the sting of a new awakening
the lashes strong and sweet
opening my consciousness with every stroke
widening inner beauty
releasing my soul to live at last
with heat I feel the seemingly unnatural response
I cannot resist
with utter abandon my body follows
my mind aware only of you
my ears open to your silent whisper
the world becomes another
new shades of color to accent
and yet I notice only you
my pleasure increases with thoughts of yours
I am overtaken
open
vulnerable
unable to speak...yet very aware
your commanding soul my only focus
I feel your power and know my own
very distinct and yet one with the other
you speak
my mind does not understand the words
yet my body reacts immediately
my soul reaches to realize the words given
"You are mine"
the words whispered with confidence
my body understands
my mind lost in the sound
"I am yours"
I whisper as I reach the new destination
and lose myself completely
I am free.
- Warren Norgaard
Sex Offender
Warm me all over
In the heavy leather chairs of his outer chamber
With the events that have led you here...
Sitting and watching dirty films,
slouched in a comfy chair with my little friend
dancing about in that warm, mysterious bag...
The events that have led you here,
As I called my elderly neighbor
to make my travels faster
(I thought) than the others.
The events that have led you here...
to the loud ringing of the bells and
down among the houses,
dusting the trees and children with a soft, silky ash.
The events that have led you here...
You could see that, to the right, a small pond
had collected with the spring rains.
- Warren Norgaard
Moments of Ecstasy
While I lay in fold of flannel warmth,
drifting towards a bliss that is sleep,
my dreams begin
Dreams of soft, gentle kisses
romantic walks along deserted beaches
and sizzling sunsets
Dreams of
Passionate nights
full of fleeting promises
and softly spoken pet names
Dreams of
You, drifting into slumber,
your head resting on my lap
watching romantic movies
as I run my fingers through your hair
Dreams of
sitting in a provincial little cafe
lost somewhere in Europe,
no cares (in mind nor heart)
holding your hand in mine
and staring into your eyes
As light gently filters back into the room,
and the hassles of life begin to assault my senses
I awake, wrapped not in flannel, but rather
wrapped in you, where I once believed
only my dreams could take me
I lay awake, entangled in you, smiling,
running my fingers through your hair
as you slowly begin to wake,
and I continue to dream
of you.
- Warren Norgaard
seventy-two hours
making love with dali
must have been strange
fish
with bowls of fruit
smoke
naked half-women
hands holding dice
being crushed by clouds
on fire
falling from the ground
making love with christ
might have been strange
love
with ten commandments
laws
fully clothed sheep-skin half-truths
hands held out
being crushed by doves
on fire
falling from the sky
eating with dali
must have been messy
oil lamp
with broken bottles
mirrors
naked half-women
seen from the back
giant oranges
melting like clocks
eating with christ
might have been filling
food
with five loaves and two fish
wine
oil-anointed feet
holding hands
being kissed by judas
on fire
for selling christ's body
playing card with dali
would allow for new rules
pipe
dealing the next hand
of mice
over the telephone
holding naked half-women
behind a red sky
in the water
in the mirror
playing cards with christ
followed all the rules
fairness
with fifty-two cards
and twelve disciples
hands help out
waiting for the women
to serve
the passover meal
dying with dali
would be a self-portrait
apparatus
pianos and rotting donkeys
crutches
early swing music
being held by three hands
neatly installed into cardboard
with a wash basket
as a coffin
buried into the green sky
and returning one minute short
of seventy-two hours
- Warren Norgaard
Perhaps You Didn’t Notice …
For John Gilgun
"If you ever came on to me I'd probably
melt like an ice cube." - John Gilgun
It's been ten years now.
From 1390 miles away,
We made love. But,
Perhaps you didn't notice.
It was discreet, I'll admit.
Intercourse, through email,
Penetration via modem.
I stripped you naked,
One word at a time,
Slowly, sensually,
Kissing your skin
With every keystroke.
We've been going at it
For ten years now,
As hot and heavy
As that very first time. But,
Perhaps you didn't notice.
Once, I sat across from you
In your living room,
On your couch,
Hugging your pillow
To my body
As we conversed
So passionately.
For a moment that night,
When your eyes sparkled,
Vibrant and excited,
And your smile widened
Encompassing the room,
You were twenty again.
We made love in that moment,
And it lasted for days. But,
Perhaps you didn't notice.
- Warren Norgaard
Ying & Yang
For Carol Sutton
She is black and white
and had a similar sister
who has disappeared.
We named the other one Ying
and this one Yang.
Yang is now Ying Yang
and is living up to her name.
We never know what to expect
when we walk out the door.
One day, I opened the door
and she streaked by
and back
and by again
and then hid in the bushes.
Another day
I came home
and she ran
and hid under the door mat,
peeked out and wiggled her tail
until the kittens jumped her.
When I pet her,
she bats my hand
if I stop petting too soon.
She purrs so loud
you can hear her
across the road.
This morning
she dashed out of the bushes,
by the house,
skidded onto the mat,
and instead of going under it,
she rolled it over her
forming a cat taco
and wriggled like crazy.
(Wayne says
if you eat a cat taco
it will give you gas)
When we got home just now,
the door mat was half way across the yard,
upside down.
We recently got a dog.
She is too short legged
to chase cars.
She looks just like a German Shepherd
but with 3 inch long legs.
Ying Yang plays with her
as if she were a cat.
We think
the cat
is psychotic.
- Warren Norgaard
Under A Sunless Sky
Uncertain figures seek each other out in newfound darkness
As hesitant lips touch, unsure of acceptability.
Now, as sunless sky streams through vertical blinds
Spilling lavishly over our warm and shaking selves,
We undress one another, meekly, feebly, carefully.
My palms, perspiring in anticipation, gently reach for you,
Caressing the small of your back, the form of your buttocks.
This body -- your body -- is so foreign to my touch.
Accustomed to different curves, in different places,
Unsure what to do. I am lost in the newness of this experience.
Our tongues meet in rich embrace, lingering in the taste of oral wines.
Passion fills my veins, pulsing hot where blood once flowed.
I bring you close, that you may bear down on me.
Enjoying every moment of your company, in my fear and confusion,
I bring my mouth downward, kissing your neck,
Then north, my tongue begging to probe the depths of your ear.
You squeal with enjoyment, arching your body upward. I am pleased.
Success, it seems, is mine, if only for the moment. Your hands
Roam my body, and I lay back to enjoy the warmth of your touch.
My soul absorbs your attentions eagerly, yet cannot succumb fully.
The urges to embrace your sex are overwhelming, and I must act.
Moving southerly, I embrace your manhood, gently, cautiously,
Hesitantly exploring you with my tongue and lower lip.
You are so warm and soft; smooth, rich with desire I cannot resist.
With passions bridled no longer, my lust runs strong; and stronger still
As I am unleashed wholly upon you, suddenly free of restraint,
And enjoying fully the taste of your flesh, every inch.
- Warren Norgaard
GayBashing
for Matthew Shepard
Gaybashing
Gaybashing
Catching up on
Gaybashing
Anthony in California
Plop!
Gaybashing
Hey! It's me...
Gaybashing
Hi there...
Hi!
Never forget -
Gaybashing
My Own Private Idaho
My Own Private Idaho
My Own Private Idaho
Gaybashing
New kid on the block
Virus alert!
Gaybashing
Hum along to some great
Gaybashing
Clothing
Clothing
My next door neighbor
Gaybashing
Anybody know
My next door neighbor
Gaybashing
Story about my next door neighbor
Friendships
Gaybashing
Poor me! Tee Hee!
Gaybashing
Michael
Other nice Hollywood stars
Age and the
Gaybashing
Update on the life and times of
Gaybashing
All my sins...
Hatred of certain
"Sluts" and others
Gaybashing
All my sins
All my sins
"Sluts" and other
Hatred of certain
Life is sweet
Gaybashing
Hatred of Matthew
This is so funny
Gaybashing
This is really cool
Gaybashing
Try this
Gaybashing
Joke of the day -
Gaybashing.
- Warren Norgaard
Caverns
Inspired By Rob Johnson
And you take me, in your car,
And you drive me, in the night,
To the place you hold so sacred.
And the moon shines down on us
And illuminates the valley walls, the rippling tide,
And it is as if the great spirits await your beckoning call,
And they come to life as you press the button on that old radio,
The one you bough in the second hand store for ten dollars,
And the music of the gods spills forth.
And you turn to me,
And you take me in your arms,
And you smile.
And you stare at the rippling waters,
And you turn to me once more,
And you ask the question,
"Isn't this the most beautiful place you've ever seen?"
And I already know the answer.
And I knew it before you finished asking.
And I look to you,
And I pause,
And it is only for your sake that I pause,
And I lean toward you,
And I kiss you upon the lips, oh, so gently,
And I say, "No, it isn't."
And it is not.
And it is not because this place,
At this moment,
is not truly perfect,
But rather because I have seen
What majestic sights hide
In the caverns of my mind.
- Warren Norgaard
I Saw You At Golden Gate Park
I saw you at Golden Gate Park
or was it last year's DadaFest,
or maybe at Cicadia
or the MOMA Magritte exhibit
or when they did the Threepenny Opera.
I might've seen you
at the bookstore
or that Ethiopian Restaurant on Mission
or throwing, clumsily
but not ungracefully,
a frisbee at North Beach.
You would've been reading a book
or on your way back from an Indie film,
and I didn't talk to you
(thought by God I wanted to)
because I was with that other guy
or you were with that other guy
or maybe you looked unapproachable
or maybe I was too far away,
just checking you out with binoculars,
or watching your lovely upside-down image
through the camera obscura by the sea.
Anyway, I'm trying to find you
to say thanks
for beautifying my life
and maybe we should get some coffee
or at least talk about getting it,
because I'd love sitting across
from your bright intelligent eyes
(sometimes they were blue
but often brown
or hazel
and once,
which I'll never forget,
they were this soft amazing grey)
and talking about your job
which you either love to death
because that's a turn on
or else hate so much
you devote yourself to other things,
and talking about my love of photography
and exploring new foods at Cafe Istanbul
or talking about people passing by,
and how beautiful they might have been to know,
and how sad it is
(here I'd mention "A Une Passante" by Baudelaire
and you'd smile knowlingly,
whether pretending to know or not
doesn't matter,
as long as you'd pretend for me),
but in any case talking
if about nothing else than about
what an incredible coincidence it was,
your having seen these words which are,
of all the words everywhere,
after all about no one else but you,
and about the fact that I want another chance,
a better chance,
a chance at all with you.
- Warren Norgaard
