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The Closetomb

Discussion in 'LGBT Later in Life' started by Closeteer, Jun 16, 2015.

  1. Closeteer

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    Note: One day I shall be able to associate my real name with this poem; what I think about is how soon will I make that day come :slight_smile:

    Disclaimer: Could be a long read!

    The Closetomb

    Once upon a time,
    In a land far, far away.
    There lived a boy,
    Who realized, one day, that he was gay.
    It dawned upon him gradually,
    Like twilight stealing over the land.
    That he had begun to think of boys in ‘that way’,
    And, what’s more, it was out of his hand.

    As he sat in the Worry Wood,
    He heard a footstep close by.
    He looked up to see a strange creature,
    Whose head kept pivoting from left to righ’.
    “Who are you?” the kid queried,
    Staring at the head as it moved from end to end.
    “I’m Denial, my dear child,
    Trust me, for I mean to be a friend.”

    It led him to a giant tree,
    With wood as black as despair.
    It raised a finger and lo and behold,
    The tree split apart, as the boy continued to stare.
    Shards of wood whirled all around,
    As they shaped themselves into planks.
    Dark and gleaming with a silky shine,
    They fell into well-ordered flanks.

    It then picked up the biggest piece,
    And handed it to the boy and said,
    “Now make yourself a closet, little one,
    As strong and durable as lead.
    Surely you know that you are all wrong?
    For whoever heard of a boy loving a boy?
    But in the closet you shall be safe,
    For Denial and Worry make a strong alloy!”

    So the boy built up a closet,
    Big and airy and wide.
    Following directions all the while,
    From Denial at his side.
    “Now one last thing, little one,
    Stand like that, yes, perfect, just so.
    As Straight as you possibly can,
    Straight is splendid, don’t you know?”

    Years passed and the boy grew up,
    Always returning to the closet every night.
    He had made it comfortable, of course,
    Books, games, music, a few sources of light.
    But every now and then, he stole a glance,
    At the forgotten backburner pushed against the wall.
    Which is where he had stored some of his dreams,
    The ones about Love with a man, in which he wanted to fall.

    One day there was a knock on the door,
    And he opened the door to see a terrible sight.
    A haze of pure darkness hung in the air,
    With two orbs of red in the middle glowing evilly bright.
    A second later, the ‘eyes’ blinked,
    And a terrific terror surged within the lad.
    As a deathly display of horrors flashed past his eyes,
    It would have been enough to drive someone mad.

    He was going to be abandoned by his family,
    Left alone by all his friends.
    He would be an outcast from society,
    Life would become a series of finishes and ends.
    Suddenly the vision dissipated,
    As did that horrorsome haze that had hung near.
    And the boy knew, beyond the shadow of doubt,
    That he had been visited by Fear.

    So he went once more into the Worry Wood,
    Got more blackwood to fortify his closet.
    Built layers and shelves and corners anew,
    Nothing could go wrong now, he was all set.
    When things threatened to get too overwhelming,
    He walked over to the Lake of Loneliness.
    There, on a lone rock, beside the quiet water,
    To no one, his thoughts, he would confess.

    The lake was, as everything else in this tale,
    Quite unusual as far as lakes go.
    For each drop of water that made up that feature,
    Was definitely not ordinary, oh no.
    Every thought, every wish, every fantasy,
    That the boy had on those topics forbidden.
    Had liquefied into lustrous loneliness,
    And become yet another thing that he had hidden.

    And so life continued, as it was wont to do,
    As the boy grew taller and higher.
    And it was on a day like any other,
    That he stumbled upon a Lyre.
    “And what do you do?” he asked,
    And the instrument pleasantly replied, “Sire!
    Why, I can help you not stand out!
    For how different are they really? A Lyre and a Liar?”

    “Tell the world that you like women,
    Or tell the people that you’re waiting for love.
    Or tell them that you are the ‘single’ type,
    See? No mention of the word ‘gay’ in the options above!”
    “But why?” began the boy,
    “Because people talk,” the Lyre cut in,
    “Their tongues wag faster than the tails of dogs,
    They just love to interfere and butt in.”

    And so still more years passed,
    And the boy became a man.
    He was fairly happy and well-adjusted,
    Carried off daily work with quiet élan.
    He did feel a strange heaviness at times,
    But shrugged it off as daily wear and tear.
    He was safe and secure in his roomy closet,
    Away from people who judge and overbear.

    One night, as he lay in bed,
    Tossing and turning and trying to sleep.
    He heard a strange, swirling sound,
    As if belonging to something rushing and deep.
    He opened the door of the closet,
    And a worrying sight met his eyes.
    The Lake of Loneliness had overflowed its banks,
    The fathomless water was starting to rise.

    The repressed emotions, the hidden feelings,
    The desirous fantasies, many a secret crush.
    Had coalesced into a flood of confusion,
    That, towards him, did rush.
    The man rushed inside the closet,
    Rescued from the backburner his cobwebbed dreams.
    Fled out into the night away from the surging water,
    Too breathless to even let out any screams.

    But that cursed water followed him,
    And seemed to be gathering speed.
    At such a crucial time,
    A friend was what he did need!
    So he pulled out the Lyre,
    And asked him, “What shall I do?”
    And the Lyre smilingly replied,
    “Nothing! All will be well for you!”

    “Honestly?” the man asked,
    As the path became more uphill.
    “Why yes,” said the instrument,
    “You will go to heaven, you will!”
    “What? But I haven’t lived a full life!” cried the man,
    “I always hid away a part of me in the closet!”
    “Well, a closet could also be used as a tomb, right? asked the Lyre,
    “And no one, with worry, will be beset!”

    And finally the man flung away that hateful instrument,
    Which had helped him deliver lie after lie.
    His life started flashing before his eyes because,
    He was sure he was going to drown and die.
    It had been a great life in so many ways,
    And not so great in others.
    A secret kept always weighs you down,
    And occasionally, even happiness it smothers.

    Suddenly, there was a blaze of light,
    As the heavens seemed to explode with brilliance.
    The man felt himself lifted up in the air,
    By a being of luminescent radiance.
    It held on to him tight,
    And flew away the Lake and the Wood,
    It carried him over and placed him down,
    And then, beside him, stood.

    “So who am I?” it smilingly asked,
    “You know in your heart, don’t you?”
    “Yes,” the man replied in amazement,
    “You’re Epiphany, bright and true.”
    It nodded happily and flicked a wand,
    And the man’s cobwebbed dreams flew up in air.
    Another flick and they were as good as new,
    As if polished and cleaned with loving care.

    “There’s something on your back,” it said with a frown,
    “Turn around, will you, for a moment?”
    The man did so and Epiphany plucked from him,
    Something dark and glossy with neither taste nor scent.
    “Why, it’s wood from the closet!” he exclaimed,
    “I must have brushed against something in my hurry!”
    “No, that thing isn’t from the closet, it’s from you,” it said,
    “It’s your Secret, see how it grows foggy and blurry?”

    He slowly raised his eyes to its,
    A question started forming in his mind.
    “No,” it said before he could even ask,
    “I know you want to ask about what you left behind.
    This is the hard part, you see,
    For I cannot tell you when the time is right or wrong.
    I can’t choose for you between inside and out,
    You have to decide where you belong.”

    “You don’t have to do it today,
    You don’t have to do it tomorrow.
    But you have seen for yourself, haven’t you?
    That your life is filling you with a secret sorrow?
    Here, take your secret, it won’t hurt you,
    It will just grow heavier with each passing day.
    It might even spill over to other parts of your life,
    And start to poison, insidiously, your regular everyday.

    Life is finite, that you already know,
    From the moment you emerged from the womb.
    The ultimate choice, my dear, is also yours,
    Whether you will make your closet your tomb.
    There are millions like you lost in their own Worry Woods,
    Each day feeding their Lakes of Loneliness.
    Each one’s closet is unique to its builder,
    Each one’s life is a different mix of order and mess.

    Many others, like you, I visit,
    Rescuing them from time to time.
    Telling them something they already knew,
    That being yourself is not a crime.
    So now, I must take leave of you,
    For I spy the approaching dawn.
    The sun? The hope? The realization?
    Many meanings from it can be drawn.

    And this is where the tale ends, you see,
    Because its real ending can only be written by each one of us.
    It ends with the man on the brink of a decision,
    Something which could, no doubt, create a bit of fuss.
    I, too, shall one day emerge from my closet,
    And cast away Denial, Loneliness and Fear.
    Finally be done with that leaden Secret,
    That for so many decades I’ve had to bear.

    I know there are things to think about,
    Wait for when the time seems right.
    The time, though, will never be perfect,
    There’d always be a hurdle or two in sight.
    But if I know that I have the support of F’s,
    Family, friends, funds – many or at least a few.
    I shall be able to emerge, phoenix-like,
    And take hold of my identity anew.

    So if you have a closet of your own, don’t fret,
    Because most of us have been, or are, there.
    Try shaping your life so that you can one day come out,
    And find happiness and love and care :slight_smile:

    ---
     
  2. bi2me

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    Thank you for the lovely parable
     
  3. whattodoii

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    in the back of my closet, with one friend :)
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    I think it's beautiful!!
     
  4. Michael

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    That was truly a diamond.
    Thanks for sharing, and please keep writing.
     
  5. Closeteer

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    Thanks, guys :slight_smile:
     
  6. brainwashed

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    Sorry I feel asleep in the middle somewhere. All the neat words began to blur. I'll pick it up again in the morning. Thanks for the post.
     
  7. OnTheHighway

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    You should repost that or send it on to other websites and LGBT focused media. It's truly exceptional filled with feeling and expression. But when you do so, reflect your own ending, after having come out and enjoyed the benefits as a result!
     
  8. SiennaFire

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    I got a little misty eyed reading this and was inspired me to write my own ending


    one day the man had a vision of dying
    with his secret intact
    yet never having lived
    his closet had become his coffin

    at that moment the man found the courage
    to admit that he's liked boys all his life
    though he was too ashamed to show it
    he went on a journey to find himself and
    the cave with the treasure he seeks

    during his journey he discovered the cave
    he was afraid of what he might find inside
    he went inside anyway and all he found was darkness
    then one day he found the treasure chest
    inside he found the strength to say
    he is gay

    he was terrified of this word all his life
    he didn't want to be different and feel ashamed
    by embracing this word he found the light
    he is gay

    being gay comforts him like a warm cozy blanket
    the closet is hard and rough
    he's found the strength to love himself
    and destroy his closet
    i am gay
     
  9. OnTheHighway

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  10. Closeteer

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    Wow! Way to go, SiennaFire! :-D Are you in the market for co-authoring a book? ;-)

    Brainwashed - did you finally read it? ;-)

    OTH - Duly noted! :slight_smile: And thanks for the suggestion. Confess that had occurred to me too but just felt like sharing it here first :slight_smile:
     
  11. SiennaFire

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    I'm in the market for a boyfriend actually :lol:
     
  12. Closeteer

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    Aren't we all? :slight_smile:
     
  13. BeingEarnest

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    Thank you for sharing your story. It would make a good illustrated children's book.
     
  14. Feln

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    Really good piece of art! Enjoyed every bit of it.
     
  15. 50ishandout

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    Both were excellent. Maybe there should be a separate section for poetry.
     
  16. SiennaFire

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    Think I found the BF, so let's chat about the co-authoring a book :thumbsup:
     
  17. Louie1

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    Simply Crying reading this, wow, what a post, what a poem. I can relate to every single word, feeling, emotion, thought, behaviour.

    Ultimately, happiness lies in our own hands and we must have the strength and courage to make a decision and back it up with action.

    Hugs to all :tears::tears::tears: