Another Butch, Another Day … Since 2004

Hy, Hys, Hym = Female Masculine Lesbian Butch pronouns

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9 Word Poetry Challenge


Adorn, Worn, Warn, Born, Torn, Forlorn, Mourn, Horn, Licorice

As I sit on the beach,
a forlorn moon rises
leaving a trail
on the midnight blue sea.

I mourn your absence.
That you are not here
at this place
I shared with you, now.

At the sound of footsteps
crunching on the pebbles
worn smooth by sand and waves,
I peer over tired shoulders.

A low horn of the lighthouse
serenades the ships and I
with its one note melody.
Sad and lonely, like me.

I’m torn between
staying here and
getting behind the wheel,
driving till the sun rises.

The lighthouse blares
its warning again
and with its solitary eye,
takes in its surroundings.

Unbeknownst to me,
the hours pass.
Pink then red hues
adorn the horizon.

And out of a licorice night,
another day is born.

~ 28 June 2014

Readers note: I took the liberty of using warning in place of warn

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9 Word Poetry Challenge


Soul, Envelopes, Depth, Calling, Trembling, Moon, Rising, Touch, Tenderness

golden moon
rising on wings unseen,
to soar
above the horizon.
Amid the stars
that dance,
within the depth
and silence of space.

You hover,
enveloped in clouds
that in their trembling,
move across the sky.
While I,
bathed in your hazed light
am calling out
from the depths
of my soul.

The tenderness
of the grass
that cradles me
mimics the touch
of caressing fingers
on my skin.
And sighs of contentment
are the only break
in the silence
borne of solitude.

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Dedicated to PL Travers and “the Nanny”

A 9 word poetry challenge

Birds wander
around the Cathedral Square
as a child
book held tightly
in one hand
her Nanny’s hand
as if for dear life
in the other.
The nightmarish face
of a gargoyle
reflecting intentional
or perhaps
as on the ground
mere mortals
for the sacrifice
or the courage
of those lost.
There can be "Feed The Birds"
no debate,
no fraud.
The book written
to teach
a lesson
by a man who
made a promise
to his child.
Had it not been
for a song,
my childhood
would have been
But now,
when I cross
Cathedral Square
I find myself
the melancholy
of the tune

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9 Word Poetry Challenge

Melody, Profound, Follow, Silk, Steel, Eye, Sun, Melt, Lost

Choosing love over anger
I reached out
and took your hand.
I had been lost,
wandering around
not knowing,
or caring
where my life was going.

How profound,
that you
should come into my life
at a time when
was stronger than
and show me a better path
to follow.

You the artist,
my muse,
the one who knows
the melody
of my heart-song.
You who showed me
that choosing
love over anger
was perfection.

You are
the only one
that warms me like the sun.
The one who melts
the frozen tears on my cheeks.
The one whose vision
that fills my mind’s eye.
The one for whom I,
chose love over anger.

~ Aryon 13 June 2014

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LGBT Cancer


May I have your attention please!!!

If you are part of the LGBT community in the United States … you NEED to read this.

I’m not going to go into great detail … follow the link above.

Also, the founder and executive director of the National LGBT Cancer Network, Liz Margolies, LCSW authored an article entitled ‘The Same, Only Scarier — The LGBT Cancer Experience’ which can be found here

Take heed. Be Aware.

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9 Word Poerty Challenge

East, Jade, Silk, French, Iron, Night, Postcard, Polish, Sing

Sometime during the night
I have fallen asleep.
On the table before me
my boot-blacking box
stands guard.
My boots bear witness to
coat after coat of polish
lovingly applied.
They drink it in
as I drink in thoughts
of the morning,
and you.
The iron that caressed
my shirt cools
as I grow hot
dreaming of caressing you.
The phone rings and drags me
into the dark
where the sound of your voice
is the light as you sing.
Not literally,
but in that way you have
that tugs at the
strings of my heart.
In the East,
the sun battles with
the semi-darkness
as the moon yields
to make way for light.
I rise and yawn
to let the butterflies
escape from within me.
as I stand, peering
at the jade grass
outside the hotel room window.
Later, at the airport,
your flight arrives
to a fanfare of nerves
that overshadow the blaring
of announcements.
Then, back at the hotel,
the silk tracings
of your French manicured nails
draw forth from my lips
a sound only you can hear.
And the postcard I bought in Brighton
is only one of many memories
that I hold dear.

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A Life without music …


I cannot imagine a life without music, can you?

I remember the first time music really touched me. I was at my Grandmother’s house and she sat down at her Thomas theater organ and began to serenade us. I wasn’t even in school yet but my life changed that day. I fell in love for the first time … with music.
I used to carry a book everywhere I went but this was a totally different kind of relationship.

As long as I can remember, I’ve sung. Be it in Church choirs during elementary school as a descant soprano or to the chords of my guitar. To a song on the radio or on my stereo … it didn’t matter where the music came from. When my Grandmother would play her organ, I would sit beside her on the bench and sing … I miss those days … the memories are wonderful.
Continue reading

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