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Homophobia is just that: a phobia.

quote by George Weinberg
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Phobia

Everybody got something hidden
In a darkness deep inside
Everybody gotta fatal flaw
Everybody got something to hide
Take a look into my eyes
See the fear and silent cries - phobia
Deep inside, take another look at it - phobia
Everybody got a phobia
Take another look, what you got - phobia
There are alleyways of your psyche
That have gotta be analyzed
Psychological penetration
Of the fear you cannot hide
Theres a key to a door to be opened
And I wanna take a look inside
And in the darkest shadow of your mind
What you gonna find?
Phobia
Out under a technicolor ray
It all disappears on a bright, sunny day
But even on a crowded street
Somebody you might meet
Might trigger a repeat of phobia
Strikes again, fear of fire and being buried alive
Dizzy heights, wire coat hangers
Things that crawl and go bump in the night - phobia
Fear of germs
Creepy crawlies that make you squirm - phobia
Images of long ago, memories that you hardly know
A minor childhood incident
Triggering something deep below
Spiders webs and black cats
Cockroaches and sewer rats
Full moons and witches hats
Creepy crawlies, vampire bats - phobia
Im talking about phobia
Crowded rooms, too many faces
Suffocation, open spaces
Everybody gotta weird sensation
That they wanna keep trapped inside
Maybe its a sexual deviation
Hiding beneath a respectable guise
If you are of this persuasion
There is just one explanation - phobia
Started out a long time ago - phobia
When you were small you may have seen a sight
But you were too young to know - phobia
What you got - phobia
Everybody got phobia, what you got - phobia
Everybody got phobia, take another look, what you got?

[...] Read more

song performed by Kinks
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Fear Of The Dark

I am a man who walks alone
And when Im walking a dark road
At night or strolling through the park
When the light begins to change
I sometimes feel a little strange
A little anxious when its dark
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that someones always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someones allways there
Have you run your fingers down the wall
And have you felt your neck skin crawl
When youre searching for the light?
Sometimes when youre scared to take a look
At the corner of the room
Youve sensed that somethings watching you
Have you ever been alone at night
Thought you heard footsteps behind
And turned around and no ones there?
And as you quicken up your pace
You find it hard to look again
Because youre sure theres someone there
Watching horror films the night before
Debating wiches and folklore
The unkown troubles on your mind
Maybe your mind is playing tricks
You sense and suddenly eyes fix
On dancing shadows from behind
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that someones always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someones allways there
When Im walking a dark road
I am a man who walkes alone

song performed by Iron Maiden
Added by Lucian Velea
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50 Cent

'I will kill you like a snake',
'I will roast you like a chicken',
'I will fry you like a plantain',
So roll, roll, roll your boat when,
You have a killer gun in your pocket.
I was born in the ghetto,
With the status of poverty without a fish;
I was taught in the ghettto,
With much tears than hope;
I was brought up in the ghetto,
Without the Statue of Liberty to salute;
So roll your boat with the gun in your pocket but,
Who is ther to cover up your actions?

I was taught in a mud-house,
Without slippers on my feet;
That's the kind of society i cam from.
I had my education on the streets with,
Fights, Hunger and Starvation to crown the day;
But your killer gun in your pocket will,
Give you up one day.
Taught by the street lived by the streets,
Learned by the streets and loved by the streets,
Married by the street and of the cluster of a phobia!
But this way was part of my maturity;
That is why i do not respect the gun in your pocket.

Stealing and looting and of the plans to make the move,
But as a Human-Being who lives on 50 Cent a day!
Oh life in the ghetto,
And with the status of poverty without a fish;
But just roll your boat with a merry on your face,
For life to me was just like the mountain of snakes!
Oh life's fair fountain that eluded me,
Stealing and looting and of the plans to make it work always;
But i was just living on 50 Cent a day!
Joy to me was like the roasting of a chicken and,
Hope to me was like the killing of a rabbit;
And of an excellent value for many when one dies,
But peace to me was like the frying of plantains.

We still have leaders ruling us but,
We were still mulling to make a case like a courageous leader;
But to live on 50 Cent a day in the ghetto was all that we have,
And of the cluster of a phobia of things around us!
Life in the ghetto and living on 50 Cent a day,
It was like life on the run with the bullets behind us;
And at times it was like the straw on a camel's back,
With the negativity of life to meet all the time!

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Injustice of the Courts

Whites alone upon the jury in a number of the states,
Thus they crush a helpless Negro with their prejudicial hates;
Legal ills they thrust upon him, and the tale is passing sad—
Equal rights with white men? Never! Color-phobia makes them mad.

'Tis the training of the children, every Negro to suppress,
They their spleen may vent upon him and he happy, none the less,
They will boast aloud in anger if by Negroes they are crossed,
'If we shoot or kill a Negro, not a cent will be the cost.'

Juries represent the people and their sentiments make known,
When a Negro comes in question there's discrimination shown.
They are bold to make assertion that they will not do the same
For a Negro as a white man, and no feeling comes of shame.

Jurymen have made confession after trial had been made
Of a Negro, and 'He's guilty!' was the verdict there displayed.
Stern remorse so touched the conscience, they the story did relate,
How the verdict they had rendered was to stay the dying fate.

'It was hard to say him guilty, for the man, we thought, was clear.
But a mob was making clamors that were terrible to hear.'
'Punishment or death!' it shouted, and around began to press;
And of two impending evils, we have chosen him the less.

Thus we legalized the lynchers, we their words to court have brought,
And the innocent convicted! how revolting is the thought!
When a mob has forced a jury to a stand against the right,
All the waters of the ocean cannot make the conscience white.

Once a Negro girl was saucy, and the wife the husband told,
Who in haste arraigned the servant and began to swear and scold.
Then he whipped her without mercy—straightway she to law applied.
Passing strange—they found him guilty, and the judge was sorely tried.
This he said, in making sentence, 'No disfavor comes to you,
You have only done as others, or as I myself would do,
If your servants vex the mistress, thrash them out again, I say,
Go to jail ten minutes only, and a fine of five cents pay!'
If a judge is conscientious, then the people vote him out,
His partiality to white men they must know, beyond a doubt.
No equality for Negroes in the law the world must know,
If he fails to make distinctions, from the bench they'll have him go.
Page 45
This injustice is a cancer, in the nation's breast it lives,
Quietly and unmolested, awful is the death it gives.
It results from color-phobia, which the God of right defies,
Slaves of prejudice, take warning! pause before the nation dies.
All the land is running riot, laws are trampled in the face,
Negroes must be law-abiding; whites alone the laws debase.

[...] Read more

poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Billy The Mongolian Whistler

Billy the Mongolian whistler
came to England in 1963.
His whistling was so outstanding,
they put him up a tree.

Now Billy had a bird phobia
especially when they went tweet.
So putting him up a tree was thoughtless
if his phobia he had to beat.

As the first daylight was breaking
and the birds began to tweet.
Billy the Mongolian whistler
instead of whistling began to tweet.

Billy was so embarrassed,
down from the tree he came
and Billy the Mongolian whistler
has never been the same again.

A psychiatrist was called in for Billy,
to see if they could put him right.
But he had returned to the desert
where there isn’t a bird in sight.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Phobia

Phobia

Once in Paris, I was going to a venue reading poetry, the hotelier told me to take
the subway as it was easy. After being a fender for busy people I found my train
and suffocated. First stop, I ran off and found myself at a strange part of the city,
sweating and shaking like d drunk who had been on a bender for a fortnight.
Phobia! I didn´t even know I had one, my pipe dream of being a u-boat captain
had sunk in a hole of terror. My instinct, when lost in a strange place, is to find
the nearest tavern/bars, there are many taverns in Paris it was easy to find one.
I had Pernod, not that I like this drink, but after all I was in France; to blend in
I wore a black beret given to me by a relative of my wife who runs a hat factory
in Lyon, and I had had garlic bread for breakfast. But was unable to lift the glass,
my left hand wouldn´t let me, the right hand blankly refused and pretended to
be lame. Finally hiding, behind the Guardian- an English newspaper for people
who see themselves as liberal socialists-. I gulped down the horrid drink. It did
wonders. So I ordered a whisky, I was a hero, nothing could scare me
as I walked bravely out into busy streets full of people who looked at me as if they
had not seen a beret before, and looked for a taxi.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Xenophobia!

I don’t have French phobe,
African or Persian phobe.
To travel all over the globe,
we have to rid of all phobes.
I don’t have phobia to visit
The Church, Mosque or Temple.
But I feel phobia while seeing
People who brainwash the ignorants to convert
or blackmail the poor to jump to a new faith
at the point of swords or rich awards,
eating buns or modern guns.
When the priests misuse the abodes of gods
and fake sages resort to filth in ashrams,
I want to beat them with cudgels or worn-out slippers.
Do we need brokers between the people and gods
to translate our prayers into a tongue unknown?
I smeared sacred ash on the foreheads
of a French couple in a temple of Lord Siva
and told them the Almighty’s blessings
for that day are theirs!
They were pleased much to have my offerings!
-------------

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Evil is the shadow of angel. Just as there are angels of light, support, guidance, healing and defense, so we have experiences of shadow angels. And we have names for them: racism, sexism, homophobia are all demons - but they're not out there.

quote by Matthew Fox
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Homophobia is gay.

quote by Frank Iero
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The roots of homophobia are fear. Fear and more fear.

quote by George Weinberg
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Homophobia is like racism and anti-Semitism and other forms of bigotry in that it seeks to dehumanize a large group of people, to deny their humanity, their dignity and personhood.

quote by Coretta Scott King
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Well, fear and homophobia are both pervasive.

quote by Kathy Acker
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Meltdown

Unveiled,
the moon will find you
after morose beginning
of becoming – me

Homophobia creeps in,
beyond the condemnation,
the incompleteness.

You walk straight in the arms
of contradiction, confusion
smearing the wall
with your crimson, nihilistic words.

Every other person
a demi – god
stands on your fears, sends whispers
down your ears.

To abdicate the colleagues
of dawn.

SATISH VERMA

poem by Satish Verma
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The Night I Fell In Love

I was backstage
couldn't believe my luck was in
I saw him approach
wearing a most approachable grin
When he said hello
I was surprised he spoke so politely
I said I'd liked his show
Well he just smiled
I guess it happens nightly
and so
I fell in love
We went to his room
he had a video camera
I was so nervous
I had to try hard not to stammer
He said
'I'm glad you liked the show
that crowd was dope out there tonight, alright
You wanna see some more?
Well be my guest
You can have a private performance'
I'd fallen in love
I didn't ask why
though he seemed like such a regular guy
he said we could be
secret lovers
just him and me
Then he joked
'Hey, man!
Your name isn't Stan, is it?
We should be together!'
And he was passionate
I guess I would rate
him a nine out of ten
by then
I'd fallen in love
When I asked
why have I heard so much
about him being charged
with homophobia and stuff
he just shrugged
Next morning we woke
he couldn't have been a nicer bloke
Over breakfast made jokes
about Dre and his homies and folks
Neither of us asked if or when
we would see each other again
but I thought that was cool
'cause Iwas already late for school
by then

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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Garden Partay!

Garden Partay! ! !
Edward Iacona

I know that names of products
May often be ostentatious.
But, I never thought that packs of seeds
Could also be so salacious.

Varieties mentioned here are real.
And, this is what I think;
Many gardeners and farmers
Must enjoy an earthy wink....

To make my point I'll put these names
In quotes or maybe in italic.
And lay aside the obvious view that
Some veggies look quite phallic.

There is no doubt that corn
Is known to be nutritious
But what can one say about a corn
That is named 'Bi-Licious'.

A common trait I'd like to share
From Puberty to my coffin,
Is a link to a certain corn that's
Called 'Early and Often'.

No homophobia amongst the stalks,
Or none that I have seen,
When one considers there are types
Called 'Ruby' and 'Silver Queen'.

There is an egotistical cucumber
Whose statistics really rate.
I shall envy it's bragging rights
As to being a 'Straight Eight'

Virile thoughts of cucumbers
May easily coincide.
When human males at morning
May deal with some 'Early Pride'

There is a carrot called 'Big Top'
But, a cliche I must repeat...
That size is not a factor so
There's another called 'Short and Sweet'

Male prowess proclaims that men
Should try to please and perhaps outlast her.

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Iacona
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Boys In Blue

Kind policemen gently hitting people over the head with their loving truncheons. How sexy they look in their dark blue uniforms and walkie-talkies bristling with efficiency they've got such lovely names like Neil or Robert or Liam I wouldn't mind going behind the bushes with one of them! ! Arrest ME please, let me fondle those crazy handcuffs! Yes, let's have some S&M back at the station. Oooh, take me in your panda car! ! Let's have some body talk in the cells, punching me softly with his song, getting a kick out of my shins, I think you guys are awesome really, always where the action is brave and dedicated, bring back the George Cross and let me kiss your manly black shoes, you'd never hurt an immigrant would you, no I'm not racist I just hate black people and gays and ponces, I've got a mate who's collecting asbos he's got three already and I had fun when I was on community service stealing old ladies handbags while they made me a cuppa for doing their garden! Yeh I support the boys in blue alright don't talk to me about homophobia suck my dangling lily! ! But I don't like criminals, they're getting what they deserve living off our taxes string 'em up, make them work for a living the bloody skiving scumbags! Bring back the death penalty and just give me some peace and quiet to cuddle my policeman! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Creeping Is Of No Intent to Scare

I must warn you that the creeping,
Is of no intent to scare.
I must also say the creaking heard,
On the stairs...
Are from lack of use.
No need to glare at imagined steps...
No one through thin air will be produced.

Relax.
Enjoy.
Would you like a bit of light?
Or a sip of homemade juice.
Hmmm?
Forgive the darkness of my home.
I prefer to view you with my natural eyesight.
Before you are left,
Alone.
Just for a few moments.

Would you like to slip into something more comfortable?

'Yeah!
My car.
It's right outside.
C-ya.
You did say your were eccentric!
But this...
Is too much of a nervous visit.

What in the 'hell' is THAT? '

Why do you wish to leave...
So,
Abruptly?

Prudence?
Prudence?
Where are you?

Did you rub up against,
The leg of our guest?

*Meeeooowww.*

Why are you so naughty?
Hmmm?
Did you detect homophobia?

*Meeeooowww.*

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Index Of Racism For Your Reference

Sexism • Ageism
Religious intolerance • Xenophobia

Ableism • Adultism • Biphobia • Classism
Elitism • Ephebiphobia • Gerontophobia
Heightism • Heterosexism • Homophobia
Lesbophobia • Lookism • Misandry
Misogyny • Pediaphobia • Sizeism
Transphobia

Slavery • Racial profiling • Lynching
Hate speech • Hate crime
Genocide (examples) • Ethnocide
Ethnic cleansing • Pogrom • Race war
Religious persecution • Gay bashing
Blood libel • Paternalism
Police brutality
Race / Religion / Sex segregation
Apartheid • Redlining • Internment
Bigotry • Prejudice • Supremacism
Intolerance • Tolerance • Diversity
Multiculturalism • Oppression
Political correctness
Reverse discrimination • Eugenics
Racialism •
An index of Remedies

Emancipation • Civil rights
Desegregation • Integration
Equal opportunity
Affirmative action • Racial quota
Reservation (India) • Reparation
Forced busing
Employment equity (Canada)
Anti-miscegenation • Anti-immigration
Alien and Sedition Acts • Jim Crow laws
Black codes • Apartheid laws
Ketuanan Melayu • Nuremberg Laws
Anti-discrimination acts
Anti-discrimination law
14th Amendment • Crime of apartheid
Adultcentrism • Gynocentrism
Androcentrism • Economic

We are one big family of Humanity...
Do you have the index of Humanity?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Prejudice, Paranoia And Narcissism

PREJUDICE, PARANOIA AND NARCISSIM

If paranoia can be rationalized
by means of prejudice, if follows narc-
issism has to be an idealized
agenda for a person who's an arse.

Rachel Shukert ("Greased, Frightening, " Tablet,5/11/12) writes about John Travolta:

Well, folks, it's been a big week in gay news. On the good side, President Barack Obama came out in support of same-sex marriage and Anjelica Huston sang on Smash. On the other, the press has been all abuzz over the lawsuit recently slapped on John Travolta by a masseur claiming the star attempted to coerce him into unwanted sexual acts during a session at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Two steps forward, one step back. That's progress, I guess.

Of all the tabloid press coverage on Massage-gate, there are two details that, er, popped up at me. One is the employment of positively J.K. Rowling-esque adjectives regarding the area in question: "solid eight inches … springy" making it sound like Hollywood's second-most famous Scientologist purchased his, ahem, wand straight from Mr. Ollivander's. (It chooses the wizard, you know.) The second is the still-unnamed masseur's assertion of how Travolta explained how he learned to Stop Worrying and Love Transactional Same-Sex Liaisons: By accepting that Hollywood is controlled by "homosexual Jewish men" who expect sexual favors in return for career-related ones….
But back to Travolta: Seen through this lens, it makes perfect sense why the Staying Alive star might articulate what he did the way he (allegedly) did: He posits a homosexual conspiracy to try to convince himself that he's not one (manipulated, sure, but that's what they do) and then tacks on the Jewish part to prove how it's extra sneaky—and impossible to resist.

And yet, I can't help feeling sorry for him in a way I never do for the Gibsons and Gallianos and Rick Sanchezes of the world. If true, it makes for a pretty sad picture to think of one of the biggest, most universally loved movie stars on the planet lying all alone in a hotel suite (and given his well-documented weight fluctuations, the empty chocolate cake wrappers lying on the floor make a particularly poignant touch—I mean, who hasn't been there?) lunging at a masseur's white-jeaned crotch (yes, in my head, he's wearing white jeans) and then blaming a David Geffen-led cabal for his actions when he gets shut down. If every prejudice is the rationalization of paranoia, paranoia is the rationalization of insecurity, and as the prophet(ess) RuPaul (for whom I definitely intend to leave out a custom Absolut vodka cocktail at my next Seder) likes to say: If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else? Internalized homophobia and internalized anti-Semitism are just two sides of the same highly polished and wisely invested coin.
With a single (for the third time, alleged) prejudicial statement, John Travolta has neatly subverted the old maxim about paranoia, and in doing so, the essential emptiness behind prejudice itself. It's not that they aren't out to get you. It's just that "they" is usually "you."

Marc (Tracy?) adds that the fact that Travolta belongs to the conspiratorial Church of Scientology may be relevant:
So the nuts maybe don't fall so far from the tree?

5/11/12 #10169

poem by Gershon Hepner
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So sick of it

I’m so sick of it
Making me feel like I’m sick

So sick of this
So sick of it all

When I finally got sick of it all
I just let it all out, I changed more and more
Explaining it and speaking my mind
Writing it all down on sheets of paper
Explaining why I’m so sick.

I’m so sick of it all
This world, Reality, all this bigotry
Can’t get enough of this
I can’t take it anymore I have to stand up
And fight against this sickness

Battling which is that repeating cycle
Battling Homophobia

I’ve done it so many times
It makes me wonder why I’m so sick

I’m so sick of it
Going threw the same f*cking thing.
Wanting more and more

Realizing it couldn’t ever be real it sadden me
I thought it over and over and then
That’s when I got sick of it.

Got me thinking me of it then reminding myself of reality.
It happened over and over that’s when I got sick.
Making me feel sicker.

Regretting all of the stupid thing I ignored
Remembering I gone threw the same thing before
Anticipating myself 0.99 seconds before the actual thought

I’m so sick of it, all the things that make me sick
All the things I fight against.
Im so sick of it…

poem by Marcellus Watts
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