Thommie's Flaws

Flaws… we all have them.

Nieve —

  • Tue. Oct. 20th, 1992

We were young — nieve,
innocent enough to beleave,
we were important enough to make a difference.
We were hungry — makeing our liveing from erotic dance,
Money —
bought our company — not our loyalty.
Licquor, drugs, made us easy,
Love, made us free.
Music gave us rythem a path to follow —
a chance at being something, someone better tommorrow.
A few of us found our way.
Fewer still survived “yesterday”.
We were stars in our own right,
We were something special under the spot-light.

– End –


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posted under Dancing, Drag | No Comments »

Dry up —

  • Sat. Oct. 17th, 1992

Tears fall — dry up — fall again,
in a poor attempt to wash away a poor whores sin.
Soap & water wash away the smell —
tears fail to wash away the “Hell”.
Money is money —
It no longer matters to me,
who I did to get it.
My tears won’t allow me to forget.
I’ve tried to break the cycle,
of bull,
But I need their touch,
as much,
as they need (or want) me,
no matter how dirty,
it makes me feel,
if only for an instant thier affection is real.
Tears fall — dry up — fall again,
in a vain attempt to wash away a poor whores sin.

– End –


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I stand in silence —

  • Sat. Oct. 17th, 1992

I stand in silence —
wittness to untolded violence.
A young boy dead —
a single bullet in his head.
Gang wars — someones territory,
His family will tell his story,
as T.V. cameras show his tiny body over & over.
Yet he’ll be forgotten like last years lover.
Blood will mark the spot,
where a nine year old boy was shot,
until the next heavy rain.
It won’t however wash away the families pain.
Drugs have become —
a main sorce of income,
for this nieborhood,
that for so long has understood,
only poverty.
like you, WE —
don’t always see —
What happens when WE fail to educate?
Do we then pull guns ourselves in an effort to eradicate,
a problem we all helped by forever turning away.
What do childless ex-mothers have to say?
How many homeless must die,
before we look these problems in the eye —
& say NO More!
How many drugs will be sold on your street corner.
Just how many children are we willing to bury?
This isn’t a their problem, this is a burden we must all carry.

– End –


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posted under Children, Death | No Comments »


  • Mon. Oct. 12th, 1992

Why this stolen line from “Blondie” —
it fits me.
“When you saw me in a reasterunt,
you could tell I was no Debutante.”
What did you see?
as I sat drinking my 12th cup of free coffee.
Sure I’m on the roam,
with no true home,
but don’t pity me,
don’t even worry.
I’m strong, I maybe down, but I’m not beat.
Like an ally cat, I always seem to land on my feet.

Feel free to sit with me,
feel free to talk to me,
When I walk —
I seldom get the chance to talk.
When I’m back in the rate race,
perhaps then you’ll even be able to look me in the face.

The sun is rizeing,
the day is freezeing,
like some cunningly crazy fox —
I’ll make my way to my hidden box.
to shiver — sleep away,
the day.
To dream of the night,
where again I’m hiden from your sight.

– End –


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Dressing in drag —

  • Sat. Aug. 22nd, 1992
  • Mon. Oct. 19th, 1992
  • Sun. Feb. 21st, 1993

I’m createing perfection,
applying a layer of foundation,
Createting fantasy,
bringing to the surface the inner me.
Mascara giveing me lashes from “Hell”,
Tucking myself away, in a manner I’ll never tell.
to make my eyes seem brighter,
As I apply my blush,
I take a drag on a .15¢ cigar, I’m in no rush.
Powdering my nose,
then slipping into, silk, sheer, black hose.
My lined lips a shinny shade of virgin cherry red.
I shake & toss my head,
& my hair,
falls into place, as if I’ve spent an hour of carefull or more in expert care,
to get just the right style.

I (she) smile.

Putting falsies into my padded bra,
then slithering into a leather gown, sure to surprize all.
I allow myself a finial spin,
before stepping in,
a pair of 7″ spikes in blue.
there’s nothing else left to do,
Except remind myself this isn’t real,
no matter how good, how silly—how right it may feel.
In the morning this will be,
nothing but a fadeing memorie,
& I’ll have me,

not “she”.

Yet tonight as I walk about the bar,
for a brief while, “She” is the star.

– End –


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posted under Best, Drag, Fantasy | No Comments »

I’ll always —

  • Sat. Aug. 1st, 1992

There are so many things I’ll never do —
so many places I’ll never see —
But I can always say I loved you,
& you loved me.
I’m going away soon forever,
to see & do some of the things I’ve dreamed of.
Our time together is over.
I will never regret our love,
You say,
You must stay,
while I,
wish to tough other parts of the sky.
Time & laughter will heal the pain,
Never feel like you loved me in vain,
While our paths merged only for awhile,
it was with you I learned to smile.
There are stars in my eyes,
you put them there.
We must each live our own lives.
With others we will share,
the times we had,
We may meet again,
so don’t be sad,
or pass on the chance to let a new love in.

Thank you so very much,
for if there is truely such,
for your love.
I’ll always keep you above,
any others in my heart & dreams.
For as wierd as it seems,
this that I do,
I will always do, just as I will always be “in love” with you.

– End –


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posted under Love | No Comments »

Time will tell —

  • Sun. Oct. 11th, 1992

I’m always dreaming of tommorrow,
alone in my sorrow.
Afraid of today,
unsure how to walk away.
not deed,
has kept me —
from being free.

Its as if I long,
to correct some unseen, unremembered wrong.
To feel wanted,
if only for awhile,
to make someone else smile,
then I could be alone again…
atoned for some unknown sin.

Time will tell…
if I’ve done my job well.

– End –


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posted under Best, Love | No Comments »

A single tear—

  • Thu. Jun. 11th, 1992
  • Sun. Oct. 11th, 1992
  • Sun. Oct. 11th, 1992
  1.  I reach out to touch the sky —
    to feel the clouds as they cry
    Alone in my tower,
    trying to reach out to touch my higher power —
    Lightning flashes —
    thunder clashes —
    as I stand in silence here,
    holding back a single tear.
    A world away,
    I heard someone say,
    April showers —
    bring May flowers.
  2. Is there still some Grand Design,
    or has God decided to simply resign.
    Hunger, seemes to be everywhere,
    Death, is always there,
    Hate, seems to rule,
    while Love, is played for a fool.
  3. Wars kill a bit of everyman,
    fighting in some forein land.
    Down the tears fall,
    soaking us one & all.
    Lightning flashes —
    Thunder clashes —
    as I like so many more stand in silence here,
    holding back a single tear.

– End –


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posted under Crying, Death, War | No Comments »

Force myself to open the door—

  • Sat. Jul. 18th, 1992
  • Sat. Jul. 18th, 1992

I never wanted your love, never wanted your touch,
I never needed anyone as much,
as I need you.
I’m being pulled in two,
I want to stand alone,
face life on my own.
Yet when I look into your eyes, I’m filled with false hope,
that there could be a future for us — at the end of my rope.
You terriffie me—
Your eyes can see right through me.
I never wanted to love you — or let you feel my touch —
I only wanted to tantalize —
You were a surprise.

I only wanted to get warm for awhile—

to see if I could make you smile.
Emotions came on so strong—
to late I realized what went wrong.
I really wanted to love you — not break free —
I’d wanted to leave you wanting more —
Yet watching you sleep, I can’t force myself to open the door.
You got in where I wanted noone,
now I’m powerless to even run.
I never intended to feel this way —
I didn’t want to stay.

You were to fall for me — not me for you.
My words are true —
a real first — I hope you understand —
I want to … but I can’t release your hand.

I know that when the alarm rings,
you’ll still know none of these things.

I had to say them…

in you I found a true gem…
I built this wall —
& now I can’t even run down this Motels hall.
In times to come I will again play this game —
in some perverted hope that in the morning you’ll remember my name.

– End –


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Something that must find me—

  • Sun. Feb. 23rd, 1992

I’m moveing along,
doesn’t matter what street,
none are right or wrong.
As long as I have strong feet.
I’ve worn myself out here—
looking for something that must find me.
I’m keeping the memories, that have become dear.
It’s nearly time to go—
I will think of here often in dream.
I’ve got to see whats beyond tommorrow,
though it seems—
I’m running away,
I’m only looking for something that must find me.
Something that won’t if I stay—
perhaps somewhere new, closer to the sea?

– End –


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Thommie’s Flaws is the unedited and long overdue transcription of an anonymous, wayward journal that details the mindful, early 1990s poetic deliberations of a twentysomething gay man.  Perhaps it will bring you a knowing nod, or even a smile.

Thommie, if you’re out there: please get in touch.

XO – The Editor