ReadOut
by Thomas Blanton

POET PROFILE

Aaron Coleman takes the stage for National Poetry Month

Name: Aaron Coleman (photographed by his partner, David Eduardo Flores Perez).

Age: 51.

Birthplace: Houston.

Occupation: Writer/musician.

Current endeavor: Putting finishing touches on my debut music CD, Phylosoulfree, co-produced by my partner of three years, David, for 2ososproductions, Inc.

Next ambition: To produce and promote local artists.

Inspirations: My mother, Ceola, my partner, David, and my friends.

I am most proud of: Being in recovery from drugs, by the grace of God, which has enabled my self-realization.

What’s next: A spoken-word CD, a second book of poetry (the first, A Little Aaron Coolery, was published in 2000), and poetry readings, just about anywhere, anyone who will have me.

HIV-positive since the mid-’80s, Coleman is a long-term survivor-turned-activist. “I view my disease as a two-edged sword that cuts, both bad and good. I would have never taken as good care of myself as I do now had I not been afflicted.”

Recently, Coleman has directed his talents toward fundraising. A December 2002 event at the historic Kilworth Manor netted $10,000 for the AIDS Foundation Houston. “The artistic component of Houston’s gay community is capable of making an impact. We can come together for a cause.”

Coleman will be the featured poet at the April 9, 8 p.m., program of the monthly In Our Own Write poetry series at the Houston GLBT Community Center.

Thomas Blanton, who organizes the In Our Own Write series at the community center, contributes frequently to OutSmart.

• Poems by Aaron Coleman

WALKING ON WATER

Are we here, cognizant
Or reminiscent of a “Matrix”?
Are we elsewhere?
Is this what we are feeling
Or are we dealing with complexities
And ghosts of our past,
Whom we thought were laid to rest,
But are, in fact, undead
And walking the Earth, this Earth, our Earth,
Amongst us...
Stealing our identities and charging accounts
In our name...
Are we heeding them, feeding them
Our life’s blood?
Vampiric rituals we keep secret
We keep quiet
Dark, damp and dank
At the cost of loss or gain
Pyrrhic victories
Empty glories and allelujahs
Which has got what to do with
Tea in China, and the light bill?
Do you require a “bitch slap”
Or smelling salts?
Absolved of all faults and blame,
Healing begins upon acknowledging sin and shame
And saliently, transcendently
Walking on water, though it be ground

LIKE YESTERDAY

I’m only pretending to be asleep
But I’m watching you
As you get up to relieve yourself
The light captures you...in slices
Like cake so delectable
There’s no need for frosting
I can’t tell which body part I favor....
It’s different on different days
But right now, your thighs are winning
Supple, sinewy, lean, yet muscular
Telegraphing your maleness
To receptors in my groin
Causing my nature to rise and harden
I hope you hurry up in there
Because, suddenly,
I need you....like yesterday

LOVE IS A CUP OF COFFEE

Love is a cup of coffee
Tantalizing, the aroma
Beckoning you to try
At the top of morning
Eyes full of sleep
Nose wide open
Hard
Hard to ignore
Anticipation
At coffee beans being ground
To release their essence

Love is a cup of coffee
Hot
Steam rising, wafting
In the air
Pulling you in
Drowning you
In its black, full-bodied brew

Love is a cup of coffee
Sweet sugar
And lots and lots of cream
Or au natural
Simple
Unadulterated
A jolt to the nervous system
Bringing tears to the eyes
The surprise of
A well-worn shoe
Feeling comfortable on you
No fuss
And good to the last hot.....drop!

(for David) aaronssongs @3/17/03

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