Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT June 29th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem A Poem for Pulse by Jameson Fitzpatrick, posted below. 

Our prompt was: “Where will we go?”

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday July 8th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.

A Poem for Pulse by Jameson Fitzpatrick

Last night, I went to a gay bar
with a man I love a little.
After dinner, we had a drink.
We sat in the far-back of the big backyard
and he asked, What will we do when this place closes?
I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon, I said,
though the crowd was slow for a Saturday,
and he said—Yes, but one day. Where will we go?
He walked me the half-block home
and kissed me goodnight on my stoop—
properly: not too quick, close enough
our stomachs pressed together
in a second sort of kiss.
I live next to a bar that's not a gay bar
—we just call those bars, I guess—
and because it is popular
and because I live on a busy street,
there are always people who aren't queer people
on the sidewalk on weekend nights.
Just people, I guess.
They were there last night.
As I kissed this man I was aware of them watching
and of myself wondering whether or not they were just.
But I didn't let myself feel scared, I kissed him
exactly as I wanted to, as I would have without an audience,
because I decided many years ago to refuse this fear—
an act of resistance. I left
the idea of hate out on the stoop and went inside,
to sleep, early and drunk and happy.
While I slept, a man went to a gay club
with two guns and killed forty-nine people.
Today in an interview, his father said he had been disturbed
recently by the sight of two men kissing.
What a strange power to be cursed with:
for the proof of men's desire to move men to violence.
What's a single kiss? I've had kisses
no one has ever known about, so many
kisses without consequence—
but there is a place you can't outrun,
whoever you are.
There will be a time when.
It might be a bullet, suddenly.
The sound of it. Many.
One man, two guns, fifty dead—
Two men kissing. Last night
I can't get away from, imagining it, them,
the people there to dance and laugh and drink,
who didn't believe they'd die, who couldn't have.
How else can you have a good time?
How else can you live?
There must have been two men kissing
for the first time last night, and for the last,
and two women, too, and two people who were neither.
Brown people, which cannot be a coincidence in this country
which is a racist country, which is gun country.
Today I'm thinking of the Bernie Boston photograph
Flower Power, of the Vietnam protestor placing carnations
in the rifles of the National Guard,
and wishing for a gesture as queer and simple.
The protester in the photo was gay, you know,
he went by Hibiscus and died of AIDS,
which I am also thinking about today because
(the government's response to) AIDS was a hate crime.
Now we have a president who names us,
the big and imperfectly lettered us, and here we are
getting kissed on stoops, getting married some of us,
some of us getting killed.
We must love one another whether or not we die.
Love can't block a bullet
but neither can it be shot down,
and love is, for the most part, what makes us—
in Orlando and in Brooklyn and in Kabul.
We will be everywhere, always;
there's nowhere else for us, or you, to go.
Anywhere you run in this world, love will be there to greet you.
Around any corner, there might be two men. Kissing.

 Copyright © 2017 by Jameson Fitzpatrick.

11 thoughts on “Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT June 29th 2022

  1. Patricia d.

    Where will we go when the lights go out?
    Not the electric lights, or the stars, but our own
    Inner light.
    Will we be extinguished?
    Once and for all?
    Who turned the lights on anyway?
    Anyone or No one?
    Maybe, hopefully, the lights will stay on.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. dafnitar

    “where will we go next?” You asked me and I smiled.
    I had no answer
    no party scene worth recommending
    no place as cozy as that tiny cocktail bar tucked away in the corner of the busy street
    But you’d said “we”
    and to me
    the rest didn’t matter.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Rita B

    Where will we go?

    I think, we won’t go anywhere.
    People will come to us if we are inviting and open to learning.
    Through group discussions and informal chats, which are lovingly called “adda” in Bengali,
    We can embrace each other’s ideas and exchange and inhale and infuse and merge and grow.
    Let’s hope!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Melissa Adylia Calasanz C-IAYT

    Narrative Medicine 06.29.2022
    Where will we go?

    Melissa Adylia Calasanz

    in this life?
    next life?
    in movement or imagination
    Where will we go
    an assumption
    who leads
    will they follow
    step by step
    side by side
    single track
    take it to the bridge
    start at the next phrase
    hit your marks
    were will we take it
    on the road
    well then, here we go
    but who sets the tone
    who counts us in
    mark it!
    full out!
    what’s the third count of eight!?!
    where are we!
    to the refrain
    back to the top
    with purpose,
    melissa adylia calasanz

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Where will we go?

    We are at the edge of a rugged cliff with its jagged rocks peeling off, bounding downward without ever hitting bottom
    Our feet teetering at the edge
    We try to balance ourselves,
    but the forces of hate, anger, and distrust keep pushing us forward

    Will we fall off into the abyss of civilization?

    Haven’t we learned anything from those who have come before us… the trail of blood and death left by poverty, slavery, bigotry, bias, racial discord stains the earth
    Summon courage and faith, take a step backward to safety and revive our spirits and souls
    Rediscover our humanity … in this act, we reclaim our home in this universe

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Scarlet Kinney

    Where Will We Go?

    No, don’t ask that question.
    It’s the wrong question,
    For there is no place we can, may, will go
    Where we can escape the misshapen archetypal beast
    Of hate, which has birthed itself again and again
    Throughout time where and when conditions are right;
    Which must, like all life on this wild, spinning planet of ours
    Kill and devour other lives for its own survival
    And it prefers to feast upon lives and souls born of love.

    It’s not a question of can, may, will we escape its reach.
    It’s a question of whether or not
    We dare devour our fear of death at its hands
    So that instead of fleeing,
    We’re able to turn, and face it down,
    For if hate is born of fear as they say,
    The beast will dissolve under the gaze of our strong eye.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Elizabeth

    Hello everyone. I’m not posting today, but I am replying that I want to thank all of you for the writing pieces here. They are very different, yet very powerful.
    Wishing everyone a very happy holiday weekend.
    Elizabeth Wind
    Ps—Scarlet welcome back—you were missed.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Scarlet Kinney

      Yes, I’m so glad I made it to this session. It was very intense, and I wish we had had more time to explore everything it brought up. I’ve regretted having had to miss so many sessions lately, and have missed all of you, too. Hope to see you again on the 8th.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Scarlet Kinney

      It’s a terrifying world we live in, isn’t it, if we look at it straight on, no denial or projection. I appreciate your comment, Michele, because what I was trying to express isn’t easy to do, at least not for me. And it can take one into serious metaphysical terrors if one isn’t careful.

      Liked by 1 person

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