In 2007, Warren Norgaard and John Gilgun co-published
There Is A Tomorrow: A Collection of Dialogues in Prose and Poetry.
Deeply my soul is touched a stare that reaches the far depths I melt upon your haunting gaze which lifts me up to a new realm one of desire and trust beyond the confines of imagination into an era of examination old wounds are healed with but a sound the fire of ecstasy burns my flesh with the sting of a new awakening the lashes strong and sweet opening my consciousness with every stroke widening inner beauty releasing my soul to live at last with heat I feel the seemingly unnatural response I cannot resist with utter abandon my body follows my mind aware only of you my ears open to your silent whisper the world becomes another new shades of color to accent and yet I notice only you my pleasure increases with thoughts of yours I am overtaken open vulnerable unable to speak...yet very aware your commanding soul my only focus I feel your power and know my own very distinct and yet one with the other you speak my mind does not understand the words yet my body reacts immediately my soul reaches to realize the words given "You are mine" the words whispered with confidence my body understands my mind lost in the sound "I am yours" I whisper as I reach the new destination and lose myself completely I am free. -Warren Norgaard
Warm me all over In the heavy leather chairs of his outer chamber With the events that have led you here... Sitting and watching dirty films, slouched in a comfy chair with my little friend dancing about in that warm, mysterious bag... The events that have led you here, As I called my elderly neighbor to make my travels faster (I thought) than the others. The events that have led you here... to the loud ringing of the bells and down among the houses, dusting the trees and children with a soft, silky ash. The events that have led you here... You could see that, to the right, a small pond had collected with the spring rains. -Warren Norgaard
Moments of Ecstasy
While I lay in fold of flannel warmth,
drifting towards a bliss that is sleep,
my dreams begin.
soft, gentle kisses
along deserted beaches
and sizzling sunsets
full of fleeting promises
and softly spoken pet names
You, drifting into slumber,
your head resting on my lap
watching romantic movies
as I run my fingers through your hair
sitting in a provincial little cafe
lost somewhere in Europe,
no cares (in mind nor heart)
holding your hand in mine
and staring into your eyes
As light gently filters back into the room,
and the hassles of life begin to assault my senses
I awake, wrapped not in flannel, but rather
wrapped in you, where I once believed
only my dreams could take me.
I lay awake, entangled in you, smiling, running my fingers through your hair as you slowly begin to wake, and I continue to dream of you. -Warren Norgaard
making love with dali
must have been strange
with bowls of fruit
hands holding dice
being crushed by clouds
falling from the ground
making love with christ
might have been strange
with ten commandments
fully clothed sheep-skin half-truths
hands held out
being crushed by doves
falling from the sky
eating with dali
must have been messy
with broken bottles
seen from the back
melting like clocks
eating with christ
might have been filling
with five loaves and two fish
being kissed by judas
for selling christ's body
playing card with dali
would allow for new rules
dealing the next hand
over the telephone
holding naked half-women
behind a red sky
in the water
in the mirror
playing cards with christ
followed all the rules
with fifty-two cards
and twelve disciples
hands help out
waiting for the women
the passover meal
dying with dali would be a self-portrait apparatus pianos and rotting donkeys crutches early swing music being held by three hands neatly installed into cardboard with a wash basket as a coffin buried into the green sky and returning on minute short of seventy-two hours -Warren Norgaard
Perhaps You Didn’t Notice …
For John Gilgun
"If you ever came on to me I'd probably
melt like an ice cube." - John Gilgun
It's been ten years now.
From 1390 miles away,
We made love. But,
Perhaps you didn't notice.
It was discreet, I'll admit.
Intercourse, through email,
Penetration via modem.
I stripped you naked,
One word at a time,
Kissing your skin
With every keystroke.
We've been going at it For ten years now, As hot and heavy As that very first time. But, Perhaps you didn't notice.Once, I sat across from you In your living room, On your couch, Hugging your pillow To my body As we conversed So passionately.For a moment that night, When your eyes sparkled, Vibrant and excited, And your smile widened Encompassing the room, You were twenty again. We made love in that moment And it lasted for days. But, Perhaps you didn't notice. -Warren Norgaard
Ying & Yang
For Carol Sutton
She is black and white
and had a similar sister
who has disappeared.
We named the other one Ying
and this one Yang.
Yang is now Ying Yang
and is living up to her name.
We never know what to expect
when we walk out the door.
One day, I opened the door
and she streaked by
and by again
and then hid in the bushes.
I came home
and she ran
and hid under the door mat,
peeked out and wiggled her tail
until the kittens jumped her.
When I pet her,
she bats my hand
if I stop petting too soon.
She purrs so loud
you can hear her
across the road.
she dashed out of the bushes,
by the house,
skidded onto the mat,
and instead of going under it,
she rolled it over her
forming a cat taco
And wriggled like crazy.
if you eat a cat taco
it will give you gas)
When we got home just now,
the door mat was half way across the yard,
We recently got a dog.
She is too short legged
to chase cars.
She looks just like a German Shepherd
but with 3 inch long legs.
Ying Yang plays with her
as if she were a cat.
We think the cat is psychotic. -Warren Norgaard
Under A Sunless Sky
Uncertain figures seek each other out in newfound darkness
As hesitant lips touch, unsure of acceptability.
Now, as sunless sky streams through vertical blinds
Spilling lavishly over our warm and shaking selves,
We undress one another, meekly, feebly, carefully.
My palms, perspiring in anticipation, gently reach for you,
Caressing the small of your back, the form of your buttocks.
This body -- your body -- is so foreign to my touch.
Accustomed to different curves, in different places,
Unsure what to do. I am lost in the newness of this experience.
Our tongues meet in rich embrace, lingering in the taste of oral wines.
Passion fills my veins, pulsing hot where blood once flowed.
I bring you close, that you may bear down on me.
Enjoying every moment of your company, in my fear and confusion,
I bring my mouth downward, kissing your neck,
Then north, my tongue begging to probe the depths of your ear.
You squeal with enjoyment, arching your body upward. I am pleased.
Success, it seems, is mine, if only for the moment. You hands
Roam my body, and I lay back to enjoy the warmth of your touch.
My soul absorbs your attentions eagerly, yet cannot succumb fully.
The urges to embrace your sex are overwhelming, and I must act.
Moving southerly, I embrace your manhood, gently, cautiously,
Hesitantly exploring you with my tongue and lower lip.
You are so warm and soft; smooth, rich with desire I cannot resist. With passions bridled no longer, my lust runs strong; and stronger still As I am unleashed wholly upon you, suddenly free of restraint, And enjoying fully the taste of your flesh, every inch. -Warren Norgaard
for Matthew Shepard
Gaybashing Gaybashing Catching up on Gaybashing Anthony in California Plop! Gaybashing Hey! It's me... Gaybashing Hi there... Hi! Never forget - Gaybashing My Own Private Idaho My Own Private Idaho My Own Private Idaho Gaybashing New kid on the block Virus alert! Gaybashing Hum along to some great Gaybashing Clothing Clothing My next door neighbor Gaybashing Anybody know My next door neighbor Gaybashing Story about my next door neighbor Friendships Gaybashing Poor me! Tee Hee! Gaybashing Michael Other nice Hollywood stars Age and the Gaybashing Update on the life and times of Gaybashing All my sins... Hatred of certain "Sluts" and others Gaybashing All my sins All my sins "Sluts" and other Hatred of certain Life is sweet Gaybashing Hatred of Matthew This is so funny Gaybashing This is really cool Gaybashing Try this Gaybashing Joke of the day - Gaybashing. -Warren Norgaard
Inspired By Rob Johnson
And you take me, in your car,
And you drive me, in the night,
To the place you hold so sacred.And the moon shines down on us
And illuminates the valley walls, the rippling tide,
And it is as if the great spirits await your beckoning call,
And they come to life as you press the button on that old radio,
The one you bough in the second hand store for ten dollars,
And the music of the gods spills forth.And you turn to me,
And you take me in your arms,
And you smile.
And you stare at the rippling.... waters,
And you turn to me once more,
And you ask the question,
"Isn't this the most beautiful place you've ever seen?"And I already know the answer.
And I knew it before you finished asking.
And I look to you,
And I pause,
And it is only for your sake that I pause,
And I lean toward you,
And I kiss you upon the lips, oh, so gently,
And I say, "No, it isn't."And it is not. And it is not because this place, At this moment, is not truly perfect, But rather because I have seen What majestic sights hide In the caverns of my mind.
Whispers Of A Lover’s Heart
Written In Fourteen Parts
In my dreams The darkness speaks, And I am not too sure About Fate... She talks to reporters too much.
What am I looking for?
A pair of eyes, not mine,
To bless the darkness...
Soft breaths that whisper
Of "I love you"...
A ring on my finger
And one on his...
And not too high a price.
As I dream...
Do you love me?
Do you want to hug me?
Do you want to hold me tight?
I want to hold you through the night,
So tell me...
Do you love me?
...Your breath, your eyes,
The anticipation of your touch
Intoxicates me ... moves me ...
Motivates me to dream of you
In soft white silk...
The walls start to melt,
The sky shatters, broken glass,
I see eyes there, in the clouds,
And birds, flying upside down.
I am writing to let you now
That is simply does not matter...
That I like my hair short
And I hated those sandals...
That I am as beautiful
As I feel, not as you say.
You taste of warm summer nights
And cool autumn days and
Together we can make the rainbow
And all the birds will bathe in it.
So come with me into the night.
Together we will explore the universe.
This is or time to live, love, and learn.
What is it that your heart desires
That I cannot give to you?
Why is it that you won't allow yourself
To see what I offer to you?
Where is it that you want to go
That I cannot take you there?
When is it that I cannot be
All that you ask, all that I dare?
You tender me such sweet affections
I cannot, but give my heart to you.
You ask that I learn to know you
But oh, that I should know no other than you.
I want to take you, in my arms,
Just the way you are...
And if in some future that will be,
(That "we" have, perhaps?)
You should change into something new,
I will love you just the same...
I will see you as you are,
Not as you seem to be...
I will see you for what you strive
I will love you just the same
If the chance you give to me.
I had a dream last night.
I dreamt we were together,
Touching and feeling each other,
Caressing and tasting each other.
And then I awoke
And it wasn't a dream.
I was with you, and you with me,
Tightly, closely, in my arms,
And you weren't pushing me away.
I felt release in the softness of your skin.
And I dreamt, in daylight hours,
Of touching you until
The world was nothing but dust.
So I am sitting here, Sipping softly of my coffee, Wondering what I'd do without The pain of love, and a fate Whispering loudly to the reporters. Perhaps she'll come talk with me someday And we can sip coffee together. That would be nice. -Warren Norgaard
I Saw You At Golden Gate Park
I saw you at Golden Gate Park or was it last year's DadaFest, or maybe at Cicadia or the MOMA Magritte exhibit or when they did the Threepenny Opera. I might've seen you at the bookstore or that Ethiopian Restaurant on Mission or throwing, clumsily but not ungracefully, a frisbee at North Beach. You would've been reading a book or on your way back from an Indie film, and I didn't talk to you (thought by God I wanted to) because I was with that other guy or you were with that other guy or maybe you looked unapproachable or maybe I was too far away, just checking you out with binoculars, or watching your lovely upside-down image through the camera obscura by the sea. Anyway, I'm trying to find you to say thanks for beautifying my life and maybe she should get some coffee or at least talk about getting it, because I'd love sitting across from your bright intelligent eyes (sometimes they were blue but often brown or hazel and once, when I'll never forget, they were this soft amazing grey) and talking about your job which you either love to death because that's a turn on or else hate so much you devote yourself to other things, and talking about my love of photography and exploring new foods at Cafe Istanbul or talking about people passing by, and how beautiful they might have been to know, and how sad it is (here I'd mention "A Une Passante" by Baudelaire and you'd smile knowlingly, whether pretending to know or not doesn't matter, as long as you'd pretend for me), but in any case talking if about nothing else than about what an incredible coincidence it was, your having seen these words which are, of all the words everywhere, after all about no one else but you, and about the fact that I want another chance, a better chance, a chance at all with you. -Warren Norgaard