I want to share some of the work of a writer and friend of mine with you.
Waide Riddle
Waide Riddle is a Bradbury, Hemingway, and Andromeda Award-winning author, poet, filmmaker, and proud SAG-AFTRA member. He is a Literary Global Books Award Winner and Finalist for his literary works “Meet Me At Third And Fairfax!” and “The Little Boy In The Little Red Dress.” His short paperback, They Crawl On Walls, is a 2023 Kirkus Book Reviews Pick.
Born in Kingsville, Texas, and raised in Spring Branch, Houston. He now resides in Los Angeles. His poems and short stories are archived at the UCLA Library of Special Collections, the Simon Wiesenthal Center/Museum of Tolerance, the Poets House/NYC, the USC ONE Institute, and the Bodleian Library at Oxford University.
Below are four romantic Gay poems written by Waide Riddle that capture the emotion of Gay Love for Pride Month.
All artwork by Jorge Velasquez
Two Men Kissing
By Waide Riddle
Arousal…
That is what I felt when he kissed me.
His breath reminded me of pine.
Stubble… tickle… sigh
Lips soft and moist…rose petals.
His hair silk through my fingers.
Olive skin… Ocean spray… A green forest
Ice blue eyes… Spring breeze … a summer rain
Natural as sunrise sunset.
His tongue pleasant to my taste.
Body heat… Desert dunes… Fire
Arms encircling…snow fall…
Passion…The city nights.
Lovers. Boyfriends.
Kiss me again and again.
Don’t stop. Lips to ear.
Man to man. Lips to nose.
Face nuzzles face. Lips to neck.
Calm…Peace…Serenity
Two men kissing
Washington Park
By Waide Riddle
Snow swirled and spun. Falling from the gray November sky.
High above the Denver skyline.
Winter has its calm… floating white powder… a white Heaven.
The crystals gently tickle… they pass my nose… frozen on my overcoat.
Washington Park.
Under the gray-white.
The pines with ice-coated bark, a light blue radiance tints it just right.
The cold holds charm, a billowing breeze, the crackling of ice-covered trees.
Fresh powdered snow. The gusts dust me with the frozen glitter.
The snow falls more heavily from above…
He sits next to me on the park bench.
With no words, he hints.
His gloved hand holds mine.
Time means nothing…
He is my Love.
He whispers the most beautiful words, ever so quietly, into my ear.
I listen. I hear his Love.
His head rests on my shoulder.
It’s suddenly warmer than colder.
The bow of his neck is smooth… I love that part of him.
The short trim of his mussed hair.
The hint of the scent of Cool Water lends to this moment.
He is my Love.
From the gray, white and blue… blankets cover the park in brilliant white and blue hues. Washington Park.
With my Love… my muse.
Smoky Jazz on a Sunday Afternoon
By Waide Riddle
2 PM and the restaurant lights are dim.
Waiting for my true love, sipping coffee from a mug, A jazz band plays a sultry smoky tune.
And there he is,
He enters, never too soon.
His Latin looks catch everyone’s attention.
He kisses me.
Then sits.
Assuring me I’m his only intention.
That smooth background jazz, adds to the romance, A bit of pizazz.
He whispers in my ear, my senses shudder.
That smoky jazzzzzzzzz…
All I can do is stutter.
A red wine, white linen napkins, fine china, a gold setting.
A ceiling fan creates a breeze… I am at ease.
He holds my hand and kisses my fingers.
His lips on my mind, linger.
The jazz becomes low key, yet… seriously… steamy.
He is my true love. I have no doubt.
With him I want to make love. Candles and roses. Flowers and gold rings.
I feel like a sunny day!
That smoky jazz surrounds and continues to play.
The restaurant is filled on this Sunday afternoon.
Sun beams melt over us as we slow dance to “Blue Moon.”
I close my eyes, I nuzzle his neck.
Smoky jazz on this Sunday afternoon.
His scent, this moment, when memory, will always loom.
In The Bloom Of The Day
By Waide Riddle
In the bloom of the day I can hear God. I can see His face within yours.
And everything is Good.
And everything is Beautiful.
In the bloom of the day, the blues and purples of sunrise, in the pinks and reds of sunset…
He is there… so are you… and everything is Good… and everything is Beautiful.
I see Him in the dance of stars… your eyes… and in all of the heavens.
I see Him in summer rains and shades of rainbow… you leave me with peaceful thoughts.
In the magic of a butterfly’s flight.
In the color of every season and everything is good in the bloom of the day.
Everything is Beautiful.
I can hear Him in the cool of the breeze… your secret whisper in my ear.
I can hear Him in the crashing of the ocean, the roar of the sea, in the movement of the river.
The trickle of the forgotten brook, stream and creek… so many nuances about you.
In the echo of a cavern and cave.
On a field of dew moist flowers.
In the bloom of the day, everything is Good and everything is Beautiful.
His whisper… your giggle… is in the flutter of the robin and sparrow’s wing.
In the bloom of the day I see Joy. Joy in the golden shine of your eyes.
Joy in the happiness of your smile.
And everything is Good.
And everything is Beautiful.
The Night Elvis Kissed James Dean
andBoth books are available in audio and are narrated by award-winning voice artist Faris Monshi.
To find out more about Waide Riddle, visit
https://www.instagram.com/waideriddle/
https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0725779/
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