A blog about LGBTQ+ History, Art, Literature, Politics, Culture, and Whatever Else Comes to Mind. The Closet Professor is a fun (sometimes tongue-in-cheek, sometimes very serious) approach to LGBTQ+ Culture.
Friday, January 31, 2020
The ER
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Isabella and the Move
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
Mostly Moved
Tuesday, January 28, 2020
I Cannot Sing
I Cannot Sing
by Edward Nathaniel Harleston
I cannot sing, because when a child,
My mother often hushed me.
The others she allowed to sing,
No matter what their melody.
And since I’ve grown to manhood
All music I applaud,
But have no voice for singing,
So I write my songs to God.
I have ears and know the measures,
And I’ll write a song for you,
But the world must do the singing
Of my sonnets old and new.
Now tell me, world of music,
Why I cannot sing one song?
Is it because my mother hushed me
And laughed when I was wrong?
Although I can write music,
And tell when harmony’s right,
I will never sing better than when
My song was hushed one night.
Fond mothers, always be careful;
Let the songs be poorly sung.
To hush the child is cruel;
Let it sing while it is young.
Monday, January 27, 2020
Thank You
Sunday, January 26, 2020
Training
For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. (KJV) ( 1 Timothy 4:8 )
Do you have a regular exercise routine that you follow? We all know the benefits of strengthening our muscles, burning off fat, and building up our heart. Do you also have a regular faith routine you follow? The benefits of strengthening our faith are much greater than anything else because the effects are eternal. If you find yourself without a routine or have fallen out of schedule, start one. Pick out some reading plans in the Bible, write daily in a prayer journal, meditate, pray. Whatever you choose, make sure you train for godliness.
Saturday, January 25, 2020
Friday, January 24, 2020
Thursday, January 23, 2020
Nothing
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
Friends
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Hot Tub
Hot Tub
Miguel Murphy
A tryst.
That ends
in a nightly dose.
A contradiction,
emptiness
refused by starlight,
the dark
enflamed with error.
Tell me again
what crime you are
so guilty of?
The hot tub,
26 Seconal—
the moon
like ejaculate.
Delicate.
Poor
Barlow,
you felt
so alone;
you were
the only queer.
January 1, 1951.
In the semantics of
your translation
you intend, in Náhuatl
a long while,
to abandon
your cadaver.
There.
About This Poem
“Robert Barlow, aged 16, was either the 43-year old H. P. Lovecraft’s lover for a summer in 1934, or just his disappointed protégé, who in his own middle years would overdose on Seconal after a student threatened to expose him for being that medical monster of the age, a homosexual. The diagnosis, the name of the disease. In 2019, I sit in my hot tub, but the freedoms of this era feel illusory. A single pill a night makes a frightening plague a kind of historical footnote. Such starlight. The backside of the century.”
—Miguel Murphy
Monday, January 20, 2020
Packing
Sunday, January 19, 2020
Endurance Is
How do you handle unsolicited criticism? Does your pride get hurt after you've done your best and still are scoffed at? How do you handle criticism from other Christians for doing the will of God? Yes, it's difficult. But you need to carry on with a patient endurance. This endurance you can surely draw from your faith to overcome any criticism.
Saturday, January 18, 2020
Friday, January 17, 2020
Captain Kirk
Thursday, January 16, 2020
The Eyes Have It
Wednesday, January 15, 2020
Sleeping In
Tuesday, January 14, 2020
A Winter Night
Monday, January 13, 2020
The Gay History of the Loire Valley
Sunday, January 12, 2020
Delivered
Do you ever feel the weight of your burdens and fears pressing down on your shoulders? Do you carry it around all day with you? Turn your heart to God and pray to Him. Hand Him your stressful thoughts and worries, He will carry your burden for you. After you've prayed, stop worrying and release them. Your Heavenly Father will watch over you.
Saturday, January 11, 2020
Friday, January 10, 2020
Free of Pain
Thursday, January 9, 2020
Migraine
Wednesday, January 8, 2020
Tuesday, January 7, 2020
On Snow
On Snow
Jonathan Swift - 1667-1745
A Riddle
From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin.
No lady alive can show such a skin.
I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.
Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare.
Though so much of Heaven appears in my make,
The foulest impressions I easily take.
My parent and I produce one another,
The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother.