gay

The Psyche of a gay Muslim By Bashir Al-hamim for my friend

I first saw him and was struck by his soulful eyes, he a round melancholy face
He wore an 80’s porn star style moustache back in the 50’s
He was the silent type never talking always observing the world
He was a fierce man of passion; we loved but never committed the act of love with me
He was afraid he’d burn in hell for being true to himself
He was drinking Coco in Paris when I first saw him, ahh those round brown lips
I think back to that moment and repeat to myself on how beautiful he was
Once a year for forty years we met in this small musty smelling café and loved
He was a poet of sorts a fellow truly never at home in this world
For years we always stayed in a damp cold hotel, for years I begged him to hold me for years he refused, but he did love me thou he never spoke the words
When we first met he was a chain smoking fool with suicidal thoughts

I think I've finally found the phrase that identifies me, at least with regards to the kinda guys I go for. According to part 3 of the Gay Muslims documentary, I would be a "Mohammed queen". (Similar to how a white guy who likes East Asian guys is called a "rice queen" and a non-white guy who likes white guys is called a "snow queen.") I feel like my ideal lover and life partner would be a guy who identifies as Muslim and practices the faith (or, at least, shows some genuine love/affection for it).

I am currently enrolled in a class at a university. It is Islam. I had my doubts at first, but one day, when we all were in class and I was listening to a Recitation of the Holy Qur'an, it felt like a burst of light and joy was coming from my heart. I literally had no idea what was going on, but I let myself feel it. I had tears streaming down my face, and it we were only about ten minutes or so into it, and the Sura was finished. The professor was done giving the example.