James Schwartz entered his journey into life on February 19, 1978 and was raised in the Old Order Amish community in South West Michigan.
James Schwartz is a poet and slam performer striving for the simplicity of Cavafy mixed with modern gay wordplay and elements. Schwartz’s poetry/slam material dialogues of GLBTQ issues and affirmations of gay night life and love.
James is the author of several poetry chapbooks including The Scarlet Band And Other Poems (2005). Schwartz’s poetry publications include:
- Poetry Life And Times – U.K.
- Michiana’s Rainbow Gazzette – P-FLAG
- Outside The Lines – Australia
- Babel: The Multilingual, Multicultural Online Journal
- The New Verse News, Queer Magazine Online
- Caper Journal
- LGBT ASYLUM NEWS
- Poem2Day
- Poets For Living Waters
- Love’s Chance Magazine
- All Poetry Is Prayer Anthology
- Men Shall Know Nothing Of This: A Space To Think – U.K.
- Good As Gay.com.
As a slam performer Schwartz has read at The Meta Cafe, This is Fire! The Zoo Bar and the St. Joseph County MI., Democrats Inauguration Day party of President Barack Obama. He is also Author of The Literary Party: Growing Up Gay And Amish In America (inGroup Press 2011).
A taste of his Queeraspoetry:
“Slundered“
Lumber forth from your slumber.
With Frankenstein roars of confused fear.
Do not return here, Slundered.
Unshackle the chains that bind you here.
Follow the music of the night.
Pulsing with lights from within the city.
Wallow with the children of the night.
They will bind your wounds with pity.
They will sooth with electronic song.
They will pay for another round.
They will right your robotic wrongs.
We lumber forth when the speakers pound.
So stumble round the final bend.
I will be waiting for you, my friend.
“Neon Faces“
For a long time and many years
I wandered the world never finding home
Meeting nothing but forgettable lives
Writing jaded memories in a blue poem.
For a long time and many years
My broken spirit remained unsung
I grew to love the dark shadows
And my name on the gossips’ tongue.
And I grew tired and I grew weary
My broken spirit remained unsung
My words were blue and broken
And my portrait remained unhung.
For a long time and many years
Sorrow and grief darkened my core
Writing empty recollections in a blue poem
Until I knocked upon your door.
And love answered, drawing me inside
And love swept me away in raver embrace
And love sung my freed spirit’s song
And love kissed my neon face.
His blog http://literaryparty.blogspot.com/
Follow him on twitter @queeraspoetry
Subscribe to his youtube channel http://www.youtube.com/user/queeraspoetry