Standing Tall Lyrics

This song has meant a lot to me lately.
It is better heard and sung than read, but the words are powerful enough on their own.
Levi Kreis survived the ex-gay movement, came out and has toured with the show Rent, appeared on the show The Apprentice, and put out three albums of his work. This is from his album "The Gospel According to Levi"


The Gospel According to Levi: Standing Tall
Standing Tall
Written by Levi Kreis

Somebody somewhere
Has a long road to haul
Somebody somewhere
Has got a mind to give it all
Lord, won’t you make that someone hopeful
Lord, won’t you make them strong
Cause we all got to stumble
Before we’re standing tall

And I know that it ain’t easy
But there’s a thrill in the fight
If you know where you’re going
Keep your eye on the prize
Your ship is in the harbor
Don’t you doubt that you’re called
Cause we all got to stumble
Before we’re standing tall

And I got this feeling
Way down in my bones
That whatever my dealings
I am never alone
So watch me step over
Watch me walk on
Cause we all gotta stumble
Before we’re standing tall

And I got this feeling
Way down in my bones
That whatever my dealings
I am never alone
So watch me step over
Watch me walk on
Cause we all gotta stumble
Before we’re standing tall
Everyone of us gotta stumble
Before we’re standing tall.

Freedom Beckons

There's this rebellion in me against the ways of this world.
Freedom beckons,
and I find myself leaving the warm morning blanket for an adventure-
Peace to be found, at the end of a night in a strange land, I awake anew.
Here and there I see the world
talk in two voices and wonder whither is this soul of mine?
Whither to, and whether why should be lifted to that question, lest this moment fall apart.

(I just found this poem, with the title "Was on Facebook." I wrote it two years ago for my facebook profile and then forgot about it. What an adventure it has been!)

Queer Calling

They used to call us the shamans, the two-spirited. Entire nations were built on our foresight, our unique non-binary experience, our prophesy.

Now we are shunned for our wisdom. We are told that we must fit into a system bent on more things, on killing nature, and fighting more wars. We are feared for our verdant phrases, our exotic movements, the strange strength of ours which comes from an uncommon source. We have become our own tribe, separated to the detriment of our former fellow-men. Have they forgot their prophets? Or can they only face our terrifying brilliance in short bursts? Are we relegated to the edges to keep the herd moving towards a greener pastureland with our shouts of truth, harsh and pointed?

Pride Week Weep

So I’m terrified that I will not contribute to society through my poetry or academics, I’m scared that I am and will be totally useless. That nobody will notice me or work on things with me, that whatever latent talent I have will not be discovered or put to use. Because I’m a burnt-out student and I hate being a student but it’s all I’ve ever done. It is my claim to fame, the justification of my life as a leech on society, my excess which I feel every time I realize we are being kept comfortable here with blood-oil borne out of the conflicts of elsewheres. I hate this system that I am the creme-de-la-creme of. Fuck it. I want out. I don’t want to do well in it, but that seems to be the impetus everyone else is operating under. So, what do I do from here? I want to be a punk artist or something like that. I hate my life and everything I have worked for so hard so far. Fuck this shit.

I need a new lifestyle.

Christianity is wrong about some things. My faith is deeply, deeply shaken, most of it has slipped away and I am left here questioning most everything. I have no more comfort in a faith. I have a faith in people. But that is a whole lifestyle change. That is a whole lifestyle change. I am no longer who I thought I would be for eternity. I am no longer the golden boy, the one soaring above life’s problems. There is no longer any motivation in that imagery for me now. I have fallen and I like the feeling of the ground. I like rolling in the pine needles and loam, I am grateful to sprawl here unnoticed and unashamed. “I am your gay worst nightmare,” I want to say.

“I am so grateful that you’re still seeking God,” he said, one man who is praying for me now. That makes me angry now. I am seeking some semblance of my former self, I am trying to fit the pieces back together. You didn’t know me then and you don’t know me now.

God seems to be dead. But maybe it is just our naivety that is passing, burning away in its Icarusian passion.

I actually really want to be a man-whore and sleep around and drink and smoke and dance dirty. I want these things on deep and soaringly spiritual levels. I’m going to do these things I’m sure. And You and your parents aren’t going to save me from them. What does that mean about who I am? I am not your golden boy after all. I do not have that worth any more. What worth do I have, then? What other accomplishments can I point to here? There isn’t much I guess. I don’t have many events to plug at C&G meetings. I am only this transforming force. Where is my discipline and form? I am dancing with my boundaries all day, I am totally stretched out and I am not a master of it and won’t be for a very long time. Crazy. Time to sleep—

Morning. Collis café.
I am in mourning of my former self. Good mourning America. Roll in your ashes. Deal with your shit. Feel that sadness, stop running from it. Cruise your soon-to-be-lover and fuck him. Fuck him hard.

Here, in this eating area are the queers and my Christian brothers.

I feel shame. What do I share with these people now? I have to remember that I am in good company. Good company, people who question their faith. It helps to type and not look right at the crazy words I am writing.

I have moved on. I am looking at a time of new friendships, fast lovers, new relationships, new rhythms. Maturity, really. I am mourning my golden boy boyhood. My Christian fantasy. I am in mourning. I should paint my nails black, this part of me has died, my body mind and soul are new. And they are just coming into the light, just drying their wings really, so I’m just sitting here feeling the warmth, knowing that the inevitable will happen and one day I will fly and procreate. But not now. I’m just drying out.