celebrating and creating our own LGBTQ+ history in honour of Sheila McWattie

Archive for February, 2015


day eighteen


day seventeen



Glimpses of moments running in the park

Holding, gripping hands

Of deep solid want

Or love?

In the darkness


Chewing gum.

Intense mind.

Listening to his every move

Every thought of the

next action

The next gift of



By surprise

Chest fast


Emotion to physical.

Desperate to

See you

Hands on you

Suck the tongue out of me.

Do you always play

The hurt

The hurting

The needed


It makes you cuter



You couldn’t bare that I couldn’t gift you it.

Only left

With the same beats

That sent us to sleep on the carpet tucked away in a strange central line

London flat.

Me? Years later still

Left forever sleeping

Outside your bedroom door in halls

While you fuck some trade.


Left forever waking

Outside your bedroom door in halls

Taking my danced off ass

To the 2pm daylight streets.

The docklands waters

So quiet on New Year’s Day.


For myself now

A gift, a shiny new place.




Adam Lott, 35, Kent






day sixteen- 16 February 2015



day fifteen – February 15, 2015

2014-12-02 22.38.45-2

day fourteen

London Vegan Valentine


On the plane

On the train

In the rain

You and me

Arm in arm

Ambling along Sloane Square

You, red boots, yellow brolly, stripy hat

Me, silly grin, windmill hair


In the Saatchi gallery

We wander in different directions

Me, wondering who the hell called this stuff art

Yet trying hard to look all cultured

You, falling in love with Dana Schutz’s ‘Singed Picnic’

Then telling me to hurry up because the rest is crap


On the train again

Trying to get to Barbican

Going the wrong way around the circle line

Me, falling over in some snobby woman’s lap

Her, not happy

You, thoroughly amused


In the rain again

Running down a lane called Cloth Fair

Spilling into London’s first vegetarian Italian

I order sparkling red wine for the first time

You order the world’s tastiest tempura


Russell Square

At our favourite bookshop

You say: ‘One book each and no more’

I snigger and pick up four:

Quentin Crisp, Amy Bloom, Claire Dowie’s book of plays

And a history of Club Gateways


In the transport museum

You buy me the London Underground Game

I try to kiss your mouth and miss

Because you try to kiss my nose



Kissing in the rain

I accidently push you off the pavement

Then almost lose an eye

When your crazy brolly blows inside out


Later, in Covent Garden

Sitting side by side

Eating piping lentil soup:

We pull our stools together

Bump elbows

And laugh.



Lynsey Calderwood, 36, Sudbury, Suffolk

day thirteen



Enough time to thaw, delayed hours waiting platform chill, tipped over to tears, en route to a place called home enough, to be glad to leave.



JJ, 50, Brighton

day twelve

Have It Their Way


Judged and guilty of fornication

You’ve been condemned to hell’s damnation,

Caught in bondage, tied in rope

Heaven’s gates are beyond hope.


Don’t risk being shunned for being gay

Just shut yourself down, watch what you say,

Don’t wear whatever turns you on

Fear the thugs and religion’s con.


Don’t walk the path you feel you should

Swap good for bad and bad for good,

Stand on high ground, judge the others

Forget they are your sisters and brothers.


Sexy thrills are just depraved

Don’t be yourself, it’s ill behaved,

Always fear what others may say

And lurk in the sump of Sanity Bay.




Have It YOUR Way!


Why not have a thrill a day,

Be sexy, daring or downright gay?

Oh, to live life free from fetter

But sometimes handcuffs can be better!


Fear not the judgement and disdain

Of those who’d wish us hate and pain.

Hearts, fly free and swift as a dove

The God I understand is love!


So what’s the harm in a bit of bondage?

A slight rope burn might need a bandage.

A bit of play with a teacher’s cane

Hardly writes one off as insane.


Get hit with pies and covered in soup

Followed by custard and spaghetti hoop,

Life is more than just to survive

Make others smile ‘cause you feel alive!


The erotic love of being gay

The sacred beauty of same sex play,

To wear the clothes that turn us on

Go, live YOUR life, be glad you’re born!



Katie Bainbridge, 46, Penzance, Cornwall

day eleven

Always proud to be beside you

my fearsome friend


Your celtic lilt took us from lamp post to

the end


of the road…to the trees…to the lights

just don’t stop


Pick up your feet, just



Running with all that Pride

Smile wide


Sweat dripping,

Hearts ripping


from chests large and small,

room for us all


To Stride with true Pride



Amber Timlett, 39, Kent

day ten

Long Distance Lovers

Four Years Ago:

That day, I felt giddy with fear,

That time to see her, was almost here,

Stepped off the train, into her arms,

Frog in my throat, sweat on my palms.


I can’t believe it’s her, her in the flesh,

I don’t know what to say, my mind a mess,

I stutter, I stammer, I struggle to find the words,

She smiles, she laughs, she gently calls me a nerd.


Soon after the train we are in the pub,

Getting used to this long distance lovers club,

Making the time count, each moment essential,

People around us, thinking we are mental.


The first weekend over before it’s even begun,

But in that time we had so much fun,

Only a weekend, one night in all,

It didn’t take long for my heart to fall.



People ask us, how has our love survived?

People ask how has our relationship thrived?

It’s easy we say, smiles on our faces,

Love has no bounds, even when we are in different places.


The miles between us do not matter,

When we see each other, our hearts pitter-patter,

We have that spark; it’s the real thing,

We even recently just got the rings!


The distance hurts; I can take it no more,

Sometimes we struggle, our hearts so sore,

Saying goodbye, so soon after hello,

Do you have to leave, do I have to go?


Soon we will be out of the long distance lovers club,

But with no regrets, it’s how we found our love,

So until I can sleep in her arms every night,

I will keep on calling to wish her a goodnight.


Keturah Watts, 23, Kent

day nine


by Majikle


My girlfriend is a warm wide sea

Where other people swim, as well as me.

Her rising tides bring such unseemly bliss

That even if I could deny them this,

Why would I?


Capitulating to her insistent waves

Steals us away to exciting nights and carnal days.

The roll of her storms are exhausting but,

They take us further than we’ve ever got



My lover’s love is deep cleaning for the mind and skin

There is room for everyone to just dive in.

Her briny buoyancy holds our bodies up

In gravity defying, floating open sup

Of generosity


So if I chance to hear her mermaids call

As someone else unburies her treasure haul

Even if I can’t share those salty kisses

Who profits from her happinesses

But me?