celebrating and creating our own LGBT history in honour of Sheila McWattie

Archive for February, 2015

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

 

Outside

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

keep

 

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.

 

Now:

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

Compersion

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

Alone

 

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?

 

day eight

Soon there will be bluebells

 

 

All but perfect.

Primrose nestled in the rootwork

of this mellow ash,

backed by holly

and the gentle scent of wild garlic

under the Spring sun warming all –

so nearly all –

but the missing note, I know,

is you.

Just you.

 

 

 

 

Sarah Tait, 43, Ramsgate