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

Archive for the ‘press/media’ Category

day twenty three

A Winter Scene

The snow had fallen layer upon layer and the frozen street had become a dance floor for high spirited, smiley, happy, rosy red cheeked people who glided over the ice as if their feet were a brush and the ice a canvas.
Whirling and turning, twisting
and swirling, each round and round the other.
Sliding then bumping, laughing, emitting their long vaporised breaths.
Wriggling brightly coloured scarves appeared to take on life-forms of their own.
The old lady peered out of her window overlooking this scene.
Sixty five years earlier she had painted her picture with her feet on an earlier canvas of ice. Suddenly, time dissolved and she became part of the picture.

 

 

 

 

Jenny King

Deal

Kent

day seven

 

A death, a friend gone too young,

Words left behind – treacle if she were living,

But poignant given her age.

You are sad, and distant, cold to me,

Because of the calamity of our relations,

Before the wake we speak and you say,

I don’t think I love you any more.

 

I am stunned, but not surprised,

Tempestuous is the word for us,

Blowing up and out and all about.

Your temper, my critique,

And I have fantasised about being alone,

Many times.

 

But I won’t be alone will I?

I’ll have two teenage sons to raise,

A demanding job,

One son home-ed because of his inherited,

Personality. What’s best?

Two of these types, or one?

Better to focus on my son?

Or shall I keep pushing through my fourteen hour days whilst,

Keeping the peace, hiding my critique,

And fantasising about a home that isn’t shabby,

Flabby, grubby and worn.

A home in which only I take pride,

And you deride – I don’t mind that hole in the wall.

Deferred that shit onto me I see,

Your most rigorous quality, deferral of responsibility.

 

My new journal states,

‘I am what a feminist looks like’

I cried at this gift,

It felt like a slap, a wake up girl.

You have compromised your world.

 

 

 

Anon, Thanet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

day eleven

Protest in Numbers: by Adam Haylock-Lott, Kent

21 is my daughter

19 is my son

14 is my nephew

7 months is my baby

47 is my husband

I am 38.

The greatest protest?

Live life 

how you 

were not supposed to.

Defy

Couldn’t be.

Write

New blueprint.

Destroy

The dad box.

Marry

A man.

Have

Babies!

Build 

Family!

18.

Me.

zeros.

forever.

Life.

No.

numbers.

Living daily my protest quest for life

= a love multiplied 

Me

Became

Us

And us

Became a picture

Worth….

….a thousand words.

 

disability arts

http://www.disabilityartsonline.org.uk/febulous-februarydisability

DIVA article by Sheila McWattie

http://www.divamag.co.uk/category/arts-entertainment/celebrating-febulous-february.aspx

Link

G Scene promotion – Sheila McWattie

G Scene promotion – Sheila McWattie