Ceilidhs – Skirtingroundmylife

Belle Of The Ball

There is no escaping the fact that I’ve been inspired by LGBTQ History Month, so inspired in fact that I’ve written this poem on topic of dancing especially to commerorate the event. I’ve deliberatly written it from the point of view of two mature women one of whom may be a transwoman, becoming romantically involved after meeting at a dancing class. I’ve given it the title Belle Of The Ball I hope you enjoy the read.

Belle Of The Ball

my partner birls me round the floor
I’m feeling apprehensive
she told me relax
as she takes me in hand
and whispers something io
says she knew that I was just the right type
she would teach the steps and the twirls
from that moment on
I gave her my trust
I knew she liked dancing with girls

Of course she’d been married
for most of her life
the respectable types
always are
she knew she liked women
she had since her teens
though she thought it a step too far
as she taught me to waltz
as a women should do
and to tango the
Argentine way
we kissed under stars
and got in to the grove
our desires had come to play

she told me her daughters encouraged her
to take up dancing lessons
the youngest one said she should talk to the priest
and maybe start going to confession
it’s just in case you meet a man
who gets you all excited
or maybe do what Katie did
like kiss a girl and like it.

my dancing partner smiled at the thought
as her youngest daughter blushed
I’ll just see how it goes she said
and enjoy some fun filled lust
her daughters thought that we were friends
until they saw us kiss
in ways that only women know
we shared some midnight bliss

She told them all it’s my time now
it’s time to take a chance
your dad would be so proud of the fact
I taught this girl to dance
he knew I had my tendencies
and the passions I kept at bay
he said that I should dance with girls
if that was nature’s way

As its if he was giving his blessing
she told me as we danced
she’d waited all her life for this
we had to take the chance
a woman knows what a woman knows
and she knew what to say
I felt like the belle of The ball that night
and we danced to the break of the day

Skirting Round My Life 2020 My Year On The Blog

As I look back on the events of 2020 I have to say that it wasn’t the year I or anyone expected it to be. These past 12 months have been like a rollercoaster ride for us all and this has been reflected in Skirting Round My Life as it has in every blog, journal , magazine or other news outlets.

On looking at the statistics it’s been a game of swings and roundabouts as to some extent it always is in the blogging world. While there has been progress with the number of both comments reaching record levels it is offset by the fact that there was a drop in overall page views.

The first thing to say that Skirtingroundmylife gained 3, 018 views in 2020. This represented an drop of 7% from it’s 2019 total of 3,262. Though naturally disappointed with the drop I am not in the least bit surprised as the national lockdown caused by the Covid19 pandemic was bound to have some impact on the blog. Yet despite the challenging circumstances this has been a year of only slight decline with average views down to 7 views per day compared to 8 in the last two years.

This I think was due in no small part to lockdown though the fact I didn’t promote certain poems anywhere near as much as I should also contributed. This is something I will work towards improving in 2021.

That said there is one area where has been noticeable growth is in the number of posts published which rose from 88 to 98 in the last twelve months. It can also be said that the number of both visitors to the site and comments on posts are both up with the later more than doubling from 8 to 28, and likes increasing from 74 to 83

Topics covered in the last twelve months included Age, Birthdays, Bisexuality, Bullying, Childhood, Christmas, Coming Out, Ceilidhs, Concerts, Covid19, Dancing , Dating, Death, Disability, Discrimination, Equality, Family, Faith, Fashion, Gratitude, Kindness, Lockdown, Love, Lingerie, Memories, Mental Health, Poetry, Relationships, Role Models, Secrets, Social Distancing, Stereotypes, The Broga Frois, Transition, Transphobia, Transport, Visibility, and last but not least Football

2020 saw a slight dip in my global reach as visiting nations were slightly down from 34 in 2019 to 31 last year. The top five countries were UK , USA, Ireland, Canada, and Australia, With New Zealand, Spain, Turkey, Iraq, and Germany, making up the top ten. There were also readers from countries including South Africa, The Netherlands, Belgium, Finland, Argentina, Norway, and much to my astonishment Guadalupe, Yes readers my words reach glamorous places.

As all the statistics have now properly evaluated it is time to bring this review to its conclusion but before I do so I just want thank all my readers. Whether you subscribe to the site or read the posts on social media sites like Facebook or Twitter it doesn’t really matter, the main thing is that you read them and find them entertaining, enjoyable , thought provoking and maybe in some cases challenging. I really hope you’ll continue to do so as that’s what makes blogging so enjoyable for those us who put our opinions out there on the blogosphere for you to read. So all that remains is for me to wish you A Happy, Successful, and Peaceful New Year and I hope you’ll keep skirting round my life throughout 2021 and beyond .

Till next time

Gayle X

Saturday Ceilidh

This poem was written after a chat with my friend and award winning traditional musician Paddy Callaghan. In it, I look at my teenage Saturday nights and show how the early part of those nights shaped my interest in and love for the traditional music scene both in Scotland and beyond. I’ve titled it Saturday Ceilidh I hope you enjoy the read.

Saturday Ceilidh

In my teens I reached that stage
when Saturday nights were made for dancing
even for those who couldn’t dance
though I loved the songs in the charts
I was slowly but surely developing
a passion for the traditional music
of my country
it was on this voyage of discovery
I learned stories of clearances emigration and war
and that Scotland had not always
been tied to the yoke of union
but fought to preserve our freedom.
till nobles took the bribe
from the Glasgow of the Barras and Red Clydeside
I learned songs of protest and humour
and the story of the rumour
is the greatest monologue ever told
comedy gold crafted with subtlety
I heard tales of the drudgery
of the workers lot
and the way they were told by McDonald and McGinn
made entertaining listening
my feet resisted the temptation
to tap along to Jimmy Shand
I’m sure the laird would understand
my reluctance to the learn the steps
of the jigs and reels
though I appreciated the music
that was played in my Saturday Ceilidh
where I heard every Glen Daly track bar the one I now hear at Paradise
and the Irish songs that made it past the censor
with bits of England, Canada and America
occasionally added to the mix
from 6 till 8 on Saturdays
in the days when I listened to music
to escape from football chat
and the Saturday night TV
I never wanted to watch

Duality

This poem is one of a number I’ve written recently on the theme of music. In this case I look at the traditional music scene which has always been a big part of my life and in particular I look at the Bohga Frois which though a relatively new addition to the Celtic Connections Calender is I think an event of huge cultural significance. I make this statement because since it’s inception on the last night of the 2019 festival this groundbreaking event has given a voice to the LGBT musicians and our ailies. To have this voice recognised within the traditional music community which has been known to be both socially and culturally conservative is a great step forward for LGBT musicians and let the world know that the myth which says you can’t be LGBT and Trad is exactly that, a myth. It is with this in mind that I have given it the title Duality as it shows that you can belong to both communities and be equally proud of them. I hope you enjoy the read.

Duality

It’s the last night of Celtic Connections
the cold wind perfumes the winter air
in the concert hall, as Danny Kyle smiles on a new generation of talent
I head to the Strathclyde Suite
to sign off the year at an LGBT night
it feels right to be in harmony
with my community, identity, and sexuality
my duality blends well on the night I see friends
in the crowd and on stage
make new ones from audience and cast
it is a night of joy and laughter
and occasionally tears
when free from fears and the narrow constraints of closets
musicians can be honest with themselves
in ways unthinkable just a few years ago
in what was and to some extent still is
a traditionally conservative culture
now however, times are changing
being LGBT is no longer thought of as a strange kind of love
nor should it be it’s part of who we are
and the acceptance of friends
has made navigating this journey
easier than once was the case
we are no longer the black sheep
the family disgrace
and women like me are accepted as woman
with no questions asked
protective masks are removed
in this the safest of spaces
where we can enjoy the comfort
of winter rainbows
without worrying about what others will say
we can come out to play
dressed in our Sunday best
to enjoy our music with our friends
and dance a final night ceilidh
as midnight stars light the Celtic skies

Crossing The Rubicon

This poem on bisexuality was inspired by the Bohga Frois. This for those who don’t know is a cultural event which promotes the voices of the LGBT folk musicians and those of our ailies, in of the greatest nights in the Celtic Connections calender. This is a night where those of us in these diverse and inclusive communities which I’m proud to be a part of can truly be ourselves and for me that means being a bisexual transwoman and being able to be open about it without fear or prejudice. I make this point as all too often bisexuals are judged as being to gay for the straight community and to straight to be LGBT. This is of course nonsense and it is to tackle these kind of negative assumptions and stereotypes I decided to write this poem which I’ve titled Crossing The Rubicon. I hope you enjoy the read.

Crossing The Rainbow

Bisexuality is
not greedy
not in to threesomes
not a choice
not a phase
bisexuality doesn’t mean
I can’t be transgender
or even more radical
than lesbians or gays
or at least a proportion of them
bisexuality doesn’t mean
we have a preference
for women
or for men
it does not reinforce
the gender binary
I don’t believe the stereotype
or comform to social myths
we get fed up reading stuff
like this
bisexuals do not have
the passing privileges
we are told we do
nor do we want them
bisexuality is not an illness
so why are we tainted
taunted and continually haunted
about our lives being a game
of multiple choice
bisexuals have a voice
and we will speak up
bisexuals aren’t lucky
we are just like you
the fact we are are attracted
to both sexes
is not our decision to make
It’s a call that nature made
on our behalf
we are part of every class and nation
we have existed for thousands of
years
we have cried real tears
at the loss of friends and family
we will not hide our sexuality
it is part of who we are
we should never pretend otherwise
or disguise ourselves
just to please others
I hope you won’t judge us
before walking a mile in our shoes
if you do you may be surprised
at what you find on your way
there is a line between straight and gay
we know it exists we found it
when we kissed at the party, in the bar
or under the moonlight
on the night we crossed the rubicon
and surrendered to nature’s desires

Fiddler’s Rainbow (For Laura Wilkie)

Sometimes we make promises we really have to keep and many years ago I made a promise like this to my friend Laura Wilkie. I promised Laura who is one of Scotland’s and in my opinion the world’s, top fiddle players and traditional musicians tutors, and composers , a poem which would do our friendship justice. I really hope this is that poem. I’ve given it the title Fiddler’s Rainbow, I hope you enjoy the read.

Picture Me And Laura at this year’s Bohga Frois

Fiddler’s Rainbow (For Laura Wilkie)

The fiddler

she learned how to play at an early age

honing her skills

at classes in the place that nurtured

both her and her talents

by the time I got know her

she was a star on the rise

yet still unassuming in her way

she remains like that to this day

as gradually the world learns the name

I’ve known for years

of the friend who dried my tears

from the other end of a phone

and set me out of darkness

on my hardest ever night

when I felt tossed aside

to be placed on the scrapheap of humanity

in a box marked rejected

and maybe I was by others

but never by the fiddler

years have passed since that night

and now the light that shone

to guide me safely to the shore

plays with bands whose names you will know

when I think of rainbows

I think of the Gaelic phrase

she taught me

Bohga Frois and what it means fot equality

in our culture and our world

I allow myself a smile

knowing she used her skills for good

as she has for many causes and campaigns

this is the friend who when it rains

will shelter others first before thinking of herself

who was shaped by the landscape

she viewed every day

before the city called her

to play on bigger stages

independent loyal and fierce

she cherishes those she calls her friends

as now she plays and teaches others

so they’ll discover talents of their own

tutored by the light who shone

on a summer’s evening

as she told me the storm will pass

Two Left Feet

In this poem I examine why despite watching Strictly every year and always making the same resolution to take up dancing I never quite get round to it. I’ve given it the title Two Left Feet I hope you enjoy the read.

Two Left Feet

Every year when I watch Strictly
I keep saying to myself
I need to take up dancing
I never do my clubbing years
have long since disappeared from view
not that I was ever that good
to anything other than the time warp
two left feet were always a problem
when trying to get in the groove
letting my body move to music
was never the easiest task
but now I actually do want to dance
though I suspect it may not be easy
for a late fifties transwoman
to find the place to take the chance
I don’t think ceilidhs would be quite my style
though I do smile at the thought of men in kilts
so maybe something bit more intimate might work better
at helping me shed the excess pounds
I gained in the festive period
I just need to find a place to express myself
and where the men have minds
as broad as their shoulders
to lead me on to the floor
and make me feel Strictly amazing
in spite of my two left feet.