Death – Skirtingroundmylife

Sunset Years

This is my new poem on the topic of ageing I’ve given it the title Sunset Years I hope you enjoy the read.

Sunset Years

When the envelope arrived
in the morning post
I was hit by a bolt from the blue
I turned white as a ghost
as my travel card came with no date by which to renew
It dawned on me I’m a old girl now
but I won’t be held hostage to fears
this is my journey
to make my time mine
It’s the start of my sunset years

Now alas my new card
had no sign for companion
so I paused for a moment to think
I had dreamed of the day I’d go back to the dancing
as my face turned a bright shade of pink
it was time to get my big girl pants on
a time to accept my reality
well look at Madonna
she’s older than me
and she’s always prepared for new challenges.

If I could just be more like her
you never know who I’d impress
I really must stop being frightened of fate
and be open to what it suggests . well I’ll show I’ve still got it
in my little black dress
and that fishnets look good on my legs
they’ll be no second prizes for me anymore
all I ask is a little respect

so it’s time to make my sixties swing
and let my dreams run riot
It’s ballroom not clubbing
that’s that’s this woman’s thing
and I’m not in the mood to be quiet
not for me the easy choice
I’ll raise my hemline and my voice
well it’s my life and I’ll enjoy
the days of my sunset years.

Fiercely Speaking

In this poem I look at the those celebrated male poets who had a vision for a better version of their countries and then move on to Women poets who are the voices for a better humanity. In doing this I hope I have illustrated why women’s words are every bit as important as any man and deserve to be valued as such. I’ve given it the title Fiercely Speaking I hope you enjoy the read.

Fiercely Speaking

Pearse proclaimed his artistic integrity
in early 20th century Ireland
the silence between spaces in his poetry
adding fuel to the nationalist movement he led
for which he would soon be put to death
executed in a show of imperial strengh
by a force unwilling to reason
with anyone they viewed as dissenters

Havel loved his Chezia
seeing it as a beacon of light
between East and West a poet and a playwright
he worked in a brewery
rather than conspire
in doing the work
of those he saw as oppressors
refusing a party card
so many accepted
from Soviet Unionists
when their iron fist ensured
their authority
as the only show in town.

Neruda faced down Uncle Sam
believing Allende would build a better Chile
a country fit for the purpose
of tackling poverty and hunger
not even the stadium of death
would hold his restless spirit
Pinochet ended his life
but never extinguished his dream
of what people could achieve
if only they were given the chance

Burns was a radical pragmatist
as guid Scots had to be
in the days when revolution was confined to other nations
in far distant lands
he couldn’t understand
why we weren’t up for a piece of the action
Presbyterian union flag waving types
had a lot to answer for even then
the bard knew the union limited ambition
and though Scotland wasn’t governed
in the way of a typical colony
he could see his cherished dream of a better humanity
slipping away though the apathy of the kirk
whose privilege was paid for by the bribe
of favoured status

I think it is safe to say poets have always been radical
opponents would call us fanatical
in the way we view the world
we tend not to be jingoistic types
and the establishments in our countries
seldom if ever like us while we’re alive
yet we gain their respect when dead
we seem to become safer when we’re laid to rest
and less of a threat to what they see
as their right to rule

They despise the fact we hate cruelty and challenge conformity
have a different view of what should be considered normality
not based on sexuality or ethnicity
but dignity and respect for all
where equality means women’s words and women’s dreams
have the same value
as any man anywhere in the world

Women and girls need to hear
our voices on stages
see our words on pages
and plays in theatres
which celebrate us for who we are
we should be taught not just of the Brontes
and those the patriarchy deem fit for reading
but of Angelou, Lochhead, Green, and McNish
I want to feel the resistance in struggle songs of Torok
the magic in the folklore of MacFarlane
and the authentic power of Tempest
let’s celebrate female words
living voices from our
time
who speak fiercely in ways that women know

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

Thoughts Of An NHS Nurse

I was asked to write this poem by my cousin Annemarie McMahon who works as a domestic in the NHS Belfast Trust and wanted me to do this for her colleagues in the ICU team. After much consideration I decided to title it Thoughts Of An NHS Nurse I hope you enjoy the read.

Thoughts Of An NHS Nurse

Working in the NHS
can be challenging at the best of times
as a nurse my job is to save lives
as we help patients recover
from strokes and bypass surgery
our day to day task
is to look after the heart
give the lucky ones
a fresh start
a second chance on the hamster wheel
where humanity is often
the first victim of capitalism

yet now our resources are stretched
beyond acceptable limits
as a killer virus sweeps the world
In a way not seen the Spanish Flu
at the end of the first world war
and we fear being told to put DNR notices
at the end of those beds
occupied by those the UK government
considers to be less economically active
and more of a burden
than billionaires should carry on their backs
the ones not worth paying tax for

this virus has shown us
that equality is less important to some
than visiting wherever
they want
whenever they like
they seem unaware
that health conditions
can strike at random
they can’t seem to fathom
these things are no respector of religion
or social class
and are in fact indiscriminate in who they kill in cold blood.

this assassin doesn’t know
your name or rank
it couldn’t care less
if you had money in the bank
or were a pauper
living on streets
where nobody knows your name
to us life isn’t just a game
it’s about living, loving, taking chances
advancing yourself at every stage
and being the best you can be
it’s about beating this disease
which has brought us new words
in to our national lexcon
and our every day reality

the fatality count grows higher by the day
and we remain at significant risk
with a lack of personal protective equipment
and a government resistant to reality
who are immune to the needs of the people
living in the real world
as the jobs of those
they call highly skilled
aren’t as prized as the ones
we perform every day
in all weathers
to ensure we all stay
as safe as we can
my name is Elizabeth
and I work for the NHS

Skirting Round My Life 2019 My Year On The Blog

As I look back on the events of 2019 it’s fair to say that my second annual review has seen Skirting Round My Life find it’s place in the blogosphere. There has been progress in certain aress whilst others have been quieter but overall I would say that the statistics represented in this report are a good indicator of a blog which is developing a good core readership.

The first thing to note that Skirtingroundmylife gained 3,262 views in 2019. This represented an increase of six views from it’s 2018 total of 3,256. So with no massive increase or dramatic decline in post views and an average of eight views a day for the second successive year this has been a year of stability rather than growth. This I think was due to the fact I never promoted certain blogs and especially certainly poems anywhere near as much as I should and this is something I will work towards improving in 2020.

That said there is one area where has been noticeable growth is in the number of posts published which rose from 78 to 88 in the last twelve months. In contrast the number of both visitors to the site and comments on posts are both down with the later halving from 16 to 8, though there is better news when it came post likes which more than doubled from 36 to 74. This year also saw a new record for post views with Something Old Something New, a fashion post I wrote for LGBT Mardi Gla attracting 296 views.

Topics covered in the last twelve months included Bespoke Chocolates (yes they are a thing) Bisexuality, Bullying, Christmas, Coming Out, Concerts, Dancing , Dating, Death, Disability, Discrimination, Disruption (A topic on which co-wrote my first ever collaborative poem with my friend Emma Mooney), Equality, Family, Faith, Fashion, Kindness, Love, Letter Writing , Lesbian Weddings, Lingerie, Memories, Mental Health, Relationships, Role Models, Stereotypes, The Broga Frois, Taxation, Transition, Transhopia, Transport, Visibility, and last but not least Football,

This deserves a more detailed explanation than the other topics I’ve posted on in last year as I’ve covered both the men’s and women’s game. Though I think it has to be said that women’s football has taken over this blog in the later half of last year. This can be evidenced by the fact that there were poems not only for the Scotland team during and after the World Cup but also for the Under 19’s during their European Championships which we hosted , on individual games and for three Scotland players Erin Cuthbert, Lee Alexander, and Carly Girasoli , though Lee’s poem poem was written after a particularly memorable display for her club Glasgow City when her brilliance helped them qualify for the quarter finals of the UFEA Champions League for only the second time in their history.

2019 saw a slight dip in my global reach as visiting nations were slightly down from 38 in 2018 to 34 last year. The top five countries were UK , USA, Canada, Australia, and Ireland. With Spain, Hong Kong , Germany, France, and India, making up the top ten. There were also readers from countries including South Africa, The Netherlands, Belgium, Poland, Brazil, New Zealand, Japan, Finland, Sweden, Norway, Austria, Turkey, Oman, Kenya , Algeria, and believe it or not The Bahamas. Yes readers my words reach glamorous places.

As all the statistics have now properly evaluated it is time to brimg this review to it’s 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 enjoyable stimulating, 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 2020 and beyond .

Till next time

Gayle X

The Greatest Success

On International Transgender Remembrance Day this poem is a celebration of ordinary lives. By this I mean the lives where the greatest success a transwomen like myself can have is by living every day in our homes, streets, and schemes, and blending in to them as we play our part in our local communities. I’ve given it the title The Greatest Success I hope you enjoy the read.

The Greatest Success

On frosty mornings
she wraps up well
dressing for the weather
she knows what to wear and why
she cries no tears for the friends
who walked away on the day
they discovered her past
as a transwoman she is honest
with herself and with others
discovering her voice
she made the choice to accept herself
for the sake of her happiness and mental health
she knows that sanity comes first
yet though she see her trans sisters abused every day in social media and the press
her greatest success comes
when she walks the streets unnoticed
escaping taunts which cut like knives
and though she keeps her private
life private
she will hide under no comfort blanket
but instead give thanks to those
who remembered to walk with her
on her journey
at night she lights a candle
for those who never got the chance
to dress for the weather
as the ice cold hearts of others
extinguished their dreams and their lives

Invisible Scars

On National Poetry Day this poem shows that far from getting things all our own way as the Transphobes And TERF’S would like to fool you in to believing there are some places where transwomen are treated as second class citizens in their own countries. For example in her home country of Chile the actress Daniela Vega who became the first transgender presenter at the Oscars said that her identity card still registers her as a man. Make no mistake is exactly what the transphobic bigots would like to see happen here and they are prepared to tell any lie to further their feral agenda. This is why I written this poem which I’ve titled Invisible Scars to highlight the inequalities the trans community face in every corner of the world and why we must fight these attitudes with everything we have to make that what has already happened in Chile is never allowed to happen in Scotland. I hope you enjoy the read.

Invisible Scars

At Uncle Sam’s most glamorous night
Daniela made history
as she walked the red carpet
with the dignity of the women
she was born to be
respected and acclaimed
for who she is
this women from another land
understands that in her home country
she is still denied the right to be herself
no amount of wealth can heal the pain
of knowing her people see her
as someone she is not
someone she has never been
even stardom can’t erase the hurt
she endures from invisible scars
in Chile her identity card claims
she is male
this is not debated or discussed
it is ignored and blindly accepted
as some sort of undeniable truth
which will never be allowed to change
and those without the means of escape
will die, as they wait to be themselves

Fallen Leaves

Since the beginning of this year I have heard of three unexpected deaths. Two were of friends from the cultural community and one was a distant relative, and all of them died too young. This set me thinking as to why life can be so cruel and why those of us who do survive to middle age and beyond often sacrifice our dreams for comfort and routine rather than chase the rainbows to catch the stars we once thought within our reach. it is with this in mind I have written this poem titled Fallen Leaves. I hope you enjoy the read.

Fallen Leaves

Suddenly, and without explanation
my memory goes to flashback
to the year of my 13th summer
high school beckoned
and the Bay City Rollers
had replaced the Osmonds
for teenage dreamers like me
who were, like the trees you see in spring
blossoming, though not yet in the full bloom of summer
sometimes we wonder ,
why things happen the way they do
why we sacrifice dreams of youth
for comfort conformity and routine
now it is almost autumn
time is the thief of years
as one by one family friends and heroes
fall like leaves from the tree
and some are pruned
before they had time to grow
and tears will be shed in sorrow by those with the fondest memories
of the ones will never see winter

Circle Of Life

On International Poetry Day I wrote this poem on the theme of nature and more specifically the change of seasons. I’ve given it the title Circle Of Life I hope you enjoy the read

Circle Of Life

Slowly but surely spring begins

the dawning of new life in all its glorious forms

nature knows the road we should take

it would a big mistake not to listen to its voices

sometimes a change of seasons means

tough choices will have to be made

there will be no avoiding reality

running away will leave us falling behind

in the race we must run

to win the right to be ourselves

as flowers bloom we are reminded

we also must grow

it is part of the circle of life

to each season both beginning and end

are marked by the calender dates

like the days of our lives will be

by the fruit of the vine

we must mark time by making the most of every day

as younger friends know the truth of their expression

Yolo you only live once

returning to earth as ashes and dust

as a transwoman of faith

I don’t want to go a better place

I want to make this place better

for generations to come

and let that alone be the inheritance

as evidence I lived my best life

Best Shot

If there is one thing I always do on International Transgender Remembrance Day it is to read the roll of honour in memory of those trans siblings whose lives were cruelly cut short for the crime of being themselves. Whilst Scotland had no names on it and UK only one, records of which we should be proud it wasn’t like that for all countries. In 2018, 311 trans people were murdered just for being themselves with in no particular order Argentina, Brazil and The United States Of America topping the transphobic league of shame

Whilst this in itself is no great surprise to anyone I am particularly alarmed for the Brazilian trans community for whom I fear the situation will inevitably get worse with the election of an extremely right wing president who has made no secret of his loathing of the LGBT community. It is for this reason I wtote my new poem on why though I love watching their football I’m glad I don’t live in their country I have based what it is to the best of my knowledge is a fictional scenario of a young footballer who discovers his trans sister and is later shocked to discover she was murdered for being herself.

As I say , it is I think a fictional scenario but who knows if a player we consider a superstar has had to confront this situation or even if he himself dreams of being someone’s daughter or sister but knows how his family would react and has to live in the closet at till he has retired and is out of the public eye. I’ve given it the title Best Shot, I hope you enjoy the read.

Best Shot

As the sun rose

she awoke to a brand new morning

there was no warning

she did not know this would be

her last day on earth

but as night came down

she met the cruellest fate

a victim of transphobic hate

she was murdered for the crime

of being herself

beaten, strangled , bludgeoned

the method didn’t matter to her killers

who butcher Brazil with brutality

painting blood red rivers rather than rainbows

in a country where football is played on the beaches

a woman like me is all too often

selected for a season ticket to a venue

nobody wants to attend

at the graveside friends mourn her passing

as clergy misgender her even in death

and a young boy with a secret

he could not share with siblings or parents

cries for the sister he had only just met

though they had known each other all their lives

such a shame she couldn’t tell the family

his broken heart left at the grave

he focused on his skills

to blur out the memories

the ghosts of a life he knew but couldn’t share

he was a talented player

but the country was full of boys like him

what chance for him to escape

the shanty town he grew up in

he could only give it his best shot

he kept trying in memory of her

the sister whose only goal was self fulfillment

it was her who made him resilient

and now years later

the boy who played the game in the flavelas

is a star on the global stage

knowing his trans sister who exited

far earlier than planned

watches his games from heavenly stands

and each time he takes the field

she smiles under celestial floodlights