Emotions – Page 2 – Skirtingroundmylife

Hold The Front Page

As Scotland’s women start our campaign to qualify for the 2023 World Cupagainst Hungary in Budapest tonight , I thought I would write this poem to wish them well in their efforts. Noting my natural Glasgow City bias I have given special mentions to two of our young stars Jenna Clark, and Lauren Davidson, who’ve been called up to the colours for the first time. I’ve given it the title Hold The Front Page as I believe this team could surprise a few people and that in this new era we will see Scotland’s women take our rightful place on the global stage. I hope you enjoy the read.

Hold The Front Page

As a new campaign begins
seeds of hope are planted
emerging names are given their colours
and a chance to liven up the squad

Fresh faces of youth mingle
with the older more experienced
players
prayers are offered for Jenna and Lauren
that new stars will be born in Scotland jerseys
and a better harvest will be grown this time than last.
those were barren nights when we wilted on frosty evenings
more suited for cups of coffee
and comfort TV
than grinding out results in games
which would have been played earlier
had we not been plagued by events
we could never have foreseen

now a changed team starts afresh
as some less familiar names take the stage
the manager tells the press to hold the front page
there are headlines waiting to be written
and you are the girls to write them.

For 90 Minutes I Have To Remember Not To Love You (For Nicola Docherty)

In this poem I hope I show that at least in women’s football it is possible to like a player from an opposing side . You know the mortal enemy and a side who in other circumstances you wouldn’t want to win a raffle even if they bought every ticket bar one. As some of you may have guessed by my rather tounge in cheek introduction this poem is for a Rangers player. The player in question is perhaps unsurprisingly a former Glasgow City stalwart , Scotland full back Nicola Docherty who left us at the beginning of 2020 to join the club she had always supported. Well as we say at Glasgow City when you become involved with the club you soon realise that Once City Always City actually means exactly what it says and binds us together as one big happy if slightly mad family . It is for this reason that I’ve given it the title For 90 Minutes I Have To Remember Not To Love You. I hope you enjoy the read.

For 90 Minutes I Have To Remember Not To Love You (For Nicola Docherty)

You were always a rock in the heart of defence
when you wore our colours
now other supporters cheer you on
it is their fans who chant your name to the skies
the heart never lies and your smile
tells the world
how happy you are to play for the club
you’ve supported since you were a girl
I know how much it means to you
to wear the Rangers blue
as well as the darker hue of your country
but when your playing for our rivals
for 90 minutes I have to remember not to love you
this is not as easy as I would like it to be
you see you’d be a stonewall cert
to captain my equality eleven
a courageous leader on mission to win
and not just during the game
fairness not fame has always been
your way
you play the same as you’ve always done
a fierce tackler and a ferocious defender
you have the equalities agenda
in the centre circle of your world
you champion women and girls
with the same passion you show
whenever you pull on the jersey
and give all you have from kick off to final whistle
it’s always been the way you are
you never shirk a challenge nor will you ever do
no matter what shade of blue you’re wearing
your good positional sense dictates that you play it with care
it’s always been your tactic of choice
your loyalties can never be questioned
wearing your crest with pride illustrates the hallmark of the quality defender you are
combining a brave heart and an even braver head
which is why I need to try as best I can
to remember your an opponent now
you no longer grace our colours
so for 90 minutes I have to pretend
not to love you
and then when the final whistle blows
Remember exactly why I do

Ripples

In this poem I relate the story of developing a rather unexpected woman crush on a member of the Olympic commentary team.
I’ve given it the title Ripples. I hope you enjoy the read.

Ripples

You can tell she was born
for moments like this
an Olympian herself
she knows what it’s like
not just to compete
but also to achieve
stand at the top of the podium
with gold as her colour
it suits more than silver or bronze
though red would bring out the colour of her lips
far better than the shades she wears
for the cameras
on late night television
now in the warmth of the studio
she causes ripples
when I see her smile
and I blush giving thanks
that the lipstick on my coffee cup
will keep her name a secret
never to be spoken anywhere
but my dreams
in which I embrace
the face of the games
enjoying a taste of Tokyo
as I prepare myself for the night
and the delights of secret desires

Women From Different Geographies Have Different Stories To Share

If there’s one thing I will say about lockdown it’s the fact that it has concentrated the mind of a certain wayward poet in to making more time for my writing and it’s good to see that the efforts are beginning to reap some rewards.

Since the start of lockdown in March last year I have submitted more of my work for publication than ever before and have been more published more often as a result of it.

My two most recent successes are perhaps my greatest achievements so far. This is especially true as both are all women collections. This collection entitled Lucent edited by Jo Chumas and published by Dunfermline based 8d press. 22 poets give our take to Nan Sheppard’ s Work The Living Mountain and believe me I think it’s a work we can be justifiably proud of . I am particularly pleased that my poems in this excellent anthology The Crossing which relates the tale of my awakening on realising I had to walk my own path in spite of what others may have thought and The Haunting which shows that you can’t be truly free of your demons until you acknowledge their presence and by doing so reduce their power fitted so well on the theme of sensuality. With poems by friends such as Chris Tait, Finola Scott, Leela Soma, Natalie Clark. and my Words And Music co-host and bestie Jen Hughes this is a collection well worth reading and not only reading but savoring as 22 very different writers take you on a whole range of interesting journies

For the second of my two collections I move from The East Coast of Scotland to the southern United States and as I find myself published in a global collection of 34 writers in a range of styles from esssyists , poets , and storytellers from countries as close Scotland , England, and Ireland to writers on the other side of the world such as the USA and New Zealand in a fabulous collection of women’s words entitled We Are Not Shadows which was edited and published by the amazing Hannah Fields.

In this collection my poems Little Girl Pink, and Accidental Girl focus on growing up as a trans girl in the late 60’s and 70’s before I even knew the term was out there. Apart from my own work there are many other writers who challenge you to change your perception on how you see the world on issues such as disability and race and every day struggles of women across the world.

Needless to say I am extremely proud to be included in both anthologies and would encourage you to read them if you ever get the chance as both collections focus on the power of women’s words and why those words matter as women from different geographies have different stories to share and every single of them is a story well worth reading.

Till Next Time

Gayle. X

Star Spangled Banter

As it’s American independence day I thought I’d share this poem from my back catalogue on Holywood and the mythology creaaqted around it by the movie industry which some of our more celebrity obsessed citizens believe to be the gospel according to the tabloids. It’s titled Star Spangled Banter I hope you enjoy the read

Star Spangled Banter

Star Spangled Banter
Holywood style
Pearly white teeth
superstar smiles
Men with muscles
steroid injudiced
Stories in cinema
nothing like truth

Star Spangled Banter
women must be slim
When did real people
ever go to the gym
Our lives are too busy
we haven’t got the time
Heroes and heroines
walk a thin line

Star Spangled Banter
special effects
Only rich lookers
allowed to have sex
It isn’t reality
just Holywood patter
Creating illusions
by star spangled banter

Dancing With Strangers

In this poem I look at a night at the dancing and the search for what some of us call the one. I’ve given it the title Dancing With Strangers I hope you enjoy the read.

Dancing With Strangers

In the club you eye them up
In the hope they may you ask for a dance
you have no way of knowing what they might say
this stranger who has caught your gaze

You see them smiling
chatting to friends
pretending to be interested
you move closer
attempting to be discreet
as you listen from a distance

Eventually you notice someone else in the crowd
smiling back at you
it’s true it wasn’t the one you had
your eye on
but attractive all the same
you return the smile
you know the rules of the mating game

As you head towards the dance floor
you look in the direction of friends
to gain approval
or at least confirmation
they are ok with your choice
the voice in your head says dance
but when it comes to taking chances
you always tread with caution

They know you well enough to know
taking risks was never your scene
though you have to occasionally
if you want to find the one
the song is Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
and you decide to danger with a stranger

Yes you’re aware of the danger
the hidden risks
but three songs later you’re still dancing
with Prince orPrincess Charming
the first kiss is electric
the second even better

All too soon it’s time to go
the last dance is slow and incredibly romantic
you leave with your friends
though you wish it was them
in a frantic rush you find a pen
take down their name and number
then discover they want to add you
as a friend on Facebook.

You agree to the request
but say it’s best that you add them
by which you mean
safer
well you need to check them out
to see if their details are really worth keeping
or if their interests
include dreaming, eating , and sleeping.
to decide if dancing with strangers
was a risk worth taking tonight.

Smiling Through The Tears. (A Poem For Glasgow City On Winning Our 14th League Title In A Row)

It’s not that often I get too emotional over football and when I do it usually involves either the Scotland national team or the famous Glasgow Celtic. However since I started following the women’s game just after the 2019 World Cup I have supported Glasgow City and have done so because they stand alone as the only team in Scotland not to be part of a men’s club and focus exclusively on women and girls. Trust me I love this club with a passion just as I love Celtic with a passion and nothing will ever change that. So it is to celebrate the winning of a 14th consecutive league title that I’ve written this poem for my girls. I’ve titled it Smiling Through The Tears I hope you enjoy the read.

Smiling Through The Tears

This was it there was no turning back
death or glory rested on this 90 minutes
there could be no slip ups
as rivals lay waiting to take advantage of any mistakes
claim the title and make history of their own

they started well with two early goals
and trust me the news spread quickly
but we didn’t panic
we just kept calm and got on with the job
in the manner that champions do
though I won’t deny it was bricking it
especially in the early stages

with the game still tied
Lee pulled off the kind of save
that wins titles
it was vital not to lose an early goal
as I screamed beautiful9 expletives
at my TV screen
in poetic sighs of relief

then just like a dream we take the lead
Hayley rifles a shot to the net
suddenly we’re 1-0 in front
I let my emotions rip
yelling ya dancer at the top of my voice
I scream with delight
whilst praying all will be well
who says transwomen can’t multi task.

meanwhile Jo is making sure
we deny our opponents chances
by staying focused in midfield and defence
I am calm yet apprehensive
for those fans lucky enough to be there
I worry it could still go wrong
and others may yet sing a song of victory

we’re controlling the game
but for me there are shades of 98
I know what it’s like
praying for that second goal
to arrive
how my fingernails survived this 90 minutes
I’ll honestly never know

fortunately I didn’t have as long to wait
as I did for Brattbakk’s glory moment
and the second goal settled the nerves
Hayley the architect with a perfect delivery
setting up Niamh to score
I let out a roar when her header hit the net
and I realised that barring miracles fourteen in a row was really going to happen.

we played out the second half
with superb game management
as our injured skipper sat on the bench
kicking every ball in the way a legend does
as full time approached I was buzzing
but as soon as the whistle was blown
the emotions kicked in
as they do on days like this
when dreams come true
and early evening skies show names
of those written in glory

I was just about holding it together
then they interview my shero
who in case you didn’t know
scored the opening goal
and was named as player of the game
that was when the tears came
not in trickles but in torrents
I knew they would if I’m honest
it’s just the way I am
this fan has always worn her heart on her sleeve

then just as I’m drying my eyes
Jo comes up to the mic
as she smiles for the camera
to nobody’s surprise
the rivers run again
and I’m smiling through the tears
at a much deserved success
for our club , our colours. and our girls

Above The Hem Line

This poem is written on the theme of borders and boundaries but I’ve interpreted the subject on matters of consent from a woman’s perspective rather than a geograrphic one. I’ve titled it Above The Hem Line. I hope you enjoy the read

Above The Hem Line

Anything above the hem line
is a border you can’t cross
a clearly marked boundry a no go zone
I don’t care how much your hormones are raging
when a woman says no
that’s what she means
you need to understand
you may be the man to your friends
but all this pretence
will make no sense to her
she controls the rights to her body
it is if you like
the geography of her personal space
the smile or other expressions
a facial map of her thoughts dreams and desires
you may want to aim high
but she’ll be the one who decides
how high your allowed to venture
or if the hem line
remains the boundry
you won’t be allowed to cross

The Day The Clyde Turned Pink

In this poem which I wrote for International day against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia, I recall the events of Pride 2008 which was the first time I had attended it in my home city of Glasgow and explain why it was a very significant event on my journey to self acceptance. I’ve titled it The Day The Clyde Turned Pink I hope you enjoy the read

The Day The Clyde Turned Pink

Pride 2008
my first in my home city
dolled up to the nines
my flatmate walked with me
as the parade made its way
through Glasgow city centre
to the square

once there I mingled with friends
and a future first minister said
she liked my dress
when we spoke after her speech
this was a day when Glasgow reached out to our community
as the young and young at heart
waved to onlookers as cheering crowds took selfies
and Hazel Dean was the star attraction
belting out the classics
we sang at Karaoke
and danced to in the clubs and bars

this was a show in which we were the stars
who all had a part to play
in the unfolding drama of the day
and of course the adventures of the night
this was the first time my Glasgow had really felt right
I was walking the streets with pride
on the day the Clyde turned pink
to match the colour of my dress
and I said yes to accepting myself

Keepsakes (For Twelfth Day)

On a night they are playing an online gig this poem is decided to one of the best bands on the traditional music scene. The band in question is Twelfth Day an amazingly talented and innovative duo of Catriona Price, and Eshter Swift. It was written after watching YouTube videos of the band and getting a wee bit teary eyed. I’ve titled it Keepsakes. I hope you enjoy the read.

Keepsakes.

It’s the wee small hours
of a January Saturday
At a time when I should be sleeping
I silently weep for the friends I won’t see
till the end of this virus
meanwhile instruments are quietend
and voices type our words rather
than speak
I remember memories are made as keepsakes
I listen to tunes and songs
feel a sense of a belonging
to something bigger than this
I know that raindrops will kiss my cheeks
and silver streams become rivers
as I remember that winter won’t be the same
without the familiar faces
whose smiles light up the usual places
in the audience and on stages
until the music stops
with the coming of Imbolc
the harbinger of a Celtic spring.