Ignorance – Skirtingroundmylife

Selfie Queen

This poem is probably one of the most personal ones I’ve ever written. It recalls a childhood memory from my primary school years and shows just how far I’ve come in the time since I was afraid to show myself in my class photograph. It was recently published in the Wee Dreich 5 anthology and it’s titled Selfie Queen I hope you enjoy the read as much as the young female footballer who encouraged me to write it.

Selfie Queen.

School Photograph
primary years
in the summer of 72
cloudless skies
disguise one child’s inhibitions
sitting in the front row
their face is hidden
from the camera
as friends and classmates smile
who knew the boy
ashamed to be seen
in a childhood memory
would in later years become a selfie queen
and share her new pictures on Instagram

Thunder Clouds

In this poem for National Coming Out Day I relate the story of knowing I didn’t fit in to the gender box society had selected for me before my age even reached double digits and being smart enough to know what to say and what not to say in those socially conservative times. I also suggest the knowledge gained in my pre teen years may have made my teenage years a lot safer and easier to navigate than may otherwise have been the case. I’ve given it the title Thunder Clouds due to the nature of my Presbyterian upbringing in the Scotland of the 1970’s I hope you enjoy the read.

Thunder Clouds

Long before the Osmonds I knew
though there was a difference
between knowing and saying .
in those days you didn’t tell the world
you wanted to be a girl.
Imagine what the neighbours would say
let alone your friends in school
it wasn’t cool to come out
or be proud of who you were
at such a young age
god help you if you said it out loud
you would either be patronised
and told it was just a phase
or warned that thunder clouds would strike you down
for the shame you would bring on the family
sexuality was never discussed
except to mock those perceived as different
and anyway you were assumed to be innocent
till at least your high school years
the days when fears plagued your teens
concerned that you’d be found out
and somehow they would know
by the way you looked
or the jokes you never told
now older and wiser you realise
there was a difference between knowing and saying
and they were only acting the roles
for which they had been conditioned
the parts society had auditioned them to play
you forgave them their sins
on the night you came out as a woman
on behalf of the girl they had never met
or never thought they had
the girl you knew you were
long before the Osmonds
and every day there after.

Invisible Citizens

On a day the snow fell on the streets of Glasgow and Scotland this poem looks with contempt at the dehumanising benefits assessment process disabled people have to face from a Conservative government who want as many as possible to die quietly and without fuss in order for them to save money which they can hand out to their pals in the Bullingdon Billionaires club. During these difficult times it is important to remember that we shouldn’t be turning on each other but instead focus our anger and our energy on our real enemies who would deny Children the right to a decent meal so that any money they can save will be passed on to their pals. That said this poem focuses on disability issues and more importantly this dystopian pre Dickensian government would like to cull disabled people in the way other countries cull seals. I’ve given it the title Invisible Citizens , I hope you enjoy the read.

Invisible Citizens

This is the weather when I don’t go to church

this is season for sensible skirts

and for coats I struggle to button

it’s the time of year when I worry

if my boots which have Velcro fastenings

have enough grip to cope with the ice

I have difficulty viewing even in clear sight

never mind in the darkness of night

this is the time when I wish

those who sit in judgement of disabled people

despite knowing nothing of our lives

had to turn tricks whilst dancing on the thinnest of ice

only to fall through the cracks they created for others

and discover what life is really like

for those with hidden impairments

which go unseen and therefore in their eyes can’t really exist

for the ones they perceive to be invisible citizens

the disposables they want to disappear

faster than snow when the sun shines

Gathering Storm

On International Transgender Remembrance Day I send my toughest warning yet to the gender critics. If you carry on using incendiary language again the trans community this poem explains exactly where it will end. I’ve given it the title Gathering Storm as suggested by my friend and fellow poet Matt Panesh I hope you enjoy the read.

Gathering Storm

The cup was filled to capacity .
The clouds in her coffee were gathering
till the storm spilled over at boiling point.
Engulfing her in waves of unstoppable force
Broken: she lay on the floor .
Weeping for Brazilian and Colombian sisters .
She cried for Argentinian and Chilean girls and those in the USA
Never in her wildest nightmares
did she ever believe this would hit the UK
She knows different now.
It has arrived with violent force
causing her and those like her
to be drenched by panic.
Fanatics claim as prophecy
the will of God’s truth.
Abuse now a calorie free part
of her daily diet
She longs, for the quiet she used to know.
When rainy days were the worst she had to face.
Now: as tides of ignorance and hate
floods the land she grew up in.
She prays the gathering storm will stop.
And keyboard warriors ,online and in the mainstream press
will select other demons to fight.
in their twilight zones as midnight oil gets wasted.
By parrots masquerading as vampires.
On the orders of those, who play, the elimination game

Charades

This poem which is written in the form of a letter tackles the issue of transphobia and it sends a very clear message to the self appointed gender critics of both sexes that the days of bullying transpeople are over and over for good. In the 21st century I find it sad that some people are so socially and culturally conservative that they can’t accept the idea of live and let live Many of these people will attempt to justify their hate filled bile by claiming that they are somehow defending the rights of women despite every poll on the topic providing evidence which shows that the majority of women and girls support transgender rights. Indeed the demographic with the biggest problem on trans issues are right wing Conservative males and particularly though not exclusively men of a certain age who are set in their ways who don’t like their behaviour being challenged . I’ve given it the title Charades I hope you enjoy the read.

Charades

Dear gender critics
I think you need to know
a few things
about living in these enlightened times.
being a transwoman isn’t a crime.
though as for your behaviour,
that’s a very different story
Who needs Tories
when we’ve got you
standing in the way of equality?
All you ever do is carp and whine
as you long for the days
when you could say without inhibition or fear
of anyone daring to contradict your well known fact.
that for every silver lining
there’s at least a million clouds.
standing bigoted and proud,
you look not to the future but the past .
you tell me and others like me ,
to think of the children we have never harmed.
deluded you think this is your ace card.
and you may be right,
because you’re sounding more demented by the day.
you can’t wish us away,
because when we’re gone ,
who will you blame
for all the world’s ills ?
And don’t give me the we’re doing this for women and girls chat.
the fact is you’re not:
most women and girls support trans rights.
statistics tell the story of this
and I’ve noticed, apart from a few career politicians
most of your staunchest advocates happen to be men of way above
a certain age
full of orchestrated hate
I have to ask what are you afraid of ?
is it progress or maybe change ?
whatever happened to live and live
or the sense of Scottish decency
and British fair play ?
or do they only apply to those
you’ve selected to participate
in this game of charades?
a game by the way
you’re far too clueless to win

©Gayle Smith 2020

Perfumed With Kindness

If there is only one benefit to this enforced lockdown it is the fact I’m beginning to far more organised in my creative endevours. Evidence of this amazing achievement can be found in the fact that this poem which is written for a younger friend who celebrates her 21st birthday in October was written months in advance. I’ve titled it Perfumed With Kindness, and dedicated to a star who knows when to shine her light for others just when they need it most. I hope you enjoy the read.

Perfumed With Kindness

I get it she said
I get it more than you know
I get it more than anyone else in this church
wise words perfumed with kindness
from the girl with the rebellious streak
her dad described as stubborn
she gets that from her mother he said
smiling with more pride than he’ll admit
when I told him the story
of how good her comment made me feel
on days when I’m not at my best
he has two daughters so I asked him
which one it was who said I get it
he got it straight away saying
It’s sounds exactly what she’d say
she always was the lippy one
and though her sister might think
exactly the same
this one would say it out loud
blaming ignorance for all the world’s wrongs
he was right but in the gray of a cloudy morning
she delivered her words in private
in a space where silence spoke gently
and I got a message of friendship
with genuine hope for the future
hope that was perfumed with kindness
that came from a heart wrapped in gold

Dressing Room Door (A Poem On Homophobia In Football)

As a footballer comes out as gay this poem looks at the difficulty football players face to come out in the male or what some would call the traditional game. As a transwoman myself I find it disturbing that this attitude still prevails in the early years of the 21st century. Well lets be honest there will be some gay or bisexual players in teams at every level all over the world and the fact they need to hide their true identity from the fans is something I find shocking in these so called enlightened times. As I’ve said before on this blog the women’s game is far inclusive on LGBT issues for players and supporters alike and I’ve been given nothing but respect from fans in this environment whereas in the men’s game I’ve had to deal with both transphobic and misoyginstic attitudes from fans of certain teams though it has to be said not my own club but it doesn’t have to be this way I’ve given the title Dressing Room Door, I hope you enjoy the read

Dressing Room Door

A footballer comes out of the dressing room door
speaks words I can’t ignore
tells the football community
he is gay it’s just the way he is
why should I care who a player kisses
well the answer to this is that I don’t
at least not really and not in a negative way
as a transwoman myself I believe
we should play an equal game
not shame players to stop them being themselves
there is too much testosterone
involved in our sport
are clubs concerned that if a player
comes out
endorsements won’t come in
and sponsorship deals will dry up
or is it the fans they fear
come on guys labelling opponents
with taunts like queer is so last century
that if you still do this kind of chanting
you’d be better off in pantomime
you need a time machine not a supporters bus
to get you to and from the ground on Saturdays
sexuality doesn’t win or lose you leagues
It wouldn’t see knocked out of the cup
due to a player kissing his boyfriend
the night before the match
honestly the women’s game has much more inclusive attitudes
towards stuff like this
all the girls seem to care about is
can our forwards score goals
will our defenders make trophy winning tackles
will we raise our game when it matters
and that is exactly how it should be
it’s much more LGBT friendly
not because they want to be on trend
but because it reflects reality
you just need to google Megan Rappoine
to see the evidence of this
so if women’s football can open the dressing room door
why can’t men do the same
as a transwoman I say this
I don’t care who you kiss
as long you can play and do it well
that’s what it’s really about
it’s what happens on the pitch that counts
you get no extra points for being macho

Real Women

This poem was inspired by my friend Katie Walker when she commented on an image I had shared on my Facebook where I said how daft I thought the image really was. The fact that the image may very well have been photoshopped matters not one jot, it was content on it that got me mad angry enough to write this poetic rant as it dared to suggest that real women should be subordinate to our men. Now uncomfortable as it is to say this I have actually met some women who do think like this and this was especially true during the Independence and Brexit referendums. Granted the numbers concerned were extremely small but to say that nobody thinks like that is a fantasy especially if they’ve been brought up in strict religious conservative homes where certain parts of the bible are given primacy over other what could be seen as more contentious books or verses. It was with this in mind I decided to go on a kinda rant as to what I think real women are prepared to accept. You may not be surprised to know I’ve given it the title Real Women I hope you enjoy the read.

Real Women

Real women will give the world
comfort and passion
fashion advice to each other
and occasionally men
send sexist attitudes
homeward to think again
campaign for equality
stand up to end poverty
take no lip from politicians of any hue
real women are not afraid to share our views
will not do as we are told
by the mainstream media
or advertising executives
will never be what you expect of us
because nobody has the right
to say what our expectations should be
will call out injustices whenever we see them
we will never be beaten by slogans or statistics
we will be altruistic if that’s in our nature
refuse to be lectured on our best behaviour
or do as you command
real women will not hand our paycheck to a man
for only a pittance in return
so if anyone believes we should
then I suggest they are up to no good
and should leave the comedy
to those who can actually deliver
the laughter
and boldly go
back to the 18th century
while the rest of us
get on with our lives
you see that is what real women do
we are sisters, daughters, friends, partners, wives
and all of us have many parts to play
in the ever changing drama
we call our everyday reality
so believe us when we say
that we will be nobody’s sideshow
a real women knows
her place
and that place will be
wherever she wants it to be
to those who call us birds I say this
most of them fly free
and those who are trapped in cages
long to escape
that’s it that’s my rant over
now where did I put my wonder women cape?
I have much work still to do.

No Flowers

In this poem I share my thoughts on why my mother had difficulty with my gender identity and eventual transition. To be fair to her I think it may to some extent at least have a generational thing and a significant part of it may have to due to the social and cultural conditioning which was part and parcel of being a presbyterian growing up in post war climate of Scotland and the UK. I’ve given it the title No Flowers I hope you enjoy the read

No Flowers

She mourned at the loss of her boy
the son she thought she had
there were no flowers at the graveside
to her grief was private
she needed time to cry
tears of sorrow and confusion
she didn’t understand how it could happen
after all the God she believed in
though not enough to go to church
had told her in the bible
he created them man and women
there was no in between
soon she was sure
she would waken up from this dream
with her son returning to be
the boy she had raised and the man she still loved
the truth is that he found closets
far too limiting
restricting her from coming to terms
with what she had always known
but had been too afraid to show
friends protected her from
occasional storms of hate
there were no flowers at the graveside
no funeral for the son who never died
nor celebrations for the daughter
who had no choice but to take the step
and finally be herself

Hidden From View

In this poem on trans issues I look at the fragility of the views held by those gender critical fanatics who want to wish women like me out of existence. As I do so I challenge the view held amongst the chattering classes that these people are speaking on the so-called silent majority the truth is they’re not , they are speaking for themselves and only for themselves. These people may want me hidden from view but the reality is that’s not going to happen. The truth is that nobody is remotely interested in their toxic opinions and the vast majority of women and girls are far more supportive my right to live my life than their deluded attempts to stop me. I’ve titled it Hidden From View I hope you enjoy the read.

Hidden From View

As a transwoman some say
I shouldn’t speak
I should be seen and not heard
and even then I should only be seen
in selected places
among others like me
certainly never in lingerie boutiques
or in public on the streets
and definitely not at spoken word events
as my words pose a threat
to their cultural sensibilities
god help them in their fragility
if I simply by sharing my truths
should ever cause offence
to this kind of moral champion
like I’ll take any notice
of the self righteous guardians of equality
and their poverty of thought
who will sit in cliques
deciding what is and is not respectable
claiming to speak for that mythical creature they call the silent majority
whilst espousing transphobic hate
and masking it as concern
they yearn for a yesterday
which is never coming back
it matters not that the banner
they wrap themselves in
Saltaire Union Flag Rainbow
or the blood Red of the martyrs
they do not speak for all women
nor will they ever
prejudice is not clever
and ignorance even less
there are no clokes behind which they can hide
disguises no longer work
when the mask falls
and hate filled faces
are finally exposed to the light
I am fed up being told
as a transwoman I should bite my lip
not tell it as it is
and be hidden from view
to suit minds which are
closed to the world
and I have the support
of more women and girls
than they ever would like to admit