Nature – 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

Pioneer

In this poem I celebrate the life of April Ashley. April for those who don’t know, made history by becoming the first person to ever undergo gender reassignment surgery. I’ve given it the title Pioneer, I hope you enjoy the read

Pioneer

You paved the way
for girls like me
to be women
your name of choice
selected to illustrate
the transformative change
which takes place when winter winds retreat
to be replaced by the first days of spring.

you were a woman
who wasn’t allowed to be a girl
because of the times you grew up in
a child of the inter war years
people feared those like you
a pioneer who wanted just to be herself .

after your operation
you married well
mixed in influential circles
yet those who sought wealth and power
cut the root from your life
declaring you were never a wife
nor were you legally wed
because of what your birth certificate said
misgendering you as they did it
not understanding
you were a pioneer
who accepted no limits
that others would rigidly impose on your desires
they couldn’t extinguish your fire

you made liars of hypocrites
you knew
who walked the highest of society’s corridors
and lived in places where gold cards met golden gates
to create a fortress
for those who could afford it
try as you might
you couldn’t ignore the map that nature had planned

though it was Caroline who would bring me
to an understanding of myself
through her I would learn of you see
the pioneer who sought to change the world
who chose the name April
to illustrate
that you could be
the change you wanted to be in the world
and made it a safer place for girls like me to blossom into ourselves

Stirrings

In this poem which I’ve titled Stirrings I look at how the teenage trans girl of the mid to late 70’s learned from the music of the original disco queen Donna Summer that even trans girls can be bisexual and how I managed to embrace this side of myself without ever revealing it to anyone. I hope you enjoy the read.

Stirrings

It was Donna Summer who confirmed
my attraction to women
I knew had stirrings
Since the day I looked at Marie
as well as her brother
You know from America’s first musical family
I was at what my mother called a dangerous age
Questioning my sexuality was according to her logic
The kind of thing movie stars got paid to do
But it wasn’t real life Hollywood wives she said
Had far too much fun and got way too much sex
Without having to face the responsibility
Of the women and girls she knew
If she thought that society shared her view
On these topics boy was she in for a shock
The truth is I was ready to rock her world
To its very foundations
I experienced tingling sensations
Beyond both her imaginations and comprehension
I was open to suggestions and invitations from all
I would answer nature’s call
In whatever way it called me
I fancied Donny And Marie but it wasn’t till Donna came along
I knew I felt love for them both and realised
How unkind some choices can be.

The Crossing

I wrote this poem in response to a call out on sensuality in Scotland which was inspired by Nan Sheppard’s book The Living Mountain and it was recently published in Lucent an anthology of women’s writing in response to the call out as was my poem The Haunting. The inspiration for this piece came as I recalled a visit to Arran and how I connected with nature due to the peace I felt on the island I’ve titled it The Crossing I hope you enjoy the read

The Crossing

In the bracing late winter air
I stood at the top of goatfell discovering myself :
in moments alone with nature .
I knew, just as dusk began to set on Arran skies .
I could no longer lie, to myself or anyone else .
a journey had to start,

my heart screamed woman .
calling me by a name
not yet chosen ,
telling me she will take me home .
but to ready myself
and prepare for crossing .

there would be significant storms .
before arriving
on the shores,
of a place
where I would finally be myself
having completed the route
she mapped in a geographers heart
when I breathed in the force of her power .
allowing her to take me where she must
to learn what I needed to know
to blossom in to the full bloom of my truth

Echoes

In this poem I reflect on two of the strong women who helped shape me into the woman I’ve become. I’ve given it the title Echoes I hope you enjoy the read.

Echoes

You will hear them in the silences
in the time when night and morning mingle
before the daybreak signals a change of shift
the echoes of voices and memories
will whisper to you in sunshine and snowstorms
equipping you to cope with whatever
nature decides

A child of the Clyde whose maternal rivers ran red
you recall stories told by a gran who worked in service
convincing you of the need for independence and socialism
to build a better Scotland
as she introduced you to poetry
music and heritage
saying Scotland was so much more than biscuit tins and Burns
Kailyard she said was the preserve
of Conservative Scotland
and a world we’ll never inhabit
nor want to

then there was the pragmatic mum who helped you discover yourself
in more ways than she could ever have imagined or wanted
these echoes do not haunt you
instead they bring comfort
in the stillness of night
at the time when the stars act as street lights
they watch you through the night
wrapping you in warmth
as the darkness sprinkles
moondust on your dreams

it is in these silent moments
when you lie sleeping
you’re heart will hear the words
of those who have made you
the fighter you are
as thoughts from your past form patterns
to be crafted into poems
dropping jewels in your memory bank
to be worn as symbols of womanhood.

Straight Lines

As this is National Poetry Day I thought I would write a new poem on this year’s theme of vision. There may not be a live event this year because of Covid, but a poet has to do what a poet has to do. I’ve given it the title Straight Lines and there are some titles of some my previous poems in the text as I’m sure you’ll be able to spot I hope you enjoy the read

Straight Lines

I knew from an early age
I had a stage
on which I needed to perform
to share my Spoken Words
speak my truths
let those willing to listen
understand my stories
why I hated the Tories
and loved my mum’s Lemon Dress
how the work in at the UCS
turned a primary school child
in to a political activist
who would send a Letter To Earth
and always put Tights Before Trident
a rebel I would never be silenced
or told I had to please others
and put myself last
my restless heart knew
the full mix of emotions
was a gift given to creatives
which others viewed as the curse of dreamers and thinkers
no wonder so many are driven to drink
though not me shopping has always been my addiction of choice
a poet I will use my voice to help others discover themselves
in whatever way they must
at school I put my trust in teachers
who taught me of Lochhead and Morgan
I will sometimes give trigger warnings
In case my content offends
those who live in bubbles
as my honesty may trouble or even shock them
in their gated communities
where minds are as narrow
as the garden paths
that led the privilege they enjoy
so yes I do go to Ann Summers
to buy sex toys
I thought that line
would capture attention
just remember that imagination
is the mother of invention
and creativity its younger sister
the late developer of the family
who explores identity , nature and sexuality
in ways thought knows but will never freely speak
for fear of reprimand
from a dad who wears the Clothes Of An Honest Man
and a mother who constantly complains about the Dress Sense of her daughters
even though she taught them The Art Of Wearing Make Up
and how to use words as Camouflage
to disguise what they don’t want others to discover
from my youngest years
I took comfort in books and magazines
to escape the scheme I grew up in
ignoring those who claimed
I would amount to nothing
knowing my worth
never believed creativity was a curse
or even worse a plague
I knew I had a stage
on which I needed to shine
and the girl who couldn’t draw a straight line
in her art class
still can’t
you see art taught me
straight lines
are for narrow minds
and as a poet I need to think bigger
than those with limited horizons

Waterloo Moon

In this poem which I’ve written for bisexual awareness month I share my thoughts about one of those random encounters which change you in more ways than you would have thought possible before it actually happened. Moon It relates the story of the night I almost got a girlfriend when I wasn’t even looking for romance and a relationship with either sex was the last thing on my mind. In sharing this poem I would like to hope it shows that bisexuality is all about the attraction we may feel to a particular individual rather than what parts they may or may not have and that it is in fact a world away from the greedy sex mad stereotypes we have to endure in the press and media. I’ve titled it Waterloo Moon, I hope you enjoy the read

Waterloo Moon

We met in the Waterloo bar
as the chill winds of autumn
blew cold on a late October evening
as I searched for a seat
a woman invited me to sit
with her and her younger friend
who told me she liked guys
I told her the same
I think we were both playing the game
as a passion between two women
bubbled underneath the surface

we waited to see
who would be first
to admit they wanted the forbidden other
sensing our comfort in each other’s company
her older friend
left after a while
but she stayed
even though I teased her
about in remaining a gay bar
with someone like me
after her friend had gone

by this time we were both turned on
and got another round of drinks
eventually we did the girl thing
and went to the ladies
as a pair
standing at the mirror
I complimented her hair
saying as a transwoman
I would love to look that good
she rebuked me
stop saying your trans
you’re a woman and that is all that matters
we cuddled and she thrust her breasts in to my face
to excite me
in that one moment
this night made realise the power of being a woman
and I gave thanks to God
for her gift of panty liners
as we applied fresh costs of lippy
we did as nature directed
and sitting at a table made for two
felt something so electric
it could have powered the world

this is a connection only women and girls will ever truly know
but time moved on
I reaped the harvest I had sown
I doubted myself
when we left the bar
she wanted to take me dancing
and I know I should have gone
instead of reluctantly declining
blaming the time of night
and putting my duty of care
before my wants and wishes
believe me I hungered to kiss every part of her
and I think she would have liked it
but alas my chance never came

it was to my shame
I never took the risk
and our kiss under the Waterloo Moon
was to lead to a parting filled
with sorrows and regrets
yet still I cherish the memory
of that night
of her hands taking me
to places of delight
I had never known
I often think of her
and that golden moment
when she made me
feel like a woman
with no help from Shania

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

Nature’s Plan

In this poem I share my thoughts as to why being a woman is as natural to me as getting up in the morning. I’ve given it the title Nature’s Plan I hope you enjoy I read.

Nature’s Plan

I have lived in darkness
cried in pain
found the strength to smile again
sometimes I struggled
there were battles I lost
but I survived the winter frost
a wound was given time to heal
I found the self I knew to be real
content I left nature to get on with her plan
I don’t know why I’m here
I’m just glad that I am a woman

The Safest Space

In this poem I look back at the horrific attack on the Polo Lounge earlier this week and give the perpetrators a very clear message. If you think your childish games can destroy the confidence of a community who face the kind of prejudice that would see you fold like a piece of paper you are completely and totally deluded. The Polo is an iconic space for Glasgow’s LGBTI + community and not only for us but for our friends and family members as it was often the first place they would go to relax with LGBTI loved ones as it was an inclusive environment which welcomed allcomers through those famous doors and I have no doubt that will continue to be the case for generations to come. So trust me when I say you don’t scare us and your not starting now. I’ve titled The Safest Space, I hope you enjoy the read.

This picture shows the rainbow of diversity that terrifies the homophobes and transphobes.

The Safest Space

It was written in the language of cowards
whose hate could not be satisfied
by blood lust and anger
the intent was to scare
by scarring the confidence of others
on discovering there was something called difference
they poured the blood of innocents
on the closes, and stairways
of schemes villages, and shires
but this was our haven
away from the troubles of the world
it was where the girl stepped out of the closet
and blossomed to trans womanhood
In this bar I didn’t hide myself from friends
and when those I knew ventured in
on girls nights or with gay and lesbian friends
they all said they’d never seen me
looking so comfortable and relaxed
and dreams and desires were shared
in a space we thought was safe
our sense of place gave us identity
in communities that clustered together
through nessesscity and geography
and the fact that our city is not
as metropolitan as it likes to think
pink and frilly pounds are viewed
as a ticket to tolerance rather than acceptance
as those on the periphery pander
to the bigotry of yesteryear
with fear wearing masks of tradition
and hatred hidden for decades
now aggressively displayed
by those whose machismo is as fake
as their tans
and would benefit from lessons
in spelling and art
before attempting to critique anyone else
for daring to be ourselves in the safest space of all