Poetically Queer #1

Poetically Queer

Contains explicit language

Poetically Queer

As a queer writer, I wanted to to give voice to those who often go unheard. This zine is a creative collaboration with my community.

I hope it will be the first of many. L

Space to express Space to listen

Space to understand another’s experience

Space Space to uncover

Space to learn

Space to find comfort in the uncomfortable

Space Space to have fun

Space to be vulnerable

Space to find out we’ve got something incredible

I am a poem

If I could crawl inside your skin

If I could swallow you whole

I love the skin and bones of you Your sinew

Your marrow

What I wouldn’t give And then I would miss the softness of our curves in contact under tangled sheets

The gentle strength of your hand in mine

The yield of our lips meeting I would miss the missing you when contact breaks

The sigh of your breath into my neck

And when you close your eyes I will whisper myself to you

Your hands will bring me into being A poem in your heart

There Are No Casual Strangers by Russell

Who would need the sheets of yesterday except you still cling to them, pages written on by you, overwritten songs of your hair.

Impressions of the past linger in the various fonts of love. You are too much for me in languages I cannot speak.

The sun through the blinds at a September angle, has still enough warmth to evaporate the letters of your smile I inhale, and hold.

She stands upon my eyelids

Her hair is tangled in mine She takes the form of my hands

The colour of my eyes Is engulfed in my shadow

As a stone against the sky

Her eyes are always open

She won’t let me sleep Her dreams fully illuminated

Evaporate suns

Makes me laugh, cry and laugh

Forces me to speak, when there is nothing to say

The Lover (translated from L’Amoureuse by Paul Éluard)

I have an aversion: by Rose

I have an aversion: A French woman

Took over my lover, So your entry to The world of poetry Via French Paul Set of my Parisian Alarm when eyelids An amoreuse Were mentioned I’ll be OK though - Tres bien in fact –I’m playing a game Or two – jeux? Avec mes yeux Upon a different prize

I will not fall! by Stacey

As I stare at the black cat on the wall, I wonder when did I fall

When I say fall, it is not in a bad way I mean it in my own personal way

I am looking around the room And I am pleased I managed to have the courage To walk through that pub door I like the vibe, I feel people’s happiness When they speak I may seem reserved But I like to retreat and be me In time I will flourish And I will not fall!

Love Language? by Annette/Zak

What is your love language? What words do you choose to express yourself In which way do you explain your feeling How do you paint a picture with words

What is your love language? The words that come to mind Beauty, lust, let’s go on a date it’s a must

Hearts and flowers walking hand in hand in rain showers

What is your love language?

How do you describe your desires? To touch, to move, slowly and close up Like a steaming kettle or racing car or fast train

What is the universal love language? Which one do you use? French, German, Latin, Hip-hop, Braille, or even mose code

Simply put, whoever responds to your or their call is the language that unlocks love; you choose that spoken tool

Women like me

WOMEN LIKE ME

Where are they all

The women like me

Our scars not worn as badges

But warnings on our hearts

Klaxoned by gut-wrenching alarm Drummed by adrenaline

A heartbeat tattoo

Where are we Unseen for lack of feminine influence

As we are, as we were, as we will be Time measured not by filters or fillers

But by unedited truth Take us as we come determination Soapboxes sticky with spewedforth truth

And that which we are unable to deny

The sisterhood is broken Wombs that refuse, choose, never were

Defying definitions eons old Brazen dismissals of expectation

Spill from lips and shine in line edged eyes

Denying the proffered deal

Where are we all

The women like me

The ones you don't or won't or can't see

Here, where we've always been There, where we always are Everywhere unseen

We do not hide but your gaze averts

Fingers in your ears la la la

To keep us out of view

Out of voice, side-lined Tolerated, even celebrated (Though usually too little and too late)

And yet, unwelcome Where are they all

The women like me

At your back, by your side, raising you up

As we've always been Everywhere unseen

What if incandescent rage is my natural state

What if I scream my frustration

You never fucking listen to my whisper of discontent So perhaps I will howl under the moon after all

Not the full moon mythical but her dark twisted twin Shadowed and sequestered beyond the sun's reach

Poetry in fucking motion

But you only read the lines that tame me Temper me

Small doses

I'm not fucking mdma

You cannot microdose my anger

You never fucking see the pain carried in my face So why let you see my frustration-painted frown lines Feathered creases crone-like at the corners of my eyes Windows to my fucking soul?

Broken glass in rotting timber frames

It is all-consuming and the bitterness on your tongue a prelude to the soul-destroying poison that I carry with me

No posies or poppets politely tucked into my reticule Hard truth hag stones swing in my pockets

Glinting glass bottles of heart-stopping hemlock Crystal-cut like perfumery potions

Their beauty concealing my deathly disdain No need for an athame in this witch's wardrobe

I'd rather just poke you in the fucking eye

And having raged my relentless anger

It subsides again Fury flows to ebb Crimson flamed waves crash to shore

And the sun sets in the nearmoonless sky

I draw ragged breath, paused to howl again

Night shifts my beauty to velvet black sensuality

The sea reflects no celestial body

Only my flesh shimmers its surface as her toenail scrapes my cheek paling into pallor Until the bright twin gathers again her waned strength to reclaim a sky defined by absence

The stars blink out as I stand fighting to hold a black night fast

Until I'm too exhausted by the turning tide

And my sister-light turns her face to yours Fucking traitorous twin of mine

After Adrienne Rich: by Georgia

When her husband shot himself dead She finally felt open to say what had to be said She spoke about her future, her love The way she wrote was like looking from above She used colour to describe her feelings And nature to portray her surroundings and dealings She painted a picture of kissing to awake The depths and details, prove the love wasn’t fake

My body aches for your touch

And my arms yearn to hold you

The desire to weave our limbs around each other builds

And I gasp and yield as your touch awakens me

Your tongue is fire upon my skin

Your kisses dissolving me

As hands explore and deepen their way

I am dreaming lucid

Every movement a ripple of colour

A pulsing of joy

And I flow with need, urgency gathering you to me

Until I am glory once more upon your exquisite fist

Anything’s a dildo if you’re brave enough: by Georgia

Anything’s a dildo if you’re brave enough What have they been sticking up their muff

I can think of plenty that are a dil-don’t Who’d be sticking a cacti up their cunt You really won’t get a chufty badge For sticking a post box up your vag Now honestly no fanny shaming here

If you can take 10” I will cheer Plenty of lube to loosen your wizard’s sleeve And you will be amazed what you can achieve A good vibrator to get your lips around The special rabbit to give your clit a pound Some people like to use it in the shower Rumour has it, it’s amazing on your flower

I really am the first to say Embrace, love and treat your vajajay So to round up keep flicking your bean There’s lots you can use, that’s not a peen

I’m here to support my wife: by Amy

I love my wife She’s really hot She has great tits That hit my spot

They Do Not Fear Us

Even as they claim to be Fearful

We hear the lie

They are not more afraid that we are except we are in fear for our lives They are in fear that their normal will be undermined

It is a fallacy

Phobia is a misnomer They do not fear us They hate us

Homomisia

Transmisia

Queermisia

Homo Hate

Trans Hate

Queer Hate No longer

Not one more minute

Fear is the stuff of faith God-fearing

Fear makes a good Christian Supremacy fears being toppled

There is no fear in your hearts There is hate

Pure unadulterated hatred

Name it for what it is The opposite of your saviour’s teachings

Your messiah preached love

What you preach is hate

What we seek Is love

And our love is hard won We must strive for our love to be allowed Yet your hatred is you say

Sacred There is no sanctity when you carry hate in your heart

So where do we find sanctuary?

The sadness in your head: by Georgia

When the sadness is in your head people often think the best option is dead

When all your energy is taken to fight You just want the darkness to go to see the light

If you were to ignore it you will eventually be happy Maybe for a brief moment, then it will be crappy

Go for a walk, exercise and some fresh air Do you think the constant voices care

They don’t give a fuck if I'm outside All my hope and enthusiasm has died

The crisis team say have a cuppa and a bath Yeah sure, that’ll save me you having a laugh

Normal is a shit word but that’s honestly what I want to be A genuine, happy, useful member of society

Yes I can look back and see that I became happy with my loss

I held my nerve and used patience to find what was on the other side, of losing nearly every damn thing

I lost my world and gained a nightmare, BUT one new dawn on yet another scary day –some gave way to a settling in my soul

And an acceptance of the time it would take to gain any, any peace of mind

Wearing Mum’s Makeup

A mask to hide behind A disguise so complete At least, that's what I thought Living woman-mother

In a role I learned I ought A uniform of blandness

My rage in bursts of storm Then hidden in false smiles

As I plastered on the norm Her face was calm and mellow Her laughter pale & hollow The knowing I was lying Kept at bay with every swallow Her demeanour doting mother-wife A tired screenplay you could follow She was docile, she was placid My stomach? Full of acid Spitting moments overwhelmed Feeling hidden, feeling cornered Dark and silent by his side A silent, fervent promise I will not be here next year This half-life won't abide

A breaking point Epiphany

Revelations broke me open There'll come a day, an hour When she gets there sore and broken And so she did And so did I

We joined forces, hands, and eyes No more a mask

The make up smeared aside One defining declaration Life in colour opened wide No more wearing mum's makeup No more dress up, no more play I am woman, mother, lover I am whole and full each day Moments filled with laughter Hours filled with love

Life lived full of feelings A real mother for my darlings Leading by my own light A life lived true and bright Showing them don't settle Trust your heart will guide you right

Free and flying, fear is gone I wished for lives on other lines I created, curated, this one It's theirs, and hers and all of ours And most of all, it's mine

What does it mean to me

To be in and with my community

It means to speak And listen too

It means you see me and I hear you It means so much To take up our space

To fill it with love and joy All of us face to face It means when we grieve Were not along It means shutting our hate And all we won’t condone It’s where we share Our tears, our fears It’s friendship that lasts Through tough times, and fair What does community mean to me

It means becoming, and being loved as, the person I always wanted to be Dedicated to the Poetically Queer Poetry Groups of 2022 – and especially Georgia who reminded me that poems can rhyme!

Thank you to my amazing Amy, my incredible queer community, Southsea for being my home town and a safe space, my kids for not being totally horrified by me as a parent and to every participant who contributed their writing to this zine and their time to our blossoming poetry community. Big love, you are phenomenal humans all.

All photos are my own. All purple tabbed pages are my own poetry. Pink tabbed pages denote contributions from project participants, included with permission.

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