Standing Proud Poetry Anthology 2020

Missing Piece Confusing to understand, difficult to master, comforting in its support, the pressure reassuring, like a big warm hug, it grips me tightly, protecting me from the world, validating me, it completes me STANDING PROUD 51

Hope Hope is caring, Hope is sweet, Hope can lift you off your feet, Hope is fragile, Hope is kind, Hope can help you change your mind, Hope is scared, Hope is slow, Hope can help you when you are low, There’s one thing else that you should know, Hope is with you wherever you go. 52 STANDING PROUD

Truth What is said in prose but lies? What is said behind those eyes? The truth comes out through sacrifice. What is said my heart does long, What is said our endless song, The truth burnt deeply in my soul. What is said I need a hug, What is said don’t mean to bug, The truth is who will ever know. What is said when I am gone, What is said was I wrong, The truth is the end of all my doubt. What is said we cannot cope, What is said we can but hope, The truth is loss of my control. STANDING PROUD 53

Pain Where does it hurt? Why does it matter? Pain is a feeling, Our bodies chatter. Why do we do it? It’s hard to say, So many things, Can get in the way. But fear not I tell you, People are here, To listen and support you, and give you some cheer. So now in closing, Please listen hard, Your being’s wellness, So often ignored. 54 STANDING PROUD

Darkness Darkness has fallen, But it is not complete, The moon rises brightly, Casting its own shadows, The light is blinding, Like moths we are drawn to it, Seeking its clarity, Its forgiveness, We draw strength from it, Rising like the sun, Darkness has fallen, But we have not. STANDING PROUD 55

Journey The old brown stile marks the boundary between bustle and peace. It wobbles as you stand on it, crossing the threshold is not easy. There is nothing to hold to support you, once you are halfway you just have to just let go and trust that you will find your balance. Once you have released yourself and dropped down into this new world, the first steps are difficult. It is uphill to the serenity of the distant forest. Each step is one farther from what you know, from what is familiar, but the promise of what is atop the hill is not a lie. False summits exist, but you can always see your goal you just have to accept that getting to places really worth being is rarely easy. Accept the fatigue, embrace it, but don’t dwell on it. Instead concentrate on the steps you take, each one an investment, each one special, the journey as important as the goal. Finally the shade hits you and you look up to see the dappled light through the trees and you realise that you are there, that you were always there, you just did not know it. 56 STANDING PROUD

Message I can’t breathe, I feel right now, Can’t hold a breath, Can’t make a sound. An invisible weight, Upon my chest, Can’t see it there, Can’t change their fate. I want to shout, Say it loud, Can’t find the words, Can’t help but frown. A simple message, Lose the hate, Must spread the love, Articulate. STANDING PROUD 57

Perpetual In the moment, As pen touched paper, it touched me, I was there again, Trying to put it into words, Straining to describe it. The more I thought about it, The more vivid it got, The more difficult to pen. I wrote it again and again, Stuck in an endless loop, Lines breeding lines. And I wanted to destroy it, like that would somehow make it go away. erase its existence, erase me. But there is no eraser, Not on a pen, Not on me. 58 STANDING PROUD

One Hot, Stifling, restrictive, the invisible walls of heat contain me, its dead weight and treacle like density slow me to a crawl. The pressure bearing down on me finally too great, I melt, dripping to the floor on the banks of the lake, I cannot continue. My eyes skip along the glass-like stillness of a liquid transformed. Its mirror finish capturing the world, distorted, frozen in time. A person reflected, but it is not me staring back, just a dried-out husk. Spreading the whole world seems to pause, dehydrated, hibernating, broken, waiting for a spark. A ripple catches my eye, small but not insignificant, the immense power of change. A second and then a third, my eyes dance as I dart between the growing moments of clarity. More and more, bigger and bigger, waves slowly form. No longer can I see the past reflected back to me, just the present, the future. Then it hits me, a cool revolution, my body absorbing every drop. Faster and faster the momentum of metamorphosis increasing exponentially, a cacophony of sound, deafening, many voices are suddenly one. Tears of joy, lost in the rain, adding to the whole, I am reborn. STANDING PROUD 59

Normal The world is strange, I don’t know why, I feel this way, I lived a lie. Hiding feelings, Became so easy, A normal life, It did tease me. I somehow thought, I could deny, The person who, I belie. Instead I found, Who I ought to be, I searched so long, That one was me. 60 STANDING PROUD

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NICOLA LONGWORTH-COOK (She/Her) Socialist. Pacifist. Environmentalist LGBT Activist Inclusive Feminist Humanist Horticulturalist Lover of… lists [email protected] Facebook/NLCPoetry STANDING PROUD 63

A Coming Out Memory We’re in the hallway. I’m sat on the stairs, hands clutching the bannister. The white gloss paint thick from many coatings, runs and drips, bobbling under my clammy fingers. The carpet is dusky pink, worn on the treads. Radio 4 murmuring from the kitchen. Light seeps through the frosted front door glass, grey, chill. Time stands still, waiting for the words that will end this relationship, “It’s her - she’s the one I’m seeing.” Silence. A nod of recognition, understanding. After a moment that dragged like a glacier, he responds through tears, “But your life will be so hard...” 64 STANDING PROUD

A Bomb Explodes 1996, Central Line, packed carriage Me and my new love standing close. Not touching but something burning bright between us. Just leaving Oxford Circus He turned around and saw - what? Two women in love? Two women threatening his sense of How the world is ordered? Two insults to his masculinity? Maybe it was the red ribbons That gave us away - did he even know about World AIDS Day? Anyway, he felt he had the right To say whatever he wanted, To shout his hate undaunted In our startled, scared faces. And we could only stand - nowhere to go. No one intervened, no one even raised a look Kept ears filled with their Walkman Eyes fixed on their book. And two minutes to Tottenham Court Road Felt like a lifetime trapped in danger Felt like watching a bomb explode And being the bomb. STANDING PROUD 65

London Pride - July 1998 Heat, so hot Crowds, crushing the pavements. Excitement, anticipation building These people are not the bland, everyday These people are my people now. Your hand, holding mine tight, For the first time in plain sight. Baker Street we gathered and Couldn’t stop looking around at The exotic, colourful individuals The sights and sounds of freedom, Everyone belonging, everyone a friend. The long slow parade through Streets of grey festooned with rainbows And balloons, and feathers and sparkles. London alive. Energy whistles in the air. And after, the tube packed full of gay people Oh the joy, smiles of recognition Party atmosphere For this one day a year. The thrill of being the majority The simple chance to be ourselves And be seen, without fear. Heady with Pride and riding high. 66 STANDING PROUD

Isolation Past Today we’re trapped in a moment’s choice But my choice was easy this time. Twenty years ago, another isolation, at first Seemed sublime, seemed like heaven But soon contorted into hell. We had taken a leap towards each other, Stepping out of worlds that we knew well. The space was small but seemed all that we needed. Our lives centred on each other’s eyes. The burning secret sun of our love Kept us warm, it’s weight Pulled us out of orbit, circulation, Made us distant from our friends. Drew up a barrier between life then and before. So, we only had each other and each new moment. And we didn’t know how to grow And gradually it wasn’t enough. Insular intensity burned everything we touched. We were us against the world But it was like we were invisible Worse, we’d done this to ourselves. We were vanishing, unseen I remember realising such a need to reach out But I didn’t know how to bridge The worlds we’d Fallen between. STANDING PROUD 67

After the Assault Where does it hurt? Here. She clutches a fist And bangs it to her breast, And here. Her hands cradle her bloody, bruised head Eyes screw up tight A single tear escapes. Where does it hurt? Her voice quavering, eyes open wide now, Everywhere. It hurts everywhere. 68 STANDING PROUD

Safe Space Bring me your bruises, your scars. The many tiny wounds, The deep blows to your psyche. That burden of shame accumulating in your heart. Bring me the pain of difference, indifference. The solitude of hiding your tender truth. The silent howling fear of rejection and hurt. The hollow echo of being unseen, unheard. And, if you let me, we will find out who you are. Wash away the years of tears, Soften that carapace of defence. Fill emptiness with embrace, Together create a safe space And finally, perhaps, find capacity for love. STANDING PROUD 69

Let This Be The Healing (After ‘Little Prayer’ by Danez Smith) Let this be the healing Let our polarised population relax Let division dissolve, melt like wax Remould, find a new form. Let our new shape be open and warm. Let it include all the elements Of society, equally, value feeling Let this be the healing. 70 STANDING PROUD

Queer Queer. And old word, spoken with malice, Or sniggers... a cruel word. Loaded with shame and rejection. Outsider. A threat, A fist clenched - ready to hit. Or clenched in fear of being found out. A shuddering old insult. Queer A new word, spoken with power And confidence... a freeing word. Gifted with pride and belonging. Chosen family. A hand held out in friendship Arms open, inclusive, love is love An accepting, warm embrace. STANDING PROUD 71

Beautiful Thing I wear this ring And it’s a beautiful thing But not as beautiful as what it signifies Not as precious as our love drenched lives Not as strong as the bond between us Not as soft as your breath asleep Not as warm, not as deep As this love. But, that I can wear this ring, That’s a beautiful thing. 72 STANDING PROUD

Masks And Rainbows (An Uneasy Portrait of LGBT+ Identity Erasure in the Time of Covid-19) Some of us are accustomed to a mask. I don’t wear my rainbows proudly every day. Some of us keep them closer to our hearts - But constant, treasured symbols of belonging Whether deep in a secret pocket or Tattooed boldly on our skin; Suddenly it seems they’re being taken away. And uncomfortable with this doesn’t quite cover it. It’s eating up my ‘Mrs Reasonable’ facade I’m a sulky sibling - being made to share is hard Feel the outrage in me building - no it really isn’t fair! When society runs fevered, grasping, stealing Our dear old friend, the Rainbow Pride flag Tips over into a new meaning, However worthy - (hope is, after all, deserved). It’s hurting. Because it’s re-appropriation, identity erasure, theft. Though it’s hard to admit it for fear of being misunderstood, Called out as treason - like an attack on the NHS This betrayal breeds an uneasy contempt, - many say, “Feels like our Rainbow Pride flag never really mattered anyway.” For fifty years six jaunty colours showed the way To recognise each other - lesbian, bi or gay. To signify safety and acceptance Support for fabulousness and difference But it seems the majority never saw it that way. And it hurts more when your own cynicism crows, proved right. Like losing another innocent in the night. STANDING PROUD 73

Rainbows mean hope - I get it But keep to the curve - I begged, Is it too late? Is the damage already done? Steps to inclusion stumbled backwards? Is my minority status now reinforced, visibility gone? Or is it just a fear that will fade away, Like a crumpled crayon drawing in a window, Bleaching in the sunshine every day? 74 STANDING PROUD

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COLBY WREN FIEREK (They/Them) Colby has recently completed their degree in Creative and Professional Writing and Screenwriting at the University of Worcester. They love to write short stories, filled with social realism and character-driven narratives, one of which was published in the Odd Voice Out anthology last year. They should be working on an historical novel about working class teens in 1970’s London, but they probably aren’t. Being in the Out2Gether writing group has finally given them the chance to focus on building their confidence with poetry and explore more introspective themes in their work. https://colbywren.wixsite.com/website STANDING PROUD 77

A Letter To My Younger Self Hi Colby, Things are pretty tough for you right now. I know how you’ve felt. Uncomfortable in your skin. Like everyone has the instructions except you. You’re thirteen now. This was meant to be a new start. A chance to change. To reinvent yourself. To leave the old you behind. The fire and anger that you couldn’t understand. And you won’t understand. Not for a few years yet. Biding your time can hurt so much. And the people around you right now just don’t seem to see you in the way they should. The way that everyone should. Because you deserve that. But you don’t know who you are yet. And you don’t know who I am either. But I know who you are. And I know the person you were always meant to be. The person you always have been. You don’t know your name yet. But I’ve found it. In the time I’m from, there are people who will appreciate you. Not all of them. But some. And that’s a start. You should know, the things that worry you. The fears, they won’t all go away. The obstacles are still there. But the ones you’re facing now will fade in time. You will get braver. You will find yourself. You deserve the happiness that is to come. 78 STANDING PROUD

Battleground I feel so much safer Where the shield of the internet Allows my words to flow and flourish And with this confidence, I found myself Jumping in To an argument I could never hope to win. When you had just as much confidence, conviction In the opinions that were so set On defining me out of existence I’d check your feed with a dizzy sweating rush of laughter Ignoring the squirm of sickness in my stomach Until you saw fit to broadcast To places my friends, my family could see. That was the moment I chose to Pull back from this battle As your banners unfurled with a more disturbing sigil than I first imagined.. Your ranks amassed with Reason, logic, facts over feelings. Suited men, clean faces. Pockets, palms greased With the blood money of oil billionaires. And we-the renegades-guerrillas in the lush jungles of Kindness and acceptance Things you could never see if you’ve buried the grass in carpet bombs. On the side lines, I tunnelled for sources, for science Whilst my comrades fought back with firebombs flaming. We butted against your shield wall Your ignorance, your twisting Of the metal they carried true On my behalf. Until a stalemate was reached. With my side wounded. But I’m glad. Glad, because you were left exposed. It showed you up for something I had long suspected.. Still, I wish I’d had the chance To toast you with a Molotov. STANDING PROUD 79

Internalised Here come the invaders With their silly striped flags In colours we don’t like With their new words we can’t be bothered to learn With their experiences we don’t share. And if we don’t share, then it must mean That they don’t belong Since there is only so much space Within this abstract concept Only so many options to choose from. They’re coming to steal our resources. They make everyone else look bad. It’s their fault we’re not taken seriously. These people we’ve never met. We are the ones bashing pegs into holes So everything is neat and tidy and presentable Somebody has to choose who doesn’t deserve compassion So we’ve decided it’s our job People on the internet told us we were right So it must be true. Maybe next week, we’ll choose Some other group to pit ourselves against. On our big spinning wheel of people we don’t understand. After all. It gets tiring, Putting all your energy into hating one kind of person. Far easier to mix it up. Keep people guessing Whether they’ll be next. 80 STANDING PROUD

Overalls They came in a package from overseas Clear plastic wrapped and tied with a ribbon A tube of Love Hearts nestled inside. It wasn’t the weather for them. Not at the time. The short legs reaching just above my knees. I pulled my socks up. And my shirt down. And pinned a badge to the front - A skeleton with a tongue outstretched. The straps are uneven - cut with scissors Perhaps twenty years ago, when they were new. I look in the mirror, and things fall into place. The me that I want to be looks back. The fabric’s heavy. Grounding. And already I’m searching for more Trinkets and treasures. Things I can sew and pin to the denim To make myself - the me inside More visible. STANDING PROUD 81

A Bright Spot The promise of warmth Of clouds being chased away A middle ground, between the two Extremes. A neutral. But playful. Sweeping sands, and summer A time before. Custard in a plastic bowl. Crayon wax between nails. The shrill squeaking of a hall floor pounded By plimsols and painted lines. A bright ring in the centre of a playground. A toilet with a light that flickers, Bricks with deep gullies, and crumpled paper towels. Scented with cheap soap and foam footballs. Crouched down and piecing together wooden axels and cork wheels. 82 STANDING PROUD

Reminders My writing is allowed to be messy. It’s allowed to be harsh, and difficult, and queer in the ways that others might not appreciate. My characters are allowed to be grey, and have flaws and faults that are hard to look past. My plots are allowed to be small, simple moments, not part of a sprawling epic with dragons and elves. They’re allowed to be real. My dialogue is allowed to flow to places that I wasn’t expecting, and break the rules. My messages are allowed to be personal and uplifting. They are allowed to project my thoughts, feelings and anxieties, I am allowed to write the things that make me happy. STANDING PROUD 83

A Collection Of Colours The warm glow of streetlights Above smooth painted bricks And heavy evening clouds Before darkness falls. 84 STANDING PROUD

Ideas I seek attention. That was what they wrote In a file on me at school Because I felt things so deeply And saw injustice in the way things were. I still do. And now I seek attention Because I don’t fit in the box They put me in when I was born. And I dye my hair and pierce my nose And that makes me a trender. I don’t perform androgyny perfectly And that means I don’t try hard enough. Never once have they asked me if it makes me happy. STANDING PROUD 85

Downpour Umbrellas come in handy. As protection from bad weather Or as a sword and shield: Just a small sliver of resistance But the most useful thing Is how much ground they cover And how many people can take shelter underneath Though some may seek to splinter off With their own waxed hats and jackets They will always have the umbrella For some, that is all they need. Knowing that there is a place for them beneath the canopy And someone’s hand to hold When the clouds burst. 86 STANDING PROUD

Crafted Sometimes things aren’t cut and dry And such a wide range of thoughts and feelings can’t be encompassed by just One word It’s okay to acquire more Collect them in a book, like stickers Paint the space between with colours That make you happy Because this is your masterpiece To mould with your hands, and sprinkle with glitter And if the feeling takes you Peel parts off, when the shape doesn’t seem quite right Because when it dries, the only thing that matters Is how your art makes you feel. STANDING PROUD 87

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KATHRYN BRICE (She/Her) Kathryn Brice is a published sports magazine writer and an experienced photographer available for weddings and pet photography. She also works with clients to capture their gardens forever in photo books. Writing for this book has been a challenge and a wonderful experience, I hope you enjoy and that the poems will resonate with you. Please make contact at kathrynbrice.com STANDING PROUD 89

Lost In The Movement I lost me I met him and lost me I forgot me I lost me in the movement of life Marriage, children, divorce I found me, the one I lost She was always there The lost soul searching for the IT, THE ONE, THE MOMENT I found the one I lost I’m holding on to her, reminding her to not get lost in the movement of life To move with honesty, truth and to love herself Don’t get lost in the movement of life. 90 STANDING PROUD

I Am Gay Can I say it? Will I say it? What if I say it? Will it change it? Do I want it? Can I do it? Just say it! Do it! You want it. Go for it. I AM GAY! I said it. STANDING PROUD 91

Black And White Is life black and white boy meets girl get married have children live happily ever after? I want rainbows and unicorns to choose who I love girl meets girl gets married has children lives happily ever after Labels No labels why do we need labels? I’m me, the one and only take me for who I am don’t label me for I am me 92 STANDING PROUD

The Artist Paint what you see for I am me Pride Hiding me finding me being me living me loving me standing proud in the crowd STANDING PROUD 93

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STEVE J. MARTIN (He/Him) Steve lives with his husband Chris, their three chickens and their cat Tiny, who is definitely the one in charge. In his day job he works for a local housing charity, and during lockdown has been working from home. He hadn’t tried creative writing since leaving school before Standing Proud started in February and has been enjoying this new creative outlet. STANDING PROUD 95

Playing With The Original Pride Flag Colours First is the stereotype. I can’t help it, I like it! Next heat and passion. So warm, so bold The feel of the sun on my back in midsummer. Squinting in the sun. I see reflections dapple the sea. Nature bursting forth. Fecund and lush. Looking down I see shoals in the clear ocean Above me, the rich blue of an early evening Mediterranean sky. Then as the sun dips below the horizon, the sky is tipping over into black 96 STANDING PROUD

Matthew Shepard They wanted to rob you When they did They also beat you Pistol whipped They tortured you Tied you to a fence Left you to die You weren’t dead when they found you Tied to the fence They took you to Laramie To the hospital They tried to save you To fix your fractured skull But still you died But you were more than how you died A talented actor Fluent in German and French Popular Let’s try to remember The whole of you The young man of such promise STANDING PROUD 97

Pride We are lions and lionesses Come together in Pride A common bond Together we are strong We are Out2gether Come together in Pride LGBT Together we are strong 98 STANDING PROUD

1992 Excitement builds as we board the train and speed to London. A bunch of young queers and baby dykes anticipating fun, thrilled with the idea of seeing so many others who we have never met and yet are somehow‘family’. We soon become aware we aren’t the only ‘family’ on the train. As we leave the train and head for the tube, we spot yet more like us. Some flamboyantly dressed and obviously heading our way, others identified by more subtle clues. Emerging from the tube the noise hits you, a tangible expression of happiness and fun. It feels like we will all be friends forever. And, in that moment, that every day can be like this. Really the day was only a day. But the Pride I felt that day I still carry with me. I always will. STANDING PROUD 99

Black And White Destroyer Verdant green and glorious sunshine and bantam hens clucking and pecking and content and free Sudden panic the focus now on the black and white destroyer predator stalking the innocent prey Away! Away! The chase is on Out you get LEAVE MY GIRLS ALONE! 100 STANDING PROUD