All posts by t h



Ex actress, ex long-haul traveller Trudy Howson’s poetry explores landscapes, internal and external. She writes about the landscape of the LGBT community with warmth and humour. Her work is topical and inspirational. She is currently developing a living interactive form of poetry.

Trudy has performed her poetry in pubs, clubs, theatres, fields and forests. On Boats, Buses, Local and National Radio and TV. She has performed extensively in India, South East Asia and Burma

Her poetry has been published in The Telegraph, The Times, and The London Review, as well as numerous magazines and online publications.

Trudy wrote a living-interactive poem for The London Olympics called “Going for Gold” which the BBC filmed and used as a trailer in the run up to the event.

For the last 3 years Trudy has been performing her work and hosting INCITE@The Phoenix, a popular monthly LGBT poetry event in an iconic theatrical venue in the West End.                            


Polari                    London’s Gay Literary Salon on the Southbank
St Pauls Cathedral Poem for launch of ‘No to Hate Crime Week’
Beach Hut Poetry  Channel 4 “Homes by the Sea”
“Together”               Film for LGBT History Month
“Schwule”               International Holocaust Day
Raise The Bar          Soho
L’ Escargot             Soho
Vauxhall Tavern       South London
Two Brewers           South London
Out in Brighton        Radio
“Banned!”               Brighton Town Hall/Library
Roundhouse             Radio Queer Quips
The L Word           The Poetry Café, WC2
Russia With Love   Ku Bar, WC1 / ITN News
The Outlaws                     London/Norfolk various venues
Kino Teatro              Hastings


Watch the video of my performance for my triptych with Three Flying Piglets here, and my performance for Behind the Mask here.


I’m your brother and sister,

I’m both Mrs and Mister,

I am Gay, Bi and Transsexual,

I am… myself.


I’m your father and mother,

Husband, auntie, friend and lover,

I’m different…and the same,

I am your family.


I’m black, white, pink… every hue,

Christian, Muslim, Buddhist… Jew,

Skinhead, Goth, Punk, New Romantic,

I am me. I am you.


I’m your district nurse, your teacher,

The boy and girl next door,

Someone in the street,

I am your neighbour.


I’m no better than you, or no worse,

No richer, poorer, blessed or cursed,

Just part of the same Gravitational Wave,

As you are.

Save The Black Cap

I was asked to write this poem as a protest of the closure of The Black Cap, a very famous Drag Pub, in Camden.  During a period when many Gay Clubs and Venues were being closed down.

[yt4wp-video video_id=”m6Dh-F1FJOs”]

Performing this poem at Incite@The Phoenix in Oct 2016

This place is more than just a pub,

It’s our history, our style, our own special club.

A place to chat, to drink, to dance.

Encourage friendship, love and romance.


It isn’t fair. It isn’t right,

To banish us into the night.

We need to see a friendly face,

Save The Black Cap. It’s our place.

Here we raised the roof with joy,

As boy became girl and girl became boy.

Drenched the floor with booze and tears

Celebrated who we were, without any fears.


It isn’t fair. It isn’t right,

To banish us into the night.

We need to see a friendly face,

Save The Black Cap, it’s our place.


So what becomes of this place that we

Imprinted with the map of LGBT?

It would be a great shame indeed,

If it’s snatched away by developers greed.


It isn’t fair. It isn’t right,

To banish us into the night.

We need to see a friendly face,

Save The Black Cap, it’s our place.


HERO A Living-interactive poem

polari literary salon

Performing at Polari on the South Bank

I’m Batman, I’m Wonder-woman,
I’m a super-hero called GAY.
I’m Trans, Bi, Intersexual
And I’m a Hero every day.

I’m Marie Stopes, I’m Nelson Mandela,
I’m not afraid of a fight.
I’m standing up for equality and justice,
Cos I know what’s wrong & what’s right.

I am labelled with love and loathing,
Sometimes I feel afraid.
Then I take solace from my fabulous friends
On the gender-bender cavalcade.

Zorro, Emily Pankhurst, Mohammed Ali,
There’s a Hero within us all.
We can make a difference every day.
Be proud. Sing out. Walk tall.


The Consequence of Kisses

Performing “The Consequence of kisses” – An evening Celebrating Who, Why & How We Are. At The Poetry Cafe WC2. 

Kisses can have consequences.
Even those, secret snatched ones
In the back of someone’s car, or cupboard.
That no-one else saw

Kisses do in fact count.
Including those wet, half biting ones
That fill your mouth with saliva…
That you’d like to forget

Or the ones, with someone’s
Girlfriend, wife, or maiden aunt.
Whilst drunk, and alone,
And provoked, at a party.

Kisses can have consequences,
Even if you have to wait 10 years
To reap the reward
Of their success or failure.

Sometimes there’s no respite,
From the jaw aching
Gut and heart wrenching
Memory of them.

No amount of concentration,
Self control, denial or willpower
Diminishes the ramification
Of that particular kiss.

Kisses can bury down, deep
Into your subconscious.
Nestle in the marrow of your bones,
Become more you, than you are.

Kisses can be poetry of breath.
Ambrosia of the Gods.
Better than sex, or the start
Of the best sex you have ever had.

Kisses can have Consequences.