Tag Archives: lgbt poetry and experience


You warned me about your temper

I thought you were making a joke

I remembered your words months later

When my bones and heart you broke


Mostly you were quiet and gentle

You described yourself as kind

Nice, as nice, as nice can be

Until, you changed your mind


Then you became a monster

Cruel and without remorse

It wasn’t your fault, it was your temper

You’d warned me about it, of course


I don’t know why I took you back

When you begged and cried and pleaded

Maybe I felt sorry cos your life was so sad

Maybe, I wanted to be needed?


So then I had to pay the price

Of loving Jekyll and Hyde

It was a painful, brutal, mercifully short

Roller-coaster ride


I see you’re online dating,

Advertising for somebody new

You say you’re solvent, single and hot

The problem is, you’re still you.

Coming Out Kiss

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It was that kiss that did it.

Blew away my misconceptions about lads,

About fancying them that is…

About wanting to be their ‘girlfriend’.


Tracey was trouble with a capital T.

Tall, tempestuous, a truant and a tease.

She cut a swathe through all the boys,

Discarded them like broken toys.


I was twelve, she was sixteen…

And a walking, talking living dream.

I was bored with secondary school,

I preferred dancing and playing the fool.


On that day she noticed me,

Said she’d teach me how to be

A femme fatale like she was.

The first lesson was kissing…


Do you remember the Wilderness Years?

The years between 18 and 25.

The years of hope and longing,

When everything was new.


Do you remember the worry?

Of being excluded, of not fitting in?

Of not being, in some way

A bona – fida member of LQBT Gay.


Do you remember feeling overwhelmed?

Being tossed about in life’s jet stream,

Bewildered by, what the fuck,

Or who, was going on?


Do you remember those lost years?

The sex, the drink, the drugs, the clubs

So many new faces, new places

Some good, some bad, some ugly.


Those who can remember it,

Have passed through it.

Those who can remember it,

Have survived it. Some don’t.


18 to 25 .The highest statistic

Of disenchantment and depression

Of death by suicide or misadventure

Within our community.


It doesn’t have to be that way

Those can be happy care-free years

Celebrating all that is great, good & gay.

Supported by love and wisdom.


Let us light a beacon in our hearts,

To guide those young men and women

The sons & daughters, the next generation,

Who now navigate, The Wilderness years.