Two Sides

I split in two, I divide,
I side with me, with you, I hide
from the out, from the in,
run from the religion who damn as a sin
the divide, the division of soul,
of confusion where help needs a goal,
but, where rational thought,
does not.

I won’t play the game, play the stereotype,
live up to the hype
of the image that’s played
and no matter what’s said,
I can’t become that and it’s wrong to assume
the pretty-thing room
is the end of the road,
just because,
I follow a different code.

I’m forced to take blame in splendour
for all the idiots of my gender,
while facing the ultimate snub
from those in the opposite club
so, I split in two, I divide,
I hold my head up alone,
with pride.

‘Quarrels with the Gender Binary’ – an upcoming anthology exploring the diverse spectrum of gender discourse and experience: Click Here


New Moon

Deep within the darkest shadows’ dance
lies unseen, the bright new moon,
and so my unanswered questions fall
and leave me in this empty room.

But enduring loss the night sky shines
and blazes with a different wonder,
while my deepest questions are left to probe
past lightning and past thunder.

So standing here, under this new night,
my darkest questions should leave,
but in shadows cast by a different light
they all remain and grieve.

Daily Post Word Prompt: Suspicious

Surfer’s Paradise


Waves still crash, soft on the hammered shore,
while people dance, and sing,
nursing what went before,
though why this long line in the sand?
Living in deep waters, riding high on a crest,
we always sang, and knew our place,
and our place in Paradise is close, but lest
you steal it away,
while grains of sand create a beach,
in our single, softly trodden patch, we sway
in rising storms,
and now, where merging waters kiss
under open skies, and warm sun bakes,
we surf,
and ask you journey with us,
for all our sakes.


With my fingers all a quiver
She sings
And we begin our merry dance.
What wondrous chance
Has sought us two out
To come together in this way.
And soft sounds silence the air
As we sway as one
Entwined, a love so rare
My heart-strings pulled, stretched, fulfilled,
Overcome as we ignore all other types.
There’s just me, with you,
My fingers dancing
On my Irish pipes.

My Voice

Finding my voice, in this choir of calamity,
each chorus a mystery,
singing parts I can not reach
is a task I’ve been set

by choristers and masters alike,
demanding I find it, own it,
look for it in places I find hard to seek,
so fail

and instead settle into
my comfort zone, humming, drone,
soft circle of my personal scale
and feel some nurture there.

The race


Running, running in a race

Faster, faster feels the pace

Cut through the water

Over the blocked path

Breathless push now up the hill

Only a few miles to go

Nearer then against the foe

Positioning at the top men

Getting right beside them

Seeing the last klick coming

Concentrating on the running

Last few hundred now in sight

Powering home to win the fight