Pink or Blue? – Katie Bagg

That was the first time you’d been put in a box, but it wouldn’t be the last

Many thanks to Katie Bagg for a very thoughtful and topical entry to Voices. Katie is very passionate about poetry and ‘Pink or Blue?’ focuses on the struggles of a transgender man.

Pink or Blue?

“Pink or blue?” Your parents asked

“Pink” he replied

That was the first time you’d been put in a box, but it wouldn’t be the last

A pink home, with pink walls and pink floors,

Pink clothes and pink shoes, a pink bed you did not choose,

pink food and pink drink, a pink bath and pink sink

A pink life, a pink world, a pink baby – maybe?

A pink school, with pink friends and pink teachers,

Pink uniform and pink hair, a pink chair – that didn’t seem fair,

Pink toilets and pink toys, a pink playground full of pink noise

A pink life, a pink world, a pink child – maybe?

A pink textbook, with pink words and pink pictures,

Blue brain and blue imagination, a blue head full of frustration

Green friends and green hair, a pink world that started to stare

A pink life, a pink world, a blue teenager – maybe?

Pink words from a pink parent leave pink scars on a blue heart

A blue wish from a blue body goes unnoticed in this pink world

Forced time and time again into pink boxes:

College applications – pink

Drivers license – pink

Social media accounts – pink

Email – pink

But, blue boxes were just waiting to be filled,

And a blue life was just waiting to begin.

A blue world – ready for you to embrace it.

Pink or blue?

Blue.

Katie Bagg, 16

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation. Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Becoming – Amanda Steel

And now I’m changing From the little girl you knew

Becoming

Amanda Steel is the author of the poetry collection “Pieces of Me” and several novels. She is also the editor of Printed Words and co-host of the podcast “Reading in Bed”. Her website is www.amandasteelwriter.com We really appreciate Amanda’s support.

Becoming

I was still talking

Even though I had paused

And had more I wanted to say

I only blinked and missed

What you wanted to say

Now you’re missing it all

I haven’t turned out yet

I’ve still got a way to go

I was still talking

There was more to say

Even though I had paused

And now you won’t get to see

But I hope that you know

I hope you hear now

So that when we meet again

I won’t be a stranger to you

I was still talking

And now I’m changing

From the little girl you knew

I don’t know what I’ll become

But I’ve plenty more to share

And I can’t be who I was

I’m still turning out

Into whatever I’ll come

Amanda Steel

The Grief in my Mind – Macee Grace Atkins

Like a broken mother, I mourned for someone

Macee Grace Atkins has had a love of reading, writing short stories and poetry from an early age. A tragic accident which resulted in the loss of a fellow student at Macee’s school inspired ‘The Grief in my Mind’. We really appreciate Macee taking the time to share her talents, and address a very difficult so topic eloquently through the medium of poetic verse.

I didn’t quite know you and you didn’t quite know me,

but somehow. The silence of the crowds,

and the parting of the clouds, made me wish you peace.

For it wasn’t meant to be.

Like a broken mother,

I mourned for someone I had not loved but somehow lost.

Trickling droplets of grief

cleansed me of the purity of happiness. Until

a single angelic sign settled on my right shoulder.

Reminding me of hope,

that of which I have for you, Aamer.

Macee Grace Atkins, 15

Stephanie Hewitt – Hope

give things time..we’ll heal…we’ll smile..

Many thanks to Stephanie Hewitt for her entry to Voices. Stephanie’s mum, who is sadly unwell at present, provided the inspiration to the poem – and she loves her very much. The poem reminds us of how quickly life can change for better or for worse. We appreciate Stephanie’s kind decision to share.

Hope

Our lives are full of wonder..of how each day will be..

we hope it’s full of love..good health..but we have to wait and see..

Our lives can take a tumble..when we’re sure it’s turned out right..

It can turn our lives upside down..and darkness hides the light..

But don’t despair..be sad..or weep..It’s just a passing day..

give things time..we’ll heal…we’ll smile..Everything will be Ok..

Stephanie Hewitt, Great Ayton, North Yorkshire

We Are Blind – Caoilinn Hughes

It’s easy to ignore problems

Thank you Caoilinn Hughes for her potent and relevant offering to Voices. We appreciate her decision to share her work for a very good cause.

We Are Blind

We are blind to what we don’t want to see

And deaf to what we don’t want to hear

We accept the inequality in our world

And ignore all the hatred and fear

Global warming, plastic pollution

Oceans filled with waste

Starvation, thirst and poverty

Yet we remain stone faced

It’s easy to ignore problems

When helping is too hard

But if we open our eyes and ears to the world

At least that would be a start

Caoillin Hughes, 17

Come Home to the Hearth – Judith Bristow

Bathe in fire’s glow

We really appreciate Judith Bristow’s fantastic submission to Voices. Judith is an amateur musician and Early Years Practitioner living in Helston, Cornwall. She loves writing poetry ‘inspired by the sea, the art and gift of storytelling, and human compassion.’ Thank you Judith.

Come Home to the Hearth

Come home to the hearth

Where your ancestors wait

To embrace you in

bearskin, wool, cotton and lace

The twilight seeks in

The day is all won

By you, or some other

No matter – it’s done

Sit down by the warmth

Bathe in fire’s glow

Tell your stories – or not;

No matter, they know

Rest your head on old shoulders

Feel your hearts beat in time

Trust in the wisdom

Of your constant guides

Open your hands

Let the love come back in

You are safe and beloved

Next the hearth with your kin

Judith Bristow

Anxiety – Robert Phillips

The battle may be long

Thank you to Robert Phillips for his poignant offering to Voices. Embarking on a course of Creative Writing has been a life-changing experience for Robert and we really appreciate his decision to share ‘Anxiety’ with us. A former lorry driver, Robert states that writing ‘has totally changed my life for the better and has opened up many new challenges and opportunities to me.’

Anxiety

Anxiety is not needed
It’s something you choose to allow
Pressure from outside you
Like a grenade waiting to blow

You build it up
Let it smoulder
Then some one else
Lobs another one
Over your shoulder
It waits for you to reach
Your lowest point
And primes your brain
With constant doubt

It’s not liberating or expansive
Binding you in mental chains
It’s insular and destructive
Only anxiety chooses when
The chains can be lifted

Try to talk to someone
Family or stranger
Try hard to converse
You need help to lift this
Damned anxiety curse
Surely sharing can’t make
Your life or feelings any worse

Anxiety makes you feel
Weak and very brittle
Knowing your supported
Builds your armour
Just a little

The battle may be long
But fight with all your might
It’s you that must crusade
To find your shining light
Knowing you lead the charge
Not a spectator in the middle
Make it dance to your tune
Because many a good tune
Is played on an old fiddle

You control it
Don’t let it control you

Robert Phillips, 56

The Tale of a Gentlewoman – Geraldine Tunstall

Her heart was sore

A special thanks to Geraldine Tunstall for her powerful submission to Voices and the poetry competition. Have you found your soul mate? The mysterious nature of love and the human need for companionship and appreciation is addressed masterfully in ‘Tale of a Gentlewoman’. We really appreciate Geraldine sharing this special poem with us.

The Tale of a Gentlewoman

All she ever wanted

was to give her heart to a deserving suitor

Her prized possession

had a little wear and tear

but was still fully functioning

Most wanted one with all the bells and whistles

but she was waiting for a man

that wanted an old antique with some charm

Her heart was sore

she didn’t know how to feel anymore

Lump in her throat, it was hard to breathe

wishing everyone would just leave

so much chatter in her head

trying not to see red

She heard the cries

and whispers in the wind

Not sure of which way she was going

she took a deep breath

and told herself it didn’t matter

as long as she didn’t stop

They met in a dark place

the shadows made it hard to see

So many times they stumbled

but patience and communication were key

She intently listened

held her hand out for him to find

Knew she should share her thoughts

as he couldn’t read her mind

Her face trembled

as the tears brimmed to the top

She’d been holding it together so long

she was ready to pop

She put on a brave face

as he pulled her close

Baby, what’s wrong?

tears streamed as if she’d just seen a ghost

Geraldine Tunstall

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Dancing Queen – Elizabeth Train-Brown

the world is a stage and the speakers are on

It is very special to celebrate the life someone special through the medium of poetry, and Elizabeth Train-Brown remembers her Nana, who ‘spent her century-long life dancing and teaching others’, in a magical way. We are very proud to present ‘Dancing Queen’ in the blog. Having had experience working with cancer charities, she was very keen to support this project. Elizabeth followed her parents into a life of performance, becoming the ‘fire breathing Phoenix on stage’ and has also pursued a career in writing. Find out more about Elizabeth at: Dancing on the Knife Point. Thanks again Elizabeth for sharing your exceptional poetry.

Dancing Queen

(for Violet)

Her legs are stiff with age; it’s been so long since she danced,

Twirled and chartered the floor, chanced

Each night with a new man on her arm

Now, she’s stuck in a chair, blanket warm

Over her knees and the sky went dark hours ago.

She’s been dreaming with her eyes open, you know,

Gazing at the wall with a smile on her face as music drifts

Through the air and partners fly around her like swifts

In the sky. There’s a band in the corner, playing louder and louder:

Sax and bass and drums and voices shower

The dancefloor in streams of light, bathe the room in

Tangible ribbons of sheet music. Her lips part to sing

And somewhere, in another life, her voice echoes

Through the room and not a soul dare go

When their ears catch those fluttering notes.

Here, the air circles with lazy dust motes

But there, the world is a stage and the speakers are on:

I’m here! She cries into the mic. Did you think I was gone?

Their whoops and cheers carry her like stretchers

Through the crowd, each brush of skin electric with embers

Of song and dance and excitement in her veins again.

She’s dancing the foxtrot through torrents of champagne,

The waltz, the jive, the rumba, the salsa,

The tango, the jitterbug, the cha cha cha—

Her legs are alive after an age of rest,

Awake and electrified and the best

You will ever see from all around. She’s whirling and spinning

Across the dancefloor as if she never stopped; she’s finally winning.

They’ll cry, she knows, in that other life

Damp on their cheeks, hearts of strife.

But one or two will smile, spare a grateful thought

That up there above, heaven has a dance floor.

Elizabeth Train-Brown

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

An Angry Old Lady – Rob Lowe

I battle every day

Rob Lowe is a keen and dedicated poet who has been crafting lyrics and prose for many years. We really appreciate his moving contribution which addresses the challenging issue of old age. Many of Rob’s poems have a ‘political thrust’ and have also been published. We thank him very much for ‘An Angry Old Lady’ and we are sure it will leave a lasting impression on you.

AN ANGRY OLD LADY

Two years in this Home

Where I do not want to be;

I had my own home once

But it got too much for me –

Though I was happy there.

–

Here, I am angry and sad:

I change my moods.

They say this is not good;

My son feels I am rude,

And thinks I am confused.

The things I say, though,

I do not always mean;

Yet say them anyway,

To keep them guessing.

–

It is only Polly:

That is what they say.

And I get to know

Items they would rather

Not put on show;

I am good at eavesdropping.

I battle every day,

While the others watch TV –

Get ready my retorts.

God knows what they enter

In their shift reports.

–

“How old are you?” they ask.

I take them to task

When they say: “You don’t look it.”

How do they decide

What my age is meant to look?

“Where are you going, Polly?”

Is another frequent question

When I head towards the door.

I wouldn’t mind so much

If “What are you going for?”

Was what they asked.

But they lack the sense for that.

–

The staff do their best, I know.

But they think me silly. And I am not!

“It is my sort of lunatic

Ensures they get their pay.”

Is what I tell my son. I wish he would stay.

Rob Lowe, Colwyn Bay

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation.

Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.