See Me #YesEquality #straightupforequality #MarRef

In hope that May 22nd brings us a new outlook.



SEE ME

See me, says Mary
Born and bred in a rural town
daughter of fields and grey stone walls
See me, for I am a vote
I am a choice, I am a new day dawning

See me, says John
Under the glow of a street lamp
Son of the city, the pavement and street
See me, for I am a vote
I am the future, I am the morning reborn

See me, says Dolores
I may be old, but I can remember
I have seen changes you can't imagine
I am the past, but before I go
the future is mine to secure for the young

See me, See me, for we have decided
never again to close our eyes
never pretend that our friends or our neighbours
should live as we do, should live in the dark
should live without love, invisible hearts

SEE ME. For I am an ally
and I will not let you silence them again
those you ignore, I will acknowledge
those you silence, I will shout out their names
you should see me coming, for I am a vote.

1.

This Poem Has No Planning Permission

This poem is constructed
unstructured
and without
planning permission.


It advocates a YES vote.
I asked no permission.
The artist can advocate what he wants
and so can I


And I add, without permission
an extension
The bully is not oppressed
when we make him stop bullying
Giving others equal rights
does not oppress you


This poem has no planning permission
This poem is a YES vote

1.

The Games are Over

As Russia prepares to host the Olympic Games, many observers are aware of the hideous treatment of the LGBT community there - including recent laws outlawing homosexuality, talking about or discussing homosexuality, imprisonment of LGBT people, outlawing any LGBT activism - laws reminiscent of Hitler's attacks on the Jewish Community on the eve of the notorious Berlin Olympics. The Olympic committee and the various countries participating in the Olympics seem content to ignore these blatant human rights violations even as most Western countries move forward into an era of equality.


The Games are Over


I sat on Mount Olympus
under a weary sun
and waited til He came
His glory undiminished, the Beautiful One
I greeted him and we talked
of old times and days
of all the strange and wondrous things
since we last parted ways.

And then He asked me sadly
Is it true? Will they
sully the games anew, and hold them ransom
for some coins -
is this the truth?
The games I gloried in, in my youth,
the honour, the pride, like prayers and incense
pain and defeat, victory and joy, offered on my Altar?
Are these things naught?


I told him, yes.
For convenience, cash and an easy life
they'll hold the games where they like.
they will ignore the cries of the oppressed
they'll see them beaten in the streets
and close their eyes, it's for the best -
they'll stride out under a thousand flags
but none will be Rainbows.

I told Him this
and He, manly, wept
He held my hand and talked
of His past loves, of golden limbs
and kisses sweet
They have outlawed me, He cried
I am the one they beat.
I am the one imprisoned
I am the one despised -
Anger hardened His lovely face -
The games they hold offend this sacred place
I curse them and their modern play
Olympus turns its back today.

1.