Apart

Apart

It is a sad day
When the death knell tolls
When two hearts must part
Ripped out of alabaster ribs
With a gut wrench fist
For the sake of muffled lips
And clackety tongued convention

It is a sad day
When I say goodbye
to a love who never was in bloom
I never picked your rose
Just gazed upon a fearful bud
whose petals curled and sighed
in fearful rumination

It is a sad day
When voices fail to
sing our songs of truth
Chrysalis consumes the butterfly
Wings of trepidation
soaring in a universe of
haves and have nots

We have not

©2020 Sarah Drury

Skipped

I skip along these scummy streets
Scuff the needles with my Tough girl Doc Martens
Pass the burnt-out Vauxhall Zafira
I’ve lived here a year, I think I’m starting
To blend in with the natives
I’ve perfected the ‘don’t fuck with me’ stare
I walk past the gangs of teens
and put on the act that I don’t care
(and wear my nonchalant face)

I’m used to the tab ends and smidgens of weed
I find in the communal lobby when I’m on my way out
Coke snorting tubes littering the stairwell
Kids smoking joints when the police aren’t about
My son sees the signs and knows all the vocab
I’m trying to tell him that drugs can be lethal
He wanted to know where the dealers live
I tell him that these people are dodgy, be careful
We don’t want our heads kicking in!

I walk the streets taking in the deprivation
when at my feet I find a huge bag of weed
I wonder if a drug runner has dropped it by accident
I consider its value, my bank balance it could feed
I have visions of piles of black-market cash
And takeaways unlimited, new clothes and hairdos
But if the druggies found out I’d purloined their stash
I think of my body splashed over the news
And I get paranoid that some dodgy geezer
is watching me, waiting to kick my head in
So I leave the package where I left it
And let someone else partake in their sin

And I walk along the scummy street
Til I see my safe little council flat
and I think about the stash of dope
and wonder what kind of stupid twat
would drop it
Psychedelic lost property!

©2020 Sarah Drury

Pride

PRIDE

When I was a child
girls stole sugar kisses on boys’ muddy lips
Champagne toasts to wedded men and women
My friends all had mothers and fathers
even if they didn’t know them
My storybooks were full of handsome princes
kissing apple-lipped maidens
Pages after pages were bullshit laden
And the TV was full of girls with boys
and happy-ever-after heterosexuality
And that was the myth of sexuality
Back in the day

We hurled around ‘insults’ that our mates were lesbos
And the lads were gay
But we didn’t realise we were buying into
a system of bitter prejudice and discrimination
Witch hunts, gay shaming and condemnation
and I never thought that one day
I would be ‘them’

We never saw two female lips entwined in a loving kiss
or two males in a passionate embrace
Now it is still a spectacle
consigned to its own sordid category
a ‘perverted disgrace’
The older generation still hushly whisper
‘ooo he’s gay you know’ and oppose the notion
of gay adoption and media exposure
God forbid the media give their viewing a promotion
They still feel queasy to the stomach
when they see that love is not just
boy meets girl

I am glad we now live in a generation where
love is becoming less monochrome
Where the lgbt community can live a life less secluded and alone
And rainbows fill a sky of potential
for love and acceptance to prosper
Gay is becoming more mainstream
And we don’t cower ashamedly in molehills anymore

So why do I live life in a masquerade ball?
Partially disguised
Why so long to free myself from my trap of conventionality?
For the sake of convention and congeniality
I was caught up for years in the boy-girl story
Of the prince and princess happy ever after
Now I am awake and still feel the stigma
The sting of years of expectation
Like a queen in a PRIDE parade
Saying fuck you to the hetero charade
and wearing my mask
when I truly want to be
exposed and naked

©2020 Sarah Drury

The Diet

The diet

Lettuce
Lettuce and tomato
Lettuce and tomato and cucumber
OOO, will I go all exotic and have a bit of couscous?
Do I want salad cream with that?
Mmmmm cream
Screw the salad bit
BUT I am beginning to look like
a giant marshmallow on steroids
With my belly that touches my knees
and my butt that says “OH PURLEEEEASE!”
SO

Lettuce
Lettuce and tomato
Lettuce and tomato and cucumber
OOO, shall I splash out and have some dressing with that?
Dressing
Depressing
Squeezing myself into death-wish dresses
Like a Zeppelin in a condom
Like a blamanche in clingfilm
Suffocating asthmatics
to a plus sized death
SO

Lettuce
Lettuce and tomato
Lettuce and tomato and cucumber
OOO, Will I live dangerously and have a bit of beetroot?
OOO, beetroot
The colour of my cheeks when I
get on the scales
Or the gang of teenage girls
snigger in their size 10 knock off Nike trackies
And I want to scream
“I was a skinny tart too, once!”
Or the tsunami when I dive into the pool
and cause a few fatalities
SO

Lettuce
Lettuce and tomato
Lettuce and tomato and cucumber
OOO that cake looks tempting
the chocolate is moist
and so am I
God, I’m bloody starving!
Just one bite…
Just another slice…
Oh, I’ve stuffed the whole cake!

Lettuce
Lettuce and tomato
Lettuce and tomato and cucumber
And KFC
And McDonald’s
And Pizza Hut
And Mandarin Palace
And Bombay delights
And

Big knickers
Big tits
Big me
Again

©2020 Sarah Drury

Hard Boys

The other night, a big gang of lads were hanging about outside my flats, causing absolute mayhem. Obviously off their heads on drugs and booze, they were shouting and just being crazy. I must admit I was scared, and it triggered a bad anxiety and OCD attack. I ended up going to bed and trying to drown out the noise! Here’s a poem I wrote…

Big boys
Hard boys
Loud boys
Lost boys
Riding the manic high
of your coke
of your dope
of your speed
of your blow
of your weed
I don’t care what you call it
but it makes monsters of your mind
Birthing obnoxious rowdy rebellion
Pissing off the neighbourhood
Like we don’t need sleep
and we haven’t got kids
and we don’t have anxiety disorders

And oh, I was living on my last nerve
Heart all exposed and wrapped in disquietude
Butterflies feasting on my gastrological angst
Head establishing a terrorist situation
Mind lost in OCD
And OCD is telling me
They’re going to get me
They’re going to find me
They’re going to rape me
This won’t end well

Big boys
Hard boys
Loud boys
Lost boys
Probably just having your laughs
And being rebellious teens
And chasing escapism from
Your lives of mundanity and tedium
Bit of coke
Bit of dope
Bit of speed
Bit of blow
Bit of weed
Sorted

Why my anxiety consigns me to Hell
I don’t understand
Threatened by a good time boy bunch
Your laughs slicing my psyche
like feel good knives
with blades sharpened in acid
Maybe I lost my inner child
Maybe she got lost in a maelstrom
of scared and fearful and afraid
The mind knows how
to keep me a prisoner
The mind knows
I lost my childhood

©2020 Sarah Drury