RIGHTS RESERVED Tonight I will become is published by Cartwheel Arts. All rights are reserved and remain with the authors. Reproduction in whole or part without written permission is strictly prohibited.
Tonight I will become new writing from LGBT+ writers with Cartwheel Arts
by
Evan Thomas Coombe, P A Livsey, Lily Luty, Oliver Waite, and Jude
You are here: clues for a poetic journey The nine day queen Boomerang love Left ventricle, right ventricle Follow the curve of the river Six in. Eight out. Aftershave in the seventh circle of hell Frozen canal water Listen: John Cage’s 4’33 Sugar acid twist B.E.A.U.T.Y. A curly Tudor beard Opera bellow One-Two-Three
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Beauty is Medics rushing round to save a life Morning dew on a winter’s day Messy hair and no make up Accessibility Your first spring flower The nine day queen William Health care You
EVAN THOMAS COOMBE AND OLIVER WAITE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Not Your Joke My neck snaps back, Sudden. Quick. Simultaneously: my left calf tenses. My eyes blink. My eyebrows raise. My shoulder raises. Fingers jumping about. My neck suddenly flicks to the side and I feel a click and pain. My jaw clenches. Now my neck is constantly nodding. Stomach clenches, pain shoots through my body. Legs kick out. Feet, And toes start to jump about. Now my right arm won't stay still. Oh shit, I punched my head! Thrice! My finger flips up at an unaware passerby. The sniffing won't stop. I've not got a cold. And, no blowing my nose doesn't help! Random words come out. Some end up forming sentences.
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
I say the strangest of things. 'You've got a chicken on your head' 'Fuck off' 'I love boomerangs' The time all this happens in? I'd say 5-10 seconds. On repeat constantly 24/7, only the content ĮĮĮchanges. I'm exhausted. My muscles ache. And I'm in pain. Tourette's My reality Not your joke.
OLIVER WAITE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Song In Parts I give myself over and Over again: Take my heart, My ribs, my lungs Pull me apart to Fix your problems; Patch your wounds Over with my skin To heal yourself Fresh again They are always taking, They tried to take My voice, my limbs, My bones Stripped me naked, Lonely skeleton in rags, Try to take my honey; Dig it out with Clawing hands
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
They took from me so long, That I had no way to believe you When I passed over my heart In trembling hands, And you pressed it back In my chest, closed in Tight, like a well-loved book, Saying you preferred me Whole LILY LUTY
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
This I Know I know 19/5/1536 is the date of Anne Boleyn’s execution; I know he loves them. I know he loves me: my personality, my hair, the best bits of me. I know I am loved. I know about disability. I know about sexuality, that it’s like a river. I know about trans rights; You have a choice to be who you are now, who you were, and who you may be. This I know.
EVAN THOMAS COOMBE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Wanderer Slow down my impish wandering soul, my itching feet Control my desperation to be once more on the road Slow me down Six in. Eight out. Roll my body Out of this addiction Eight in. Twelve out. Place my shaking frame once more upon the shelf and say 'Stay; There is no need To wander any more.'
LILY LUTY
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
My own constant hell Eyes squeezed tight shut. Hands clamped over my ears. Hiding in a corner far from them all. Taking short, shallow breaths. I rock and rock but it does not help. Where am I, you ask. 'Sensory hell' I reply. Curtains shut. Lights off. Sunglasses on. Eyes clenched shut. Yet still too bright. A searing pain through my head. Eyes burning like volcanic lava. 'I can't eat that,' I tell you. 'Why on earth not?' I debate in my head to tell the truth or lie. I am brave. ‘The texture makes my heart pound my mouth burn and I want to scratch my tongue out' 'Don't be ridiculous, it is soft.' I put it in my mouth and immediately it's sensory hell. My ears are pounding. I want to scratch them off. I am being beaten repeatedly on my ear drum.
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Yet you don't see that. I yelp and cover my ears. Ears which already have ear plugs in. Yet the beating continues, I'll never be free. Smoke A bath bomb Aftershave Cleaning products. I smelt one. I smelt them all at once, and now my head pounds and nausea rises within. You reject that this sensory hell exists, yet question why I'm unwell. You question my sunglasses indoors, my noise cancelling ear plugs, my need for breaks. Yet never stop to think that I'm in bloody agony ĮĮĮconstantly ĮĮĮfrom the world. Welcome to my sensory hell.
OLIVER WAITE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
SOLITUDE i Trade I have to tell you darling, your timing is crap just when I thought I loved you, on your head's a ĮĮĮtap. Water on the brain I mean, like a swimming pool you know you’re not so hot no more, you're no ĮĮĮlonger cool. What brought me to this conclusion was the call ĮĮĮthat you had made, playing games with me girl, solitude I trade. When you phoned the other day, asked would it ĮĮĮbe okay, if we met in Via Fossa for a drink. I thought oh! what the fuck, although the snow ĮĮĮwas getting thick, we'd meet for lunch and glasses we would chink. A moment or so later, you rang, to confirm, I suggested a change of venue. Metz was more exclusive, the atmosphere ĮĮĮseductive and the veggie more varied on the menu. Your reply was a 'gob-smacker,' 'who do you ĮĮĮfancy there'? Girl you've only known me several months at ĮĮĮleast.
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
You forget you flirted there, whilst I visited the loo ĮĮĮand returned to catch you in the act. YOU BEAST. On reflection, it's now over - I got fed-up with your ĮĮĮlies and your moaning cos your hubby wouldn't leave. Not to mention the other girlfriend, did she really ĮĮĮexist? Or was she a part of the tangled web you weave?
P A LIVSEY
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
It Only Took A Second Wind blowing leaves in a tree a sniff a tic a tock a quick intake of breath crotchet in a piece of music in a time of crotchet equals sixty a swallow of tea Is that a message on my phone? Swearing at someone inhaling a digestive forgot where I left my key my just-below-average resting heart rate the slowed response time of a drink driver the first moment of silence in John Cage’s 4’33 One
EVAN, JUDE AND OLIVER
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
No Trace Element The house is wiped clean – none of her DNA remains. We'd collided in the gay village. Love or lust changes everything – Months later I met the Watson family – they separated us by bedrooms. I was bored in isolation – we were sugar and ĮĮĮacid – she never used my name or said I love you – I wanted acknowledgement as a couple – So! What we gonna do – in public hold hands and french kiss straddle legs as we sit in parks and bars Could I cope with another Crick in the neck? I grew bored with the games. The butch and fem ĮĮĮroles – I think I’ll give our collection of strap-ons to the Women’s Institute – Į maybe not! P A LIVSEY
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Thigh Chafe Worthless, lazy, fat That’s what they say to me. The word itself sound ugly and negative – Just how you think of me. FAT. No room in the media for me. Baggy clothes covering, no flesh to be seen. No models to represent me No curves on the catwalk No thigh gap: Thigh chafe But no more. If I want to lose weight, great – but for me. Not for you. Not to look like people in the magazines do. Your beauty standards Your numbers Your scales don’t define me.
Fat is not a bad word. EVAN THOMAS COOMBE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
I know You told me to wear make up like popular music wear dresses and skirts drink alcohol not talk about history keep still keep quiet talk less talk more make eye contact not meltdown not tic smile more be happy not be anxious be sociable not stim not talk about classical music act neurotypical So I tried it all I tried so damn hard You see I didn't want to be the one who was tormented and alone so I tried it all to ďŹ t in how you wanted me to. I wanted to be liked I wanted a few friends
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
But the friends I made were fake as they knew a ĮĮĮfake me. They also didn't care. I know I'm different and that's ok I know I'm liked as me. The friendships I have now are genuine as I'm no longer faking who I am. I know I'm different and that's ok I'm a non-binary trans man and that's ok I'm demisexual and homoromantic and that's ok I have mental illnesses and that's ok I have Tourette's and that's ok I'm autistic and that's ok I'm a wheelchair user and that's ok I know my special interest is the Tudor period and ĮĮĮthat's ok I love classical music and that's ok I stim and that's ok I have sensory overloads and that's ok I have meltdowns and that's ok I know I love history and that's ok I don't want to drink alcohol and that's ok I love my beard and that's ok. I know my limits and that's ok I know I can't cope with many things and that's ok.
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Every time you told me to fit in to avoid being the bullied, abused person with no ĮĮĮfriends I believed you but any friends I had weren't true friends who ĮĮĮcared. I know now that I can be myself completely myself and people like me. I know that adults lie to young people who aren't ĮĮĮ'the norm' Because you all lied to me. I know I'm different and that's ok I now know I don't need to fit in to have friends I also know I'm not less just because I'm different.
OLIVER WAITE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Super Tonight I will become super All here bear witness to my transformation No longer wilting flower I will be blooming red carnations Pale skin scraped off Like icing off the cake I should not eat Carefully tearing sheet after sheet of Wafer thin skin I will step out of my body And walk away without a second glance I have always been so much more than that Or pause and halt your steps apart For is it not the grit That makes the pearl The fire that makes the coal? I will rebuild Become a solid mass of meat And interlocking muscle Lean and tall Polished red flesh like a boiled sweet Blue veined tattoos Shining, I will be amethyst And wings so that I may soar Not the shattered bones, Slumped shoulders that were there before Not the weakened limbs Soft skin that was there before I am diamond
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Beautiful and cruel Cutting bone like butter No more shame and Shattered memories I will be cold No I will keep my heart Sensitive child fleeting beats Delicate as a pressed flower And oh so much feeling It fills me up and pours over Overflowing until I drown Well - I shall just build better lungs So that my voice may sharpen its scream An opera bellow to shatter Glass ceilings I will keep my voice too After all, it took so long to find it I will cherish it Use it to sing more Laugh more Use more Raise it in crowds and on stage And let it soothe The trembling things within me I think they will always be carried Like infants round my neck They cling and choke But I shall build a stronger throat And I shall keep my eyes too
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Despite what they have seen I shall be a phoenix Rising from the fires of my past With my eyes filled with flame Blue and deep as pools Shedding tears like waves Behold me Beast primordial Woman immortal Watch me as I become Super
LILY LUTY
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Tomorrow You’ll be sorry you worried at all tomorrow. We will sort out the chair, we will do this together, one at a time. Accessibility fails, we will challenge: first the steps second the tweet third the change. Tomorrow you’ll be sorry you worried at all. EVAN THOMAS COOMBE
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
David Constantine, one of Salford’s great poets, said, ‘If you want to know what the truth is now, you go to fiction and you go to poetry because that’s where the truth has always been resident, because no writer of fiction, no writer of poetry is in it for anything fundamentally except the making of beauty and the making of truth.’ The writing collected here was created in the months leading up to and including LGBT History Month in February 2017 – and the truth and the beauty of it is, of course, that we exist beyond February, beyond specific dates and anniversaries, beyond street names and postcodes, accents and histories. Our communities are broad and diverse, like the writing you find here. -MICHELLE GREEN, EDITOR AND WORKSHOP LEADER
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
TONIGHT I WILL BECOME
Tonight I will become is published by the Tell Us Another One creative writing project run by Cartwheel Arts in the North West of England. The project operates in the Greater Manchester Boroughs of Rochdale, Bury and Oldham and is funded by Big Lottery Fund and supported by each borough respectively. Tell Us Another One Cartwheel Arts 110 Manchester Street Heywood OL10 1DW Telephone 01706 361300 www.cartwheelarts.org.uk www.tellusanotherone.org Read this chapbook online at: issuu.com/tellusanotherone Editor: Michelle Green www.michellegreen.co.uk
Design and Illustration: Alex J. Gardner www.alexjgardner.co.uk
Tonight I will become is a collection of new writing from members of the Cartwheel Arts’ LGBT+ writing group in Rochdale borough and North Manchester. Far from being single-issue creations (as none of us live single-issue lives), the poems collected here span experience and history, science and the esoteric, meditative breathing and experimental music and twin beds and Tudors and tweets. These are poems for anyone who ever risked their heart, and, in the face of disapproval, dared to love their difference. To access this book online using text to speech, please visit: issuu.com/tellusanotherone