Tag Archive | Boys

The Wrong Diagnosis 


In my latest poem I recall a recent incident as I take a look at arrogance, and assumptions based on stereotypical attitudes. The event in question happened a few weeks ago as I made my way to Katie’s Bar when a stranger attempted to bark orders at me and in typical Ruth Davidson fashion ordered me to sit down. Naturally I refused to entertain this attention seeker and made my way to my destination where I enjoyed a very pleasant evening in good company. However I decided to write this poem to illustrate that there are just as many ill mannered attention seekers in the LGBT community as there are anywhere else. I have given it the title The Wrong Diagnosis. I hope you enjoy the read. 

The Wrong Diagnosis 

On a quiet autumn evening

I am singing contentedly to myself 

as I walk to my pub of choice 

as it comes in to view 

a stranger shrieks at the top of his voice 

barks orders telling me to sit down 

says he’s seen me around 

really I reply

 walking on I ignore him 

he seems aggitated

 that I pay no attention to his demands 

but what he fails to understand 

is that while his scouse accent may be fine 

his Ruth Davidson style charm is something I can do without 

my world has borders 

and he’s just made the mistake of crossing them 

without my permission 

the line of respectability

has been violated

and history will show he was on the wrong side of it 

you don’t cross boundaries without permission

that doesn’t work it never has and never will

trust me I am not the kind of girl

who likes her world invaded by unwanted intruders

I don’t like the assumption  it implies 

you know boys will be boys 

and claim women as their prize 

this is male privilege of a very British kind 

which states if you ignore me

 I will diagnose you and give you a label

to which I think ‘it will be nothing to one I give you 

and trust me it will take you on a journey 

for which you wish you had never volunteered’  

but the moment he sneered at me 

I smiled knowing I held every ace in the pack 

and he could do union jack to stop me 

I played a tactical game 

because I checked his privilege 

and called him out for his arrogance 

I’d met his type before 

he had plenty to say for himself 

but nothing worth my time 

his crime was barking orders 

believing dog whistles work at his command 

and failing to understand 

a poet will always defeat 

a conservative charm school graduate 

especially one who gave her

the wrong diagnosis 

© Gayle Smith 2017 


Secret Cinderella

With Glasgow Pride coming up next weekend it’s no surprise that this month’s edition of Extra Second is focusing on sexuality. As I’ve been billed to perform I thought I had better get cracking and write some poems on the topic. In this one I travel back in time to the summer of 1974 and recall the day I  started secondary school and the first real stirrings with regards to boys and being aware of being a socially awkward trans teen before I knew the term for it. I’ve given it the title Secret Cinderella, I hope you enjoy the read .

Secret Cinderella

It was the day that Nixon resigned 

and the Bay City Rollers made number one on Radio Clyde 

when I started high school

I tried so hard to fit in and be cool 

it didn’t work 

I wanted skirts not the trousers that were my fate

I hated being made to be a boy 

I couldn’t play the part 

my heart wasn’t in it 

there were limits to my acting skils 

I tried to play football but would sooner hang out with girls 

talk about what really mattered 

make up, boys, and teenage dreams 

the centrefold in that week’s Jackie magazine 

but when you lived in the schemes 

these stirrings had to be calmed if not completely quelled

Catholic or Protestant both guilt trips 

had the same destination 

a one way ticket on the road to hell 

and a child of a mixed marriage would be condemned to it twice 

secretly I would wear tights and dresses 

when nobody else was watching 

well Scotland was a different place back then

where men were men and no boys were ever allowed to cry 

even if denying the truth would have them climbing bedroom walls 

the secret Cinderella’s who never even made it 

to the school disco let alone the ball 

and wouldn’t kiss Prince Charming till their 40’s 

© Gayle Smith 2017

The Way I Look Tonight 

Hey Readers This poem is dedicated a brilliant young blogger who blogs under the title Half Girl Half Tea Cup. In her latest post she writes very candidly on sexual harassment and the impact suggestive comments can have on women’s confidence.

 Though the post in question was written by a younger woman, it accurately reflects the experience of women of all ages who have been at the wrong end of inappropriate remarks by men who seem to believe they can comment on a women’s appearance or style and get away with it without being called out  or questioned about their actions in any way. It is for this reason that the poem the title The Way I Look Tonight I hope you enjoy the read. 
  The Way I Look Tonight 

Lipstick chosen 

to compliment the look 

nothing too revealing

lead us not in temptation

it says in the Lords prayer 

and nobody could be tempted 

by the way I look tonight 

right ?


seduction’s song sings sweetest

 when we don’t look our best 

I suggest there may be truth 

in the belief that boys and some girls 

like girls who remind them of their mum

you know nice but plain 

beautiful but in a classic way 

like Doris Day 

It’s only when we’re coupled up 

they want us to turn on the style 

dress in something more revealing 

and may be show some cleavage

or a  bit of leg 


there is something important 

they don’t seem to get 

you see

when we make our fashion choices 

boys or other potential partners

are the last things on our minds 

as I think you’ll find

when we do decide 

we are dressing to impress 

we are doing it for ourselves 

or for other girls to see us 

  looking at our best 

and believing in the women we are 

@ Gayle Smith 2017 

Dolls And Boys

Hey Readers

I thought I’d post a poem written in 2007 on the journey through what our parents would call the puppy love years.  You know the time that we probably reach between 2nd and 4th year high school when we have what we see as our first meaningful relationship which our parents would dismiss as a crush It’s a time which we all have to go through with hormones dictating our moods and a time when we find out the value of friendship and who we can and can’t trust with our secrets. It’s a  time when I think we learn more about ourselves and others than at practically any period in our lives.  I’ve given it the title Dolls And Boys I hope you enjoy the read. 

When I was young I mean pre teen.
dolls and boys made up my dreams
no girl I knew could ignore
Barbie and the boy next door

When hormones danced and raged inside
childhood thoughts were brushed aside
because no Barbie could compete
with the bad boy down the street

He offered danger, thrills and mystery
not for him his higher history
he was gorgeous in my eyes
gave me promises and lies

I gladly gave him all I could
my heart my soul my womanhood
I knew his type but didn’t care
he had taken my heart and stripped it bare

but in the end we moved on
my innocence forever gone
the world was mine I’d found my voice
I no longer wanted dolls and boys

@ Gayle Smith 2007

Pulling Crackers

Hey everyone.  Due to the events of recent days  you could be forgiven for thinking that I’ve been a wee bit on the serious side lately and  I have to say you’d probably be right.  Well I suppose I had to be but no more I’ve put my sensible skirt  back in the wardrobe so I thought I would post a tongue in check poem on the more humorous side of life and the value of female friendships Though the title  may seem rather Christmas like this tale could apply all year round and I defy any woman to say she hasn’t been in this situation even my lesbian friends can change the word boy to girl and  I’m sure  they’ve been there .Written in 2006 I’ve called it Pulling Crackers I hope you enjoy the read.

Pulling Crackers

I’m always pulling crackers at the weekend
but when I say I’ll see them through the week
the boy I called the Saturday sensation
has suddenly become the local geek
my dreams evaporate and turn to nightmares
I’m so distraught I have to phone my friend
she tells to cheer up and not to worry.
I’ll be pulling better crackers
this weekend.

@Gayle Smith 2006

Star Of The Football Team

Hey everyone This being Valentine’s Day I thought I would take you on a walk down memory lane as I recall Valentine’s Day in 1975 and my first crush at secondary school I was 13 with a head full of dreams and he a year older
totally unaware that a secret girl had a very secret crush on him. After all he was the star of the school football team and I had saw him in shorts. I often wonder if in or approaching his early mid 50’s he is still as good looking as he was back in the day. I’d like to think he was and that some girl got seriously lucky
I’ve called the poem Star Of The Football Team and I hope you enjoy the read.

Star Of The Football Team

He was tall, well taller than me
the year above me at school
with a mop of strawberry blonde hair
he was the star of the football team
the sight of him in shorts
made my legs go weak
and my face turn pink
I wasn’t supposed to think like this
I wanted a kiss I couldn’t have
this drove me mad
I blushed with guilt
as I thought of him in a kilt
then a suit
baby faced and cute
he had it all
I contented myself
with lust filled desires
I had but couldn’t admit
the Britain of the mid 1970’s
wasn’t ready for my secret thoughts
I had the hots for Jamie
my first real crush
who wasn’t actually famous
though he had the looks
to make it as my leading man
he was the hero of my x-rated dreams
I wonder if I would still fancy him
this boy who was star of the football team
and awakened me to a world of possibilities
including the value of knowing oops moments happen to us all
and you’re not a real girl till they do

@ Gayle Smith 2015

The Night A Real Boy Made Me Blush Meant So Much More Than Posters

Hey everyone. Yesterday we celebrated halloween. I just thought I’d share my favourite memory of it. This is a memory which still makes me blush even now and can be said to have had a lasting influence on my life.

I will set the scene by telling you it was 1975 and I had just come from a halloween night out and what happens, my big brother comes in with one of his friends whilst I’m sitting in the living room wearing my mum’s navy blue kimono dress with matching tights and shoes and the kind of baby pink lipstick and nail polish I haven’t seen since in years.

However what makes this so memorable was the fact it wasn’t just any boy who came to the house it was my brother’s best looking friend who was shall we say a bit on the fit side and eventually played a wee bit of football at a reasonably decent standard.

Now, he may not have been quite up to the standard of Donny Osmond but that didn’t seem to matter to me on that particular night. This was the stuff of dreams for a 14 year old transgirl who had to keep her identity secret.

To say that I blushed would I think putting it politely I don’t know why or if I do I’m keeping it quiet but honestly I discovered what it was like to go weak at the knees for the first time and on that cold, wet and windy night he fired the flames of a passion for sensitive, intelligent, good looking guys.
It was a passion I was never to lose and it still burns in my heart to this day.

It is safe to say that this was the boy I wanted to see me like this more than any other. The boy who proved that real boys could be as hot as those unattainable superstars who were the centrefolds of teenage dreams.

So the halloween of 1975 confirmed what I had secretly suspected for a wee while. I was developing an interest in real boys you know the ones from the scheme or across the street. This meant it was time for Donny to move over just a wee bit. From that night he was no longer the centre of my world the way he once had been.

You see on that rain soaked night I discovered there was a new boy in my life and my thoughts turned from those of an angel to those of a devil and my demons would come out to play every time I saw his smile.

Love And Best Wishes
Gayle X