Whose Black Lives Matter?

Whose Black Lives Matter?

Reposted from my personal blog    I was born in 1969, just as the UK switched from Imperial to the Metric system.  One half of my old family were stuck with inches, yards and shillings.  The other half of my family used millimetres and kilograms.  I was stuck exactly in the middle. I learned how … Continue reading Whose Black Lives Matter?
How to Not Die: Some Survival Tips for Black Women Who Are Asked to Do Too Much

How to Not Die: Some Survival Tips for Black Women Who Are Asked to Do Too Much

How to Not Die: Some Survival Tips for Black Women Who Are Asked to Do Too Much:


Black Lives Matter. And that includes black bisexual lives too.“

Check out the Bi’s of Colour report. https://bisexualresearch.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/bis-of-colour-survey-report.pdf

Bisexuals have higher rates of suicideality, mental and physical health problems, Poverty, homelessness etc than cis lesbian and gay people. Black people have the highest rates too.

Where do you think this leaves black bi people, especially thoae of us who are also Trans and cis women/ gender Variant?

Photo credit: @heardinlondonThe Golden Road to HellThere are…

Photo credit: @heardinlondonThe Golden Road to HellThere are…



Photo credit: @heardinlondon

The Golden Road to Hell

There are racists with good aim:
White folks who know how to throw a brick;
How to spit,
How to hit their mark
On my bloody back.
They’re easy to spot,
I can try to avoid
But their strong arms
Make my bones and my spirt crack.

And then there are well-meaning racists,
With soft words
And good intent.
And silence as your life goes down the golden road
To hell.
They make you hurt.
They leave no mark.
And they smile at you all the while.
How can I avoid
What I can hardly see?
So many of them in alternative communities.
And when I bleed
The pain is on the inside
My lungs fill with blood
From their two-faced lies.

Must I choose
Between a kick, a bruise
And those who dismiss, withhold and use?
I can dress physical scars
With bandages and gauze.
How can I soothe?
How can I heal?
The disdain they hold me in their eyes?
Never being seen as human
By an enemy who smiles.
It makes me doubt my own mind.
But racism is a tool to keep folk like me down
Whether a punch to my face
Or destruction with a smile.