Swimming Lessons

1.

They say I am ‘Gay’
taunt and bully me,
they think they know
the damage—
they don’t.
What is this word
I do not know?
I know more words than them
but this one is out of reach.

Still, the decision has been made.
It is me. It is bad. I am bad.

When I learn what ‘it’ is,
come to realise for myself that I am ‘it’,
I think how could they have known
this about me before I did?
Why am I this bad thing?
I try to hide it—
I can’t.

2.

I was thrown
into the river
behind that schoolyard
and spent years swimming
against the current.

3.

At last, I made it upstream—
a gay man
bathing,
floating,
wondering,
what they would say now,
if I told them how lucky I feel
that I became

a strong swimmer.

By David Hanlon

Biography:

David Hanlon is from Cardiff, Wales. He has been writing poetry over the last two years, drawing mostly on his own life experiences. He is interested in the notion that a dialogue exists between writer & reader; that the writing process does not end with the writer but is ongoing with the reader; that every time a person reads a piece of work, they bring their own experiences & perspectives to it, thus finding & creating new meanings within the artistic creation: that each time a poem is read it is re-written by its reader.

Through his openness, he aims to, in some shape or form, create poems that are relatable & meaningful to readers; that facilitate in making this connection, this dialogue, with them. You can find his work online at Ink, Sweat & Tears, Fourth & Sycamore, Eunoia Review, Scarlet Leaf Review & Amaryllis.