NEW POEM: My Firsts
- S P Clark
- Feb 11
- 4 min read
This LGBT+ History Month (U.K.) S P Clark is sharing 20 new poems to mark the 20th anniversary of this historic celebration of the LGBT+ community and its contribution to society. Each poem celebrates S P Clark's own journey navigating his way through the world as a member of the LGBT+ Community. Here is My Firsts. After the poem, there are some links to take a look at where you can read and purchase works by S P Clark!

My Firsts
Written to coincide with LGBT+ History Month (U.K.) 2025
I. First Awareness of Different Feelings
A bricolage of emotions chilled my mind leaving hoarfrost on my frontal lobe
An inimical force that tore me down as my peers charged ahead.
The susurration of other small boys as they tried impressing the schoolgirls held partial clarity and a total lack of perspicuity
Kiss-chase confusion, holding hands just an overwhelming dread.
I was just a kid.
II. First Attraction to Another Boy
Primal desire clung to my body as I stared across the playground
My primary years created unintelligible sense of my racing heart – that sound
We ran together in the field, we laughed, we played games
The memories scorched into me, verboten sensations frozen behind the panes of glass on my hearts’ picture frames.
III. First Kisses with Other Guys
At 10 years old
Lips lightly touching
Two pre-teen boys with no comprehension but instinctively sensing the ‘unusual’ we were
So young you could hear, if you listen close enough, the peroration of our newborn vagitus.
At 14 years old
Pressed against the tired pallid-white wall of a music room when we should be in class
Two callow youths, each hungrily devouring the tongue of the other
Inhaling only the breath the other gave
Deeply aroused in a jejune kind of way
Connected and right, but only whilst shielded from the prying eyes in light of the day
IV. First Hate Directly Received
We were walking hand-in-hand
Walking and talking desultorily, aimless; not taking a stand
A passel of shouters and spouters came barrelling forward, a not-so-merry-band
Each verbal missile like a dart in the heart, each blow of the fist would painfully land.
A dawning realisation that I had to be afraid, to plan beforehand if holding his hand was my will
To keep moving forward, perpetually moving, and never come to a standstill
Accepting their moral turpitude was rough, a discordant band, a most bitter pill
The world became a cold world, a hinterland; the hate took over, began to overspill.
V. First Time I Labelled It
Adorned in armour, my protective shield
Guard-up yet open, tempted to disclose
This is who I am, I said
I am gay, I said
We know who you are, they said
Yes, you’re gay, they said
How could they know?
I wasn’t even sure myself.
I didn’t feel brave
I felt exposed
I could have taken it to the grave
Lived my life unopposed.
I’m not sure I knew what I was saying.
VI. First Time I Shared a Bed with Another Man
Gracelessly, inelegantly, fumbling and bumbling our way out of our fashion in a fashion so ham-fisted it was a sight to behold
Oh fuck!!! The lights are on and the curtains are open. What if the neighbours see? The heating’s gone off – God, I hope he’s not cold!
Finally disrobed and panting we lay closely-knit as two halves of a calcareous shell of clam
What if he doesn’t like what he sees? I like what I see! Look at him now starfished on the bed – the five points of a pentagram.
The blundering gave way to warmth as we both lay speechless, taciturn in our entangled flesh
I can feel his heart pounding, the blood in his veins rushing. I can smell his hair, his sweat, his excitement, his breath so fresh.
VII. First Time I Labelled It Correctly
The fact that I was kissing and touching men gave the statement I’m gay some verisimilitude
But it didn’t run deep as the rivulets left from my tears testified
It didn’t ring true inside.
I’d loved men, I’d loved women, I’d love those in-between
Bisexual; the term seemed to fit, cleared the smokescreen.
A revolving explanation of who I am is a price that I sometimes must pay
Coming out again and again when love with just one gender has been lost
You’ll often hear from lips, I’m bisexual, not gay
I’ve been beaten and heckled, shackled and shunned. Is it worth the cost?
YOU BET IT IS!
VIII. First Feeling of Comfort in my Own Skin
I was in love
The questions, fears and doubts melted away like a clock in The Persistence of Memory
No longer needing to collogue in corners
No longer needing the approval of others.
A state of revitalisation after years of privation
A vertiginous mountain steeped in filth and grime that I struggled to climb
No longer on display as a sparkling anaglyph
Our names are now carved, our own arborglyph.
© S P Clark
You can purchase more S P Clark poetry on LGBTQ+ love by clicking the links below:
The Journey To Love: (A Long Weekend Away - Thursday to Tuesday)
To view the full range of S P Clark's releases, click here
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