Award Winning and published performance poet Ruthie Adamson, AKA Wonky Wordsmith, is wonky because it wasn’t her fate to be straight so she is homosexual and asymmetrical and a wordsmith because she wows with words about those things and other very varied subjects. She is self-taught Liverpudlian literata. Her famous fans include singer-songwriter-playwright-poet Suzanne Vega who describes her as an eloquent natural performer, The Scaffold’s John Gorman who calls her a poetic tour de force and human rights activist Peter Tatchell who gave her post performance praise when she recently opened for him. Scotland’s equivalent of poet laureate Jackie Kay advised her to have faith in her poetic prowess and that faith has propelled her from grassroots gigs to performing for festivals. She recently performed for Chester Pride where her host described her as the Maya Angelo of the queer world. She was recently shortlisted for a performer of the year award, and won! However, she says her richest reward is when those who jump aboard her rhyming roller coaster rides feel inspired. She is neither famous or infamous herself but she is working on being both so watch this space!
My Magical Metaphorical Mould
The story which is about to unfold is of a shape-shifting magical metaphorical mould
Which mentally makes misshapen me improve a millionfold!
Being birthed biologically by my mentally misshapen Mother meant me being in bad shape so from my harmful history I longed to be set free.
I needed mould Mother’s to transform me by birthing me in good shape and so escape a far from gentle genetic geometry.
If not my malfunctioning Mum then which women to get the geometrical job done would be best to make my metamorphosis manifest?
What wonderful women would lead Ruth to the truth so I could be the best me I can be and fly free from negativity’s nest?
What would be the right angle from which to reshape Ruthie’s troubling triangle of me, positivity and negativity to leave only the delightful duo of positivity and me making what was a terrible triangular trio a 2-pronged V for victory?
So no more would I have to endure the distressing dizziness of going round and round in the same self-sabotaging circles I abhor thanks to my mould Mothers’ motivating chivalry.
This poem’s primary protagonist who inspires me above all others is my Mother’s Mother’s Mother whose Jewish genes fearfully fled From pogrom persecution because bravely being an on the run refugee beats being dead!
As a tender teen of fifteen due to obscene oppression her horrified hearts’ obsession was to respond to the scream…
Of her other descendants and I whose cry was, “Run for our lives so you don’t die and we may be born!” to give her sad story’s ending a happy theme.
Thanks to my pride-provoking predecessor being brave she escaped being Anti-Semitism’s slave so setting free from never being born my Grandmother, my Mother and me.
My brave Bubbe via her story-glory posthumously promotes positivity publicly in a Merseyside Museum gallery for all to see and as for her grateful Great-Granddaughter she inspires me to fight fears which I consequently conquer courageously!
It isn’t only wonderful women of my own species I look to for ways to transcend life’s faeces so my missive wouldn’t be complete without me mentioning a certain sweet pussy who isn’t a pussy when it comes to self-control.
I refer to a female feline family member who by being a courageous kitty taught me to remember by being a stoic soul that even when death steals from me those I love I can continue to feel whole.
Moulding me would not be complete without the fearless feat of my trans sisters’ undeterred determination and who to be true due to their strengths Despite transphobia’s tryanny transition, inspiring me to be to myself true too which to do I go to liberating lengths.
And not forgetting far from masculine males whose nurturing nuances entails them having a feminine side so they do not hide from opening their hearts wide.
The inner-woman of those marvellous men again and again makes me more womanly by Ruthie rejecting bravado-bullshit that those girlie guys and I can not abide.
Then there’s Alison Lapper whose lovely limbless quirky contour I adore and all the beautiful beacons of wonderfully wonky, wise women who shine a light on disablism’s dark for me their Crip Community comrade, Helping me hugely to flaunt my delightfully deformed digits because they assist adorably asymmetrical me to see that beauty does not necessarily need symmetry and so I love how I am asymmetrically made!
Still on the theme of disability an epiphany has set me free from thinking that my M.E. malaise can chronically cause me to live life in a debilitating daze. Naming no name I could never proudly pat on the back enough a disease-defying dame who despite disconcerting disease-distress she does bless me with wisdom because she has a knack of not being held back in ways which amaze!
To me she is another mould Mother and also the biological birth buddy to another mould Mother who despite a painful past sings songs which inspire in ways which world-wide last And her show must go on attitude although a platitude moulded me so I don’t do despondency and consequently no matter what obstacles life throws at me for me negativity is an outcast.
Another artistic amiga who is always eager to defy disability with her aesthetically adorable art despite her lungs lacklustre manages to muster up breathtaking beauty…
In ways which breathes new life into me and even though her vision is far from 20/20 her unimpaired insight helps me to see more clearly.
That same fantastic female friend in one of her beautiful books about art allowed me to make a start on being an inspirational woman myself…
In her profound publication what inspires me to feel elation are my wise words which defy disablist dross and which I proudly proclaim can be found on a famous friend’s bookshelf.
This tribute also includes the faceless females whose admirable acts praise eludes because their names are anonymous so sadly won’t go down in history. I do not know the shape of things to comecause I am not set in my ways so until the end of my days my mould Mothers will mould me indefinitely but I trust them implicitly so I gladly embrace my future’s mould mystery!
My mould Mothers also include faulty females whose rude bad behaviour is my saviour because it inspires my desires to be better than them. Women who have caused me hurt mould me because that dirt I recognise as a blessing in disguise which will fertilise this girl’s growth and for every wicked woman I am worth ten!
I have too many mould Mothers to give them all a mention but it’s my missive’s intention to thank them for moulding me with their regular reinvention of absolutely appreciative me.
It would be really rude if I didn’t express this girl’s gratitude for all my female foes, all my female friends and every feminine fellow who by example assist malleable me to be a repeatedly reshaped Ruthie!