A poem by Alyster Gynn. 7th March 2022.
I thought that she was in my future and I thought that she was in my past.
Today, She is not with me.
Today, He is not with me.
Today, They are not with me
Paris, my dog that owns me.
Paris. My little dog that licks up the tears from my eyes.
How come I never met you when I know so much about you?
We barked at armies, strangers,enemies, friends, police, family, lovers, criminals wrapped in golden pretence – how come I never met you yet?
My little, beautiful dog.
Are you my future, my past or today?
How come I can stroke you and feel the heat of your body comforting me through the bruises and wounds of Hate Crime?
How come I am here in the 21st Century in Candlelight writing about War?
Oh! and I know, Paris, you will guide me through the stars.
We are not hunters and we both wear bright orange as we explore the truth of forests and woods.
Fuck Betrayal – It will never betray us.
I am transgender, autistic, a victim of child abuse, a survivor of thalidomide, gay and a little bit bi, depressed and suicidal, but a little bit hopeful.
Here is my candle to Ukraine today.
Here is my candle to every child, every person, every animal, every mouse, every seagull, every thing suffering.
I hold you. I comfort you. I hold you in this wind and storms, I hold you and protect you.
My name is Mr. Alyster Gynn.
And that is not important.
I am no one.
Church today. I Dropped a whole lot of nappies, different baby formula milks and, perhaps, the saddest of all (broke my heart) bandages for the children in Ukraine.
I have come off of Hunger Strike on the 13th day.
‘Livewest’ Housing Association and East Cornwall local Policing enabling Hate Crime against me. Their prejudice putting my life at great risk.
Thank You to my Outreach Worker, my advovate and Social Services for still trying to help me have a voice.
12th Day of Hunger Strike.
I could not be happier because these tears are washing me down.
And again I talked to seagulls and cried at their brilliant flight.
You are correct Alyster, said the Lord.
I have seen what they do to you – You are correct Alyster.
I give to you, this morning tears.
I give to you, this morning a way out of numbness a way out of pain.
I give to you, this morning the smell of the salt water washing our everyday from the sea at Looe.
You are a Cornish man and so many have tried to batter that out of you, but you held on Alyster. You held on.
You still hold on.
And here we are weeping together You and Me.
Knowing the crimes against you.
Your body and spirit so broken Alyster.
Here you are. Still.
Still, Here you are.
Let’s chuckle through tears as we nod at betrayal.
Family, friends, police, housing.
Let’s chuckle together as we watch the seagulls soar.
What beautiful, beautiful salt in those tears.
And this is what I did for you today Alyster.
I swapped the numbness for the real.
And we cried together.
( Day 10 Hunger Strike)
9th day hunger strike
Practice of ‘Be The Centre’ for a future ‘Riverside United Church’ service.
This is Kilminorth Woods, Looe, Cornwall.
I am bringing Blues Harp and Biscuit Tin drumming into the song.
This is the 6th Day of my Hunger Strike.
Please see my Living Will at the foot of this page in circumstances of my eventual and predictable murder, suicide or Hunger Strike brought about because of Police and Housing negligence.
Dispite unlawful claims, perjury, malicious prosecution and copious Perverting the course of Justice – NOT ONE person has been injured by my hands.
I was not and have not been charged by false claims.
I was, however, charged with assault due to police officers commiting perjury in court and malicious prosecution. The injury, through self defence was a minor bruise and was accidental as I tried to protect myself from Karen Stone, PC Martin Lawrence and PC Rook all committing Perjury.
The court, at that time ignored the bruises the Police officers had given me (A drunken, holidaying police officer)
Due to East Cornwall Police, Livewest Housing and Cornwall Council enbling Systematic And multiple Hate Crime Attacks and Assaults against me. And enabling and condoning a group of people to pervert the course of Justice.
There have been threats to my life, I have, falsley been called a paedophile to encourage more violence against me. This, a particulaly cruel and ugly action, a slur to bring about violence from others. And so incredibly sad as I lost my family,, through their need to sweep under a carpet’ in part, due to me speaking out about childhodd abuse to the police in the past so that other relatives and children were protected. My family not appreciating my formal reporting of uncles.
At least two women have falsly claimed I hit them, a direct perverting the course of Justice and this has been a tactic used to get me further attacked and threatened by men. Again, incredibly cruel as for 40 years of my life, I was born female and spent most ‘presenting as a woman’ until I transtioned medically to male.
Plus too as a post graduate academic and feminist have a long history/herstory of understanding the impact of violence against women.
I despise the actions of these bullies and this violent mob.
I have been called a ‘faggot’ that needs ‘my fucking head kicked in.’ And A Tranny’ and then punched.
I have been left out human excrement and dog’s excrement outside my flat on the carpeted hall way.
This mob, tenants too of the Livewest Social Housing, lie to the police and in my trauma and distress claim untruths.
I am then arrested by Police bloodied and injured and ordered over radio to be taken to Derriford or by kind Custody Nurses ordered to take me to hospital. I am then not charged because of the facts that the false claims of me of assault, there are no injuries to these utter and compete criminal liers. But plenty to me.
I am autistic, I don’t even like being close to people let alone hit anyone. I never fight back I am knocked to the ground and then just protect my head.
I spoke out about illegal drug actvities in our Social Housing building, often involving teenagers from the beach front being invited in to a tenant’s flat to particpate. That tenant and his friend another tenant have physically assuated me 5 times. With one attack nearly taking my life.
I spoke out about close gatherings in first lock down as the tenants and friends were entering the actual flat of a woman, whom was a dear friend, Wendy Headland, St Mary’s Looe. Chronic breathing difficulties – now, I am told ‘fucking dead.’
with pre covid chronic breathing difficulties.
I learned last week that she has now died.
And Margaret Pengelly, of Looe, Cornwall, her son’s partner, not only abusing me for years as a man with disabilties – broke the law time after time after time.
My Dear Friend, Wendy Headland has passed. I read her cards to me, I look at her gifts to me, I reas her letters to me. Before Margaret Pengelly came and set up me and Wendy’s son Johnathan Lang.
Margaret Pengelly set me up and Johnathan Lang with her lies.
I see through them, I always have. One day Johnathan should too.
One of the attacks (photographs) here is by her son whom was told lies by his partner to set me up to violence. We once had a fire in our social housing building. I discovered it in the communual rubbish area. I shouted and banged and ser alarms off and got everyone out, my then friend with breathing difficulties first, when asked about the severe beating her son gave me when he was drunk outside the fishermans arms (I was walking past to co op) He told police there was no fire. His Mother must have never told him about it, he assumed I was lying. I have gotten the evidence since then through freedom of information.
These injuries here are caused over a period of 5 years. two at the end of 2021. Three further attacks this year. Recent was a family of three people, verbal abuse and violence and not allowing me to bet to my flat safely by holding the door shut from the inside.
Livewest Housing have enabled these attacked and blamed me for having my face in the way when punched.
Abhorrent and unscrupulous Housing Agency.
Devon and Cornwall police, Looe and Liskeard have not arrested one attacker, not one prosecution. My hand here bloodied was ripped to pieces by a barwoman’s false nails as she tried to rob me as her son punched me to the ground.
These injuries in the photographs here (at different dates and there are still even more crimes against me, this is the tip of the iceburg) were causesd by : Nigel Kemp and in part with Georgina Ramsey, Johnathan Lang, Margaret Pengelly, Liandra Stone and her son Elliot Stone, Matthew – barman from Salutation Inn. Paul Powell and David Bennet/s aided by ——– Soames.
Naming and expose is not for revenge or reprisal, it is purely the only way I can protect my own life now.
Better to use words and writing than fists and I can’t physically fight back.
I have been given NO CHOICE, failed by the police, housing and, even, Safeguarding practices, which in fact have made my life pure hell.
I was never in the pubs, I never used the pubs. I was protesting an unfair ban of Looe Pub Watch, because I had got distressed in the Ship inn on e when I was grieving at someone’s death and cross and shouted at a man whom was friends and condoning, alongside our, then, Mayor John Juleff calling a Woman a ‘Black Bitch’ a group of councillors and business men were laughing at this and condoning the public social media post.
One Sergeant even, with sincere cruelty) mocked about the Truth coming out at my ‘Inquest.’
Long time formally challanging ‘Livewest Housin’ and Looe/ Liskeard East Cornwall bias, prejudice and enabling Hate Crime, not one person has been prosecuted because of the ‘Cover Up.’
I am Autistic, Transgender (Female to Male) and Bisexual.
I am currently in communications with the Housing Ombudsma, My Solicitors and the Independant Office of Police Conduct.
During the process of ‘Safeguarding’ – I have been assaulted another 6 times.
There have been an estimated 15 statements made by this mob which are Perverting the Course of Justice.
How come an Lgbt, Autistic and depressed person is neglected so much that He endures this suffering and these homophobic, transphobic, ableist, anti disability Numerous, appauling, abhorrent Hate Crimes.
To say that my death through murder will evince the truth, would be accurately and chillingly possible.
I am left with possible PTSD, traumatised and saddened by Police negligence and prejudice.
I, hereby state and wish it to be known in the e ent of my death, either through suicide, Hunger Strike or Hate Crime Murder, that I do and would hold Devon and Cornwall Police, Livewest Housing, Cornwall Council ASB teams as responsible. This Date 22nd February 2022. Mr Alyster Gynn.
It is such a difficult thing. It should not be, but it is.
When we open our hearts to love as children and as adults it is a slippery slope of snakes and ladders.
Out of all of my ‘Art Works’: Songwriting, Poetry, Fine Arts, Crafts.
One is my most favourite – this Lamp, made out of rusty, polished wheel parts, Edison Style bulb and a wire lampshade which I fashioned to spell the word ‘Love.’
I think that what happened was that I tried to be a ‘Free Spirit.’
It kind of worked, but didn’t work and then it Did work.
It was yesterday morning and I was looking to the beach front and the crashing waves and I saw that the baby seagull had grown up.
In my mind, to myself (Thank Goodness) I was talking to them and saying “Buds, I have no food.”
I remembered I had bought butter to go with my potatoes for the whole week.
I never buy butter.
But I did yesterday.
So I am kind of asking God … do seagulls like butter?
I don’t know Alyster he says, try it and find out.
(They did, they liked a couple of little throws of knobs of butter)
One thing I hate about tourism in Cornwall is people kicking, starving, throwing stones at, hurting seagulls.
They were here long before a Cornish School ‘Half Term.’
I Fucking Love Them.
They Wake me up every morning.
I Fucking Love Them.
Let’s talk about Love here.
I didn’t get to Church today BTW. I was sober, but sleep deprived.
The Good News is that I have, now, learned and can play guitar by heart … by Which, I mean ‘Jesus, Be the Centre.’
Look at our hands, look at our acts says Reverend Chloe Jones.
Tell My Jokes and Stories on says Reverend Andrew Day.
Anita, You are a multi tasker . You and John play That Church Organ so beautific. At Riverside United Church, West Looe, Cornwall.
Frances, I am so pleased that You were called.
Your Kindness, this weekend has been incredible.
I have nothing now. But, I have everything.
Let Me Explain.
Potatoes. I Have. Tobacco, I have. Warmth and Shelter, I have.
Coffee? well, a little bit. Electric …well a little bit.
Thousands of Art Works in every media going I have.
Injustice. Wow Injustice against me? We are talking a million Mount Everests Everest’s Everestsetsts . Sorry Spell Check went there.
I am not one for challenging Nature. I am one for challenging ‘Us’ People, Humans. The things that we do to each other, that make all other creatures pity ‘Us.’
Catch You on Monday 28th February. 2022.
…don’t be a robot, feel the Stars and the Universe and never be afraid.
… Try Your Best – That is Good enough.
Here’s the thing. I life time of music and like maths, I run away from theory.
In fact it makes me nauseous.
It’s probably called something like … musicpraxius or something.
It’s why I fly solo.
I would be eating cheese and tomato sandwhiches (in an orchestra pit) during some amasing rendition of ‘We are the wombles.’
Playing by ear is, literally, that.
It hurts like…
One plays a song a trillion times just to know it and remember it and that includes them that I wrote too.
And yes I did and still do.
No one knows though, phew…….
I draw, paint and write each song down and hard copy it. I do this because my memory gets distracted by … Everything.
…Anyway, I will be attempting to sing (with guitar) the Wonderful ‘Be The Centre’ at Riverside United Church this coming Sunday.
Written by Michael Frye.
There are a few obstacles to overcome to acheive this.
1. Don’t be drunk
2.Don’t be drunk
3. Don’t forget your Song/chordsheets, your guitar, your clothes, Your Lip balm.
it’s a tough world in the Church Today.
So, here is a question or maybe more than one.
The Guitar bit I can do, the flute or pin whistle or high little wind intstrment I can hum, but the riff is bootiful as they would say in Wales and Norfolk.
Thing is, it’s just me on my ownsome.
But …. But …. I can and do play the blues harp.
So can I do that Blues harp riff with a guitar and neck holder of blue’s harp (Bob Dylan) style?
I don’t know!
The song is, it seems in D, and when it comes to Blues harp the key, or scale, or notes or thingweegigs transcend.
I told you I don’t do music theory and I would just rather play.
Maybe someone out there will knows wtf I am talking about and suggest my strapped neck blues harp to do that high pitch riff will be a C blues harp or D or …..
Help if you can please. I’m serious.
Or I will Just hum and allude to it.
In other news. I have booked up with EU Music in Saltash.
And they have given me every confidence that they will look after, repair and set up my most precious Classical guitars. Precious because of my story and his/her story not money stuff.
The journey of that guitar.
There comes the disparity of throwing a nylon string down like a rock band when in fact one is still trying to sing ‘The wheels on the bus go. round round oo ooo. ooo. oo
Wish me Luck for Sunday.
I may freak so many Church goers out. I love acoustics and I am happy to move anywhere around the Church with my geetar to sing.
Oh, yes. I got a broken nose too lots of times. My singing voice it at it’s very finest.
This Post is Dedicated to Rev Sue Hill, I am so sorry that I didn’t get to meet you last Sunday. We met a lovely Rev called Peter though, nervous but warm and Kind. I heard lovely things about you Rev Hill. Peeved that I didn’t get to see your smile.
I was even sober too!
RIP Rev Sue Hill.
I chose this morning of heavy rain and gales to walk and cook my breakfast in the woods. It just about worked. I’m off to Church, seemingly dressed as Indiana Jones.