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Prepping For Soul Soup (January 13, 2016)

Photo from http://www.hubpages.com Sitting down With a paring knife And a cooking onion In my hands. Taking my time To ensur...

Monday, 27 February 2017

Transphobia (February 27, 2017)

I stand
Before you
At the crossroads
Of our friendship.

Scared
Shitless
How you'll react
To my secret.

Knowing
Past attempts
At being open
Like this.

Have spiraled downwards
Into a dark 
And suicidal depression
At being rejected.

Of your strong
Conservative religious
Beliefs.

That place
Lesbian relationships
As a mortal sin
To my soul.

Never mind
My crossing
Of the gender divide
As well.

Knowing
You could
So easily hurt me
With your anger.

Both emotionally
And physically.

And yet
Refuse
To let my fears
Control my life
Like some drone
On autopilot.

Been there
Done that
Got the t-shirt
To prove it.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Wish I could say, that I had a positive experience, in opening up and sharing myself, but this person's beliefs proves to be too strong, to overcome their religious fears, about me. As they grew more distanced from me, over time, until I broke off, our friendship.

Saturday, 25 February 2017

My Salvation (February 25, 2017)

Hard to believe
A decade will have pass
This August.

Since
My last interaction
With my younger brother
In telling him:

"You're dead
To me.

"Next time
I see you
You'll be 6 feet under."

Rebuilding my life
Piecing together
The various fragments
Of a complex jigsaw puzzle.

Where
No two pieces
Are cut
With the same die.

Having learnt
The harsh lesson
Of not forcing things
To fit.

Because
I wanted them
To.

As a panic attack
Gripped my soul
In it's tightening grasp
With little chance
Of letting go
Anytime soon.

Writing
About my abusive past
In a series of monologues
On my transitional journey.

Needing to prove
To myself
My dark memories
Don't control me.

I do.

In seeking
Their release
In the written word
That I can't speak
To others.

However
Painful
It may be
At that moment
In time.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Isn't it ironic, my multiple learning disabilities, which made writing anything near impossible, as I struggled, in school and university. Now, shape my healing process, and my ability to write poetry, in expressing myself, to others. As if, a key has been fitted, into a locked door, opening it, to a new me, I never knew existed, 10 years ago, when I wrote my first poem, on March 30, 2007, since leaving high school, in June 1990.



'Em Fighting Words (February 25, 2017)

"We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender." 

Winston Churchill (June 4, 1940, speech to Parliament, in London, England)

The war has started
With your firing
The opening salvos
In the North Caroline Legislature
By passing ignorant based
HB2 legislation.

And now
This.

The revoking
Of President Obama's
Presidential decree
Allowing a trans-person
To use the washroom
Of their chosen gender.

Never thought
I would be saying
Or writing
These words:

"Thank you
President Trump."

For your words
And actions
Have united.

A diverse 
And fractured community
As one.

Against you.

As we girth up
For the coming battles
Once more
"Manning" the front line.

Like we did
At the Compton's Cafeteria riots
In San Francisco (August 1966).

Or
The Stonewall Riots
That started
On June 28, 1968.

Except
This time
We will be remembered
By history
For our actions.

In refusing
The Gay and Lesbian communities
To speak for us
Like before.

Advancing
The civil and human rights
Of all.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: The following is, an example of the growing anger, against President Trump., within the trans-community: https://ca.yahoo.com/news/caitlyn-jenner-calls-trump-transgender-082615889.html

Thursday, 23 February 2017

Being Invisible (February 23, 2017)

Not sure
Why I'm feeling
Like  this
Today.

But
I am.

Like someone
Had draped
A veil
Over me.

Moving
Through life
Like a silent ghost.

Observing
Never really seen
By anybody.

As if
My life 
Doesn't matter.

Beyond
The space
I'm taking up
At the moment.

Is this
My depression speaking
Refusing 
To release me?

Soft sigh
Escapes me
As I ponder
This question.

Knowing
Whatever 
My answer is
I wouldn't like it.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: How I am feeling, right now.

Tuesday, 14 February 2017

Standing Tall (February 14, 2017)

I stand 
Before you
Across the great divide.

Covered
In blood and tears
From your anger.

A symbol
Of tolerance
And hope.

That your verbal
And physical assaults
Couldn't silence
Or kill.

Knowing
My chronic depression
Anxiety/panic attacks
And PTSD flashbacks
Are painful badges
I wear.

Like my heart
Upon the sleeve
Bearing witness
To all.

A silent symbol
Of non-violent resistance
To your ignorance
And oppression.

In the world
That growing darker
With each passing day.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: My resistance to President Trump's world view.

Monday, 13 February 2017

Tainted Love (February 13, 2017)

Change.

The one word
Most people dread
Like the plague.

And yet
Our daily life
Revolves
Around this.

A fact
That I learnt
The hard way.

Accidentally
"Outing" myself
To my mom.

On a holiday 
Long weekend
Surprise visit.

As if
My exploration
Of gender
And sexuality. 

Is a face slap 
To her raising me
As a child.

Never mind
For more years
Than I care
To remember.

I lived my life
Her way.

Filled with
Chronic depression
And multiple suicide
Attempts.

Courting Death
At any cost
To ease
My soul deep pain.

Upon her rejection
Of me
As her trans-lesbian
Daughter.

As I ran away
My eyed filled
With bitter tears
To Toronto.

After losing 
My apartment
In Brampton.

(A commuting suburb
Of Toronto).

(Knowing
Unconscientiously)
To move in
With her
Would be signing
My death certificate.

Wondering
Where her words
A lie?

To justify
Her abusive
Manipulative behaviour.

When she says
I love you
T------.

My birth name.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Had thought, of using the video for Soft Cell's Tainted Love, or looking for The Supreme's Where Did Our Love GO?, but realized, both songs deal with love and relationships, from a CIS point of view, for the straight and gay communities.

My mom has trouble, writing out or saying my name, Therisa, as if, it was a toxic poison. Often, in cards or conversations, she will behave, like I have never shared with her, my need to live my life, as a woman.

Saturday, 11 February 2017

Clean Your Plate, There's.... (February 11, 2017)

Food.

A four letter
Curse word
In my daily lexicon.

Necessary evil
Rather avoid
But can't.

Needed
For my daily cocktail
I must take.

To ensure
My long term health.

Both
Mentally
And physically.

As I struggle
With various issues
In my life.

That shaped me
In whom
I am.

Truthfully
I see myself
As an ugly bloated
Beached whale.

Walking
On two legs.

A fact
Have struggled with
For most
Of my life.

Whereas
My ideal weight
People express concern
About my appearance
Being anorexic.

Like my constant battle
With depression.

I cycle
Between binging
And starving.

As if
I'm punishing
Myself.

Something
I started
At the age
Of 9.

Even now
In my starving periods
Eat just enough
For my meds
And nothing more.

Please understand
My shelves are full
With various healthy
Foods.

Just don't feel
Hungry.

Forcing myself
To eat something
For the meds.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Over the past 2 years, have talked with my medical team, about this, as it impacts, on my diabetes and other parts, of my overall health.