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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...

Saturday, 24 September 2016

Wasted Energy? (September 21, 2016)

Don't understand
Why you need
To prove
Your manhood
In this way.

As you drive by
Shouting out
Various Homophobic
Or transphobic slurs.

Are you
So insecure
And scared
You need 
To belittle others?

As you drink
Your favourite brand
Of liquid courage.

Getting behind
The steering wheel.

A rite of passage
Many people experience
Growing up.

Call me
A hopeless dreamer.

You'll change
Your juvenile ways.

From a pathetic man-child
To a responsible adult.

One hopes.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Another poem written, in the wee hours of the night. Damn broken sleep.

Friday, 23 September 2016

It's Still Here, Folks (September 23, 2016)

As a teenager
I remember
The "die in"s
By local AIDS activists
In downtown Toronto.

As they protected
Government inaction
On this killer virus
In the 1980s.

Once more
AIDS has reared
Its ugly head.

As a new canary
Has replaced
The LGBT+ community 
In the coal mine.

Of this battle
For life and death.

As alarm bells
Are being rung
By the provincial medical
And Aboriginal communities. 

In a province
That enjoys
The luxuries
Of the developed world.

With the inflection
And death rates
Of the worse
Developing nations
With high HIV/AIDS.

As if
They're an ostrich
With its head
In the sand.

Not wanting
To believe
The statistics
Before them.

At what point
Does public safety
Come first
In preventing
These needless deaths?

Are we
That much ahead
By saving a nickel

Having to spend
A dollar or more
In future budgets?

Reality is
So simple.

Therisa © 2016

Author's noteSadly, in the province of Saskatchewan, the Aboriginal and Metis communities are staggering, under the deadly epidemic of HIV/AIDS that's twice Canada's national rate. Although, noone want to mention it, but if this was happening, in the "white" population of Saskatchewan, Heaven and Hell would be move, to bring this epidemic under control, regardless, of the cost to the provincial budget. Below, is a link to this unfolding tragedy, in Saskatchewan: www.cbc.ca/news/canada/saskatoon/saskatchewan-doctors-state-of-emergency-hiv-1.3768183

Monday, 19 September 2016

Emotional Roller Coaster (September 19, 2016)

Can feel it
Coming over me
Like a Siren
It calls.

A darkness
In my soul.

Corrosive touch
Is resistance
To all known treatment.


Wiping away
Tears of frustration.

A dark brown trail
Streak my cheeks
From those
I missed.

As concussive waves
Over my body.

Leaving me

And physically.

To runaway
And hide
From everyone.

Caring not
Am damaging
By doing so.

Awaiting Hypos'
Calming embrace
That never
Seems to arrive.

I wait it.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Starting Friday, September 16, 2016, until today, I have been riding an emotional roller coasters, as my mood has swinging drastically, between bouts of crushing depression and normalcy, for me. I haven't experience anything like this, since I was taking anti-depressants, several years ago. And I refuse to start my 9th anti-depressant/anxiety medication, which my family doctor was given, during a mini-psyche assessment, four years ago. Been there, done that, and got the ugly t-shirt, to prove it.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Giving Back (September 14, 2016)

My generation
People have labelled
As "Generation X".

Have been told 
We don't appreciate
The sacrifices
Of previous generations
Before us.

To which
I say

Having myself
Lost everything
In my life
That I value.

My immediate family
And those
Who I considered
Close friends.

I shared
My true self.

As a woman
A male body.

How total strangers
Reached out
And helped me.

I was suicidally depressed 
After these rejections.

By helping me
To rebuild
My inner foundation
In a stronger
And more flexible

Material needs
Can be replaced
With ease.

By using 
A debit
Or credit card.

A person's life 
Can't be.

This message 
Was brought home
To me
Last month.

When I saw
An elderly woman
Of South Asian heritage
Rummaging through
My apartment building's 
Garbage bin.

Seeking discarded items
To help her survive
As a huge smile
Dominated her face.

The abject poverty
Of her physical situation.

Only wish
I could have 
Help her.

Paying back
Who have helped me
The past decade.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: There are many people, who I have lost contact with, over the years, who kindness of heart and generosity, have allowed me, to write this poem, before you. To them, I wish to say, "I sorry", and hope, you understand. From this bitter experience, I have discovered, what true friendship means, and the price that it sometimes demands, from us. To which, I willing pay, without second thoughts. 

Tuesday, 13 September 2016

Life Goes On (September 12, 2016)

"The hardest years, the darkest years, the roarin' years, the fallen years 
These should not be forgotten years 
The hardest years, the wildest years, the desperate and divided years 
We will remember, these should not be forgotten years"

Forgotten Years by Midnight Oil (!990)

Have never thought
Of myself
As being brave
Or courageous
Like others
Have told me.

Who is struggling
To understand themselves
And how society see

Have spent
Most of my life
In hiding.

From a violent past
On various fronts
In my life.

Many ways
I feel like
That 7 year old child
Who fled home
On her bike.

As the village boys
Threatened her
With shunning
And violence.

In wanting 
To be
Wonder Woman.

Playing super heroes.

To reemerge
Twenty-eight years later
As an adult.

To fight
A brutal war
On several levels
For my very survival
Over the past 11+ years.

As a person
With true value
And meaning.

Every milestone is
A victory
Over the darkness
In my life.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Today (Monday, September 12, 2016), I read about the early death of Alexis Arquette, who died, from complication from AIDS. One of the many daemons that plague my community, like mental illness and self-medicating with drugs and alcohol. May we all find true enlightenment and knowledge, for having people, like Alexis, in our lives. Thank you Alexis.

Friday, 9 September 2016

Balancing My Needs (September 9, 2016)

A weary sigh
As apprehension 
Fills me.

Am I letting 
Too much
Of my life

Have had others 
Use my past
As a blunt weapon
Against me.

Some may view
This admittance
As a paradox.

The open nature
Of my poetry.

To heal
I must be open
And honest
About my experiences.

In releasing
Many years
Of suppressed memories.

Complete healing
Of those partially 
Healed wounds
I have.

How does one
Do this
Without revealing
Too much?

A question
I am struggling
To answer.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Am I, being paranoid, for feeling this way? I know, I have major trust issues, with people, as I have, in the past, been involved, with those, who have abused my openness, for their own selfish needs. For I need to move forward, in my life, without constantly looking over my "shoulders", for an ambush or two.

Thursday, 8 September 2016

Death: The Card Of Transitioning (September 6, 2016)

Calendar page
Flips over
From June
To July.

Forced to face
A reality.


Of a personal
And family nature.

That gnaws 
At me
Like a cancer.

As I stand
Upon the cusp
Of change.

Fighting back
The bitter
And anger tears.

There is
No going back
For me.

Either way
A part of my soul
Whither away.

To return.

Accept mom's view
Of who I am.

Or reject it.

Moving forward
As a woman
In a transphobic
And homophobic world.

Looking back
I realize

Mom's first toxic words
From her mouth
Made my decision.

As my relationship
With her

The road
I walk upon

Never realizing
The significance
Of the first card
I turned over
Until much later.

As for
The other two cards
They lay unturned
For now.

The Goddess knows
What they are.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Late June and early July, is a deadly period of the year, for me. As I have lost or have come close, to losing many family members, during this part of the year. Losing my grandpa and oma, days apart on the calendar, separated by almost 2 decades. For my oma's funeral, I was one of three sets of siblings, who were pallbearers, for her. Ironically, her death hit me, the least, I had made my peace with her, and her release from the pain, she was suffering from blood/bone cancer, over her final year of life. 

Whereas, Canada Day, shall occupy, forever, in my mind, as my own personal "Day From Hell". Starting, in 1985, when my Dad had, his first major heart attack, while I was visiting family, in Edmonton, Alberta, for a couple of weeks. Upon returning, I told mom, "Dad had a heart attack. Did he?" To which, she turned ghostly white, hearing these words, from me. When she asked, who told me, I replied, "No one. I just knew." Little, did I realize, this marked the beginning of my "Summer of Hell", as my younger brother went ballistic and attacked mom and I, for several weeks, before dad was healthy enough, to be discharged, from the hospital, to come home. Forever, changing the family dynamics.

Next time, was Canada Day 2006, when mom showed up, unannounced, at my apartment, in Brampton, Ontario, after I had told her, specifically, I need the long weekend, alone, to deal with stuff. Little, did I know, she would use this, as an excuse, because I sounded "sad" over the phone. Never mind, I was on my vacation time, and trying to recharged myself, having worked, an average 60 hr/work, at my job, and helping mom out, on the weekends, when I didn't have the energy to do anything. To say, Antarctica was a warmer place than mom's reaction, to seeing me, in a red t-shirt, from Carleton University and a navy blue floral skirt, is the understatement of the century. Sadly, I have broken off, all contact with her, for my mental and physical health.