Tuesday 16 October 2018

Behind The Mask (October 13, 2018)

My soul
Lays before you
In judgment.

Although
Haven't done
Anything wrong.

Hatred and loathing
Flow from your words
And body language.

Antithesis
Personal beliefs
Come to life
You deny existing.

Calling yourself
“People politician
Working for the little guy”.

Anger and discord
Follows you
Personal dark cloud.

Half-truths outright lies
And negative stereotypes
Spreads your gospel
Unadulterated hate.

Media manipulation
Limited exposure
Avoiding flaws
Emperor's New Clothes.

Abundantly clear
People don't want reality
When seeking truth
Preferring edited fiction
Comforting worldview.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: Another wee hours of the morning poem. My muse, rudely awakened me,
with a 3 am wake up call. Insisting that I write this out.

Sigh.

I'm not writing about Donald Trump, rather the emerging populist politician that’s gaining
power. Often, they're found on the right of the political spectrum, but not limited to this, as
Venezuela has proven.

This poem is written for the Poets United’s midweek motif, with abundance, as writing
prompt.

Giving A Name (October 12, 2018)

I write this
Personal knowledge/experience
(In abundance)
Living with mental illness.


Good days
Never know
Looking at me.


Dark days
Simple things
Near impossible task.


Overcoming barriers/stigmas
Society erected
Seeking help.


Wait lists-year or longer
Many programs
Budget cuts.


Reluctant CBT referral
Fought for it.


And yes
Transphobic psychiatrist
(They exist).


Best intentions
Paved Hell’s Highway.


Tough love-inspiration talks
Veiled personal attacks
Mental/physical character
Mistaken thought-motivating.


Delicate vase
Shatter-wrong word
Talking blocked.


Shunned-wrongly thinking
Typhoid Mary
Infecting everyone.


Sighing.


One in four people
Experience mental illness
Starting early teens.


Statistic-by eleven
Suicide attempt.


Globally
Little/no access care
800,000 suicides
Annually.


Therisa © 2018


Author’s note: On October 10, 2018, I came across The Guardian op-ed that Lady Gaga
and Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus (Director-General, World Health Organization)
co-wrote for October 9th edition, marking World Mental Health Day. Here’s the link to
The Guardian op-ed:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/oct/09/lady-gaga-mental-health-global-emergency-suicide


For The Record: For most of my life, I have struggled with various mental illnesses, without
realizing myself or those around me. In December 2007, I was officially diagnosed as being
chronically depressed, several anxiety disorders, agoraphobic, justifiably paranoid (I dispute
this, as the psychairist was transphonic) and PTSD. This psychological assessment was
ordered, as part of my application for Ontario Disability Support Program (ODSP), which
supports Ontarians with mental and physical disabilities. My application was approved after
2 months of being received by ODSP. Unusually fast, as they’re traditionally known to reject
applications on general principles. Guess, it helped that I had just come out of a homeless
shelter, in July 2007, when apply for ODSP.


This poem is written for the Poets United’s midweek motif, with abundance, as writing
prompt.


Coming World Order (October 3, 2018)

Scream-whisper
Never heard.

Tears-parched wadi
In autumn rains.

Growing despair
Feeling helpless
Systemic isolation.

Fascist jackboots
Distance echoes
Ever louder.

Owl hoots
Into night sky
No one left.

Only cockroaches
Walk around
Humanity’s hubris.

Therisa © 2018

Monday 1 October 2018

Getting The Balance Right (October 1, 2018)

Warning: Contains material that some
may find offensive.




After a week
Of revelations
In Washington D.C.
And personal discoveries.


Find myself
On a precipice
Asking:


How do we view
The #MeToo movement
On sexual harassment
And abuse?


Do we hold people
Like Judge Kavanaugh
Higher standard
Given position of power?


Are we
As a collective whole
Ready to accept
There's no excuse
For this behaviour?


I say people
This abuse knows
No gender divide.


And yes
I believe Dr Blaney Ford
In her allegations
Against Judge Kavanaugh.


Looking back
Kicking myself
So blind-missing this
My own #MeToo experiences.


Innocent seeming
Comments and jokes
Pejorative putdowns
Attacking identity/self-worth.


Feeling powerless
Protest to management
Be labelled antisocial
Affecting reviews/pay increases.


Came out transwoman (August 2006)
Small warehousing company
Mostly male employees
Quit-March 2007.


Stressful time
Buried deep
With other events.


Bitterly sighing
Fighting acidic tears
PTSD flashbacks.


Feel so dirty/violated
Nothing can scrub
This strain away.


Never told anyone
Dark secret
From the 1980s.


Two particular bullies
Throughout their attacks
Made homosexual comments.


Implying
I wanted oral sex
Never have.


With crude gestures
To groin region
Signalling sexual satisfaction
Before leaving me
Laughing.


Not sure
If we've fully understand
Paradigm shift
That #MeToo movement
Is demanding globally.


Specifically
Rejecting women (cis or trans)
As sexual object
To used and abused.


Witnessed
By the “old boy” circus
Of the Trump administration
And Republican control Congress.


But change
Is slowly coming
Addressing this imbalance
From the grassroots up.


For some
The change is
Too late.


Therisa © 2018


Author’s note: A day has past, since I wrote the above poem. Giving me, time to
reflect on the sharing of my abusive past, and the fact that I felt compelled to hide parts of it, for decades. I know, my own experiences aren't just limited to a small segment of the transcommunity, but cross over into the ciscommunity, as well. Whether or not, people want to admit to this reality. In denying that transwomen can be raped and sexually assaulted, like ciswomen are. Thus, refusing access to the healing programs available. I speak on this, my own personal experience, in being denied to a battered/abuse women program, because I'm a transwoman.


Another thing that struck me, this morning, is the way, which young boys are socialized. A
sense of entitlement that they're superior to girls, thus deserving special preferential
treatment. This strikes at the heart of the #MeToo movement, as it tries to stop this centuries
old attitude that women need/use sex to advance themselves, in the wider world.


Honestly, I don't understand, how anyone can vote for a creepy politician, like Donald Trump.
Who uses and abuses women, without a second thought, like his handling of female
reporters.


I see the #MeToo movement, as the next wave of feminism, without the stigma that feminism
currently has, in many segments of society. Realistically, the opening salvos from the
#MeToo movement, have been successful in removing blatant abusers, from their position of
power. The next and hardest step, is reeducating people to move beyond sexualized of
others, and accept based upon merit and ability.


FYI: This poem is part of a 4 poem set that I have completed, from September 27-October 1,
2018. Exploring some of the issues, I have to/have faced, in regaining mental health
equilibrium, as I walk my healing journal.


Truthfully, I have serious doubts about posting these poems, given the personal nature and
how people will react to them. Especially, as the #MeToo movement has primarily focused
on ciswomen experiences, ignoring what transwomen are facing on the daily basis, in the
workplace and elsewhere. As some feminists have expressed very transphobic attitudes
towards transwomen and the transcommunity. Last thing, I want to do, is spread this
fight into other forums, hurting innocent bystanders.

Written for Poets United’s midweek motif, using the word prompt: balance.

My Story, Part 2 (September 30, 2018)

Warning: Contains material that some may find offensive.

People will say
I'm bandwagon jumping
#MeToo movement.

Realizing
I've experienced
Sexual harassment
Without knowing it.

Often
Joking manner
Putting me down
Derogatory remarks.

Criticized
Too thin skinned
Told lighten up-laugh.

My existence/thoughts
Don't matter
Beyond the punchline.

Worse
Sexual taunts
Intermixing physical blows
Accompanying motions
Pantomiming oral sex.

As if
I wanted them
This sexual manner
I don't.

Laughing-leaving me
Crying battered wreck
They head home.

Silenced memories dismissed
Another trans-bashing
Experienced.

Therisa © 2018

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