The Storm (September 13, 2023)

 

Gently the mist

Caresses my face

Wiping tears away

As I look up.

Knowing

The skies will blacken 

Before clearing up

Like my soul. 

On the horizon 

Gathering storm clouds 

Block out the light. 

Sinking

Ever deeper

Into myself.

As the wind howls

Transforming mist

To a soul destroying rain.

Carving channels

Visible to the naked eye

Across my soulscape.

Watching 

In real time

The land disappear

Underneath me.

Tumbling

I struggle to tell 

Up from down 

In this surry.

Time

Becomes meaningless

Beyond the next breath.

Until nothing

Only silence

As I laid awake

In my bed.

Realizing

Had just endured

A night terror.

Author's note: About the 4th day of this, I realized that I had intertwine least 2 different poems. So last night, I deleted all, but the first 3 stanzas. The things that we do for art (like no sleep).

Posted to http://newwhatsgoningon.blogspot.com

 

Merci/Thank You

 On this day, 131 years ago, Canada was formed. Sadly, this birthday has been marred by 440+ forestfires across the vast expanse of this nation. Multiple times, the skies of eastern North America have sootty smokes from the fires burning in NE Ontario and Quebec.

Overwhelming, the local (often volunteer firefighters) and provincial firefighters, as various provincial governments have been forced to ask for military assistance, in fighting the and evacuating the  remote threatened communities.

Even still, over 220+ fires burn out of control. I fear that this number would be much higher and far deadlier, without the global support that Canada has received. From our Commonwealth sisters (South Africa, New Zealand and Australia),  European Union (France, Portugal and Spain), the United States (federal and state level) and the Americas (Brazil, Costa Rica, Chile and Mexico).

Please forgive me, if I have forgotten any country's assistance. 

For this, I give everyone helping my country, a heartfelt thank you/merci. Knowing, in the past that Canada has shared its resources, globally, in fighting other country's forest/bush fires.

A Whispering Of Hope (March 8, 2023)

All good stories

Begin with

Once upon a time....

Where our dreams Are

Like faerie tales

Given breath

To life.

Acts of revelation

Of hope and protest

Made flesh.

In a world

Filled with hate

And ignorance.

Where hope is

A fragile butterfly

Fluttering against

Furious winds.

And yet

We fight.

Knowing

Real change

Is generations

Away.

Author's note: Written for International Woman's Day 2023.

February Reflections (February 27, 2020)

Wish we didn't need

A month for Black History

Or the LGBTQ+ community.

Observing

Throughout the year

Sober vigil days

Against the horrors

Committed against humanity:

January 27th

Holocaust Remembrance Day.

November 20th

Day of Transgender Remembrance.

Remembering/honouring

Those people killed/tortured

For being different.

Except we've forgotten

Human rights struggle

Never ends.

Segregating

Arbitrary based reasons

Defining one's value

By race religion sexual

Or gender orientation.

In demonizing people 

Justifying barbaric inhumane

Acts of hate

Through crimes of power.

I say this

Having personally experienced

How hate and intolerance

Scars one's soul.

To the point

One’s fight for life

Becomes a race

To the death.

Using self-harming

And self-medicating

As a means

To numb the pain.

Your soul dies

With each day lived

Until suicide appears

The only solution.

Whether 

By direct means

Like an O/D.

Or having someone else

Pulling the trigger

On your life.

Something

I have endured

For the past 45 years

Of my life.

As my tears fall

Proof of my witnessing

Those who have suffered.

Hoping

Next year

The pain will end.

Therisa © 2020  

Not Another Read-through (Febraury 20, 2020)

It’s the month of fevers

People are looking for dreams

To hitch their wagons to.

In breaking

With the past

That burns arounds them

Filling their souls

With toxic exhaust.

To do otherwise

Is suicidal

Spiritually and physically.

Can’t stop the tears

Which flow down

At the chances

We’ve squandered.

Have seen the future

That awaits us

Horror filled nightmares

No one escapes.

Why adults are

Silencing children

With their voice of truth

For the choices needed?

Hiding behind

Petro-dollars bought

And paid for

Politicians and legal system.

As we watch

The nightly news

Countries burn away

Before our eyes.

Can’t stop

It’s our extinction

We’re driviing to.

Like frogs

In a pot

Of boiling water.

Therisa © 2020

Author’s note: A poetic tempo experiment. And yes, I had the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Can’t Stop, as an earwig, while writing this.

The Crater (November 3, 2015)

Sorry

I offend you

In my attempt

Uniting body and soul

As one.

Seeking

An inner truth

Denied to those

Who are born

In the wrong body.

Travelling through

Various minefields

And battlegrounds

You’ve strewed

Around us.

In your fears

And ignorance

Of what

You don’t understand.

Leaving behind

Too many people

Abandoned 

In pain.

Struggling

To crawl out

This toxic landscape

Into the warmth

Of the light.

Without leaving behind

Another stat

To be mourned

On November 20th

Day of Transgender Remembrance.

Therisa © 2015 and 2020   

Author’s note: I had forgotten that I had written this, almost 4 1/2 years ago. Looking back, I was so naive, in my thinking that things couldn’t get worse, for the transcommunity, but it has. Just hope that Trump isn’t elected for another 4 year term, as President of the United States.

No Turning Back (February 1, 2020)

Go ahead

Walk away

From me.

Abandoned

In my time

Of need.

Starting

My biggest journey

Without you.

Freeing myself

From the hate

You call love.

Wiping away

Tears of shame

I've held close.

Displaying the bruises

You left behind

On me.

Won't come back

Blaming myself

For your violence.

Oh no

Those days

Are long gone.

For I'm a survivor

Who has escaped

Hell's Inferno.

As your hooks

Bounce off

My heart.

Discarded rubble

Grounded into dust

Under my heels.

Walking away

Living my life

In peace.

Therisa © 2020  

Author’s note: Alas, the editing was, the easiest part of writing this very personal

poem, as I’m a survivor of long term abuse, from several family members. Who, I have cut off all contact with my last abuser, November 2015. The mental and emotional pain wasn't justified, in spending time with them.

Written for Earthweal’s weekly prompt: Renewal.

Just Like A Prayer (January 30, 2020)

Chaos

Inner journey

Of self-enlightenment.

Order

Knowledge

And wisdom restored.

True healing

Accepting

One's limitations.

Building foundations

Holistically strong

Weathering life's storms.

Unburdening

The darkness

That once owned you.

Regardless

What others think

As the Holy Truth.

Through lens

Warping reality

To their beliefs.

As you shine

With love and honour

For all - to see.

Therisa © 2020  

Author’s note: Took 45 minutes to write and 3 days to edit, properly. Sheesh.

Written for Earthweal’s weekly prompt: Renewal.

Keeping The Dream Alive (January 21, 2020)

My eyes turn southwards

To the United States

As the tears flow

Upon learning

The latest news

Of a sister's death.

Forcing my anger down

Knowing another hate crime

Won't be solved

By the local police.

As I wonder

Why African-Americans

Aren't crying out

At the injustice done

To their Trans sisters. 

Given Black Lives Matter

Vocal protests

Against "white society" treatment

Of the "black minority."

Was the 1968 death

Of Rev Martin Luther King Jr

In Memphis, Tennessee

The death knell

For the African-American

Civil Rights Movement?

Turning inwards

In mourning

Over the rising

Vietnam War death toll

And other societal injustices.

Turning aside

Rev King's message

Of love and hope

Into apathy and despair.

Shamefully

The LGBTQ+ community

Hasn't done any better

Supporting trans African-Americans

Or acknowledging this crisis.

Often

Transcommunity is thrown 

Under the bus

Greasing the wheels of progress 

Advancing Gay/Lesbian rights.

Sparking the formation

And first observation

Day of Transgender Remembrance 

In November 20, 1999.

Crossing racial lines

In Boston, Massachusetts

And San Francisco, California

Honouring Rita Hester's life.

Bearing fruit

To Rev King's 1963 speech

That his "dream" is possible

And still alive. 

Therisa © 2020   

Author’s note: I started writing this poem, in anger, given the growing problem for my African-American transsisters. As the poem progressed, I found myself, in a place where dreams are, the fragile thing that makes hope, come alive.

In today’s newsfeed, I found this article about Caitlyn Jenner. Personally, the only thing in common, we have, is we’re both transgender. Here’s the link :https://www.lgbtqnation.com/2020/01/caitlyn-jenner-calls-solidarity-among-women-end-violence-trans-women-color/?utm_source=LGBTQ+Nation+Subscribers&utm_campaign=84ec567c4d-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2020_01_21_05_15&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_c4eab596bd-84ec567c4d-43183618336183