Tuesday, 19 November 2019

DoTR: Building Hope (November 19, 2019)

We gather
On November 20th
Day of Transgender Remembrance.

Through the darkness
Candles are lit
Naming our murdered
Brothers and sisters.

But realistically knowing
The killings won't stop
Until society's attitude changes.

Treating everyone
With respect and dignity.

Of gender identification
And ethnicity.

Call me
A delusional dreamer
For believing this.

In leaving ignorance
And prejudices behind.

Therisa © 2019

Remembering Of Our 2 Spirited Siblings (November 18, 2019)

You speak 
Sins of the Fathers
Visited upon children
In the name of righteousness.

And cultures destroyed
By moral crusades
For your "God"
Of love and compassion.

Unrepentantly justified
Religious belief
Bringing civilization
To these heathen savages.

Of unmarked
Abandoned mass graves
In isolated residential schools
Throughout the north.

Into the present
As entire communities
Struggle for survival
And identify.

Tears I shed
For our Indigenous
Brothers and sisters
Denied their birthright
By Western society.

As they fight
Long and hard
To reclaim
What was stolen.

Of lost lives
We'll never know
Their name
To properly honour them.

As we remember
Our murdered siblings.

Of skin colour 
And religious beliefs
On November 20th
Day of Transgender Remembrance.

May their souls
Find peace
So long denied
In life.

Therisa © 2019 

Author’s note: Remembering our Indigenous brothers and sisters, who have for too long been tossed away, left to deal with the fall out of the colonization of their culture and religious beliefs.

November Blues (November 7, 2019)

November 13, 2019
Fourteenth anniversary
Of my rebirth
As Therisa.

I could say
It's a pain-free procedure
For everyone involved.

These scars are
Open seeping wounds
That'll never heal.

Uncomfortable acknowledging
My changed status
From son to daughter.

She doesn't write
In cards sent.

Never admit
Fear rules her
When I see her eyes.

Or excuses made
Mall shopping
Is suggested.

Not asking her
To accompany me
Buying lingerie.

A winter coat
Or jeans.

Given mom's age
Of 80 years old.

Can't wait
Holding my life
In a stalling pattern.

Wasting time
On an off chance
She'll change
Her mind.

What should be
My happiest day
Is my saddest.

Therisa © 2019  

Author’s note: Relationships are a two way street. Unfortunately, my mom can’t meet me in the middle.

Homeward Bound (November 4, 2019)

Am travelling
My last kilometer
Before resting
This weary body
I call my own.

Of the hate
And prejudices
I have experienced
Hangs around my neck
Like a millstone.

Where life is
Quickly forgotten
Like tossed litter.

And yet
People are obvious
To the mounting carnage.

Eugenic horrors
That spread 
Across the land
Like dandelion seeds
On the prevailing winds.

Out of sight
Out of mind.

Numbness grows
Filling one's soul
With a political cancer
Consuming all
By its presence.

Hands reaches out
For support
That never existed.

In my mind.

For the door handle
With a last grasp
Born of desperation
And mediocrity.

Seeking the sanctity
Of the place
I call home
To heal and restore
My sanity.

Silence awaits
When the door opens
Embracing me
In its protection.

Ending this sojourn
In the madness
Called reality.

Therisa © 2019  

Author’s note: How the United States looks, as an outsider, looking inwards.

Still Standing (October 29, 2019)

Walls collapse
As days grow
Colder and darker.

Drowning out
Whatever words
From tears
Falling above.

Overflowing riverbeds
Of my soulscape
Emotionally charged floodplains
Pulling me - further apart.

Soul cries out
Only response
Heard back.

Bleak memories
Crawl forth
Into dimming light
That surrounds me.

A personal Hell
Most don't understand
Fall from grace.

Where everything is
Soul destroying
'Til nothing exist
But ash.

And yet
Among this debris
Solitary spark emerges
Shining brightly
A phoenix reborn.

Spreading wings
Flexing untried muscles
Like a fledgling 
For the first time.

Taking tentative steps
Unsure of themself
Fighting the darkness
Clinging to the soul.

Final moment
Draws nigh
When the phoenix
Takes flight.

Leaving behind
Past life's toxicity
Full of doubts
And hurting.

Each pumping wingbeat
Climbing higher
Into the nighttime sky
And freedom.

As the toxic
Swirling dust eddies
Settle down.

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: What it felt like, to come out of the gender closet, and the struggles that I faced. And no, I'm not a big fan of Elton John, but the title of this song seemed approximate for me.

A Broken House (October 23, 2019)

How do I say this
Without being rude
Struggling to control emotions.

You'll never understand
Forces driving me.

Little things
So long denied
Become flash points
As the hurt grows.

Explode like grenades
Lacerating our hearts
With bitter fragments
That never heal.

Simple acts
Have become political
Without thinking
Of consequences.

For us
In raw anger
And hurt.

As our souls
Bleed out
For everyone
To see.

Therisa © 2019  

Author’s note: We have all been here, with a relationship or two.

Game Over, Man (October 22, 2019)

How do I describe
The anger and tears
That fills my soul
Every day.

Being waged
In the false name
Of religious equality.

Where outright hatred
Is the new "golden rule"
How we live our lives
In today's world.

As we hide
Behind ignorance
And unsupported fears
Against society's evolution.

Becomes right
In denying sanctity
Over our bodies.

Where all life
Is sacred
If you follow
This belief.

White straight Christian
Cisgender men
Knows what's best
For our nations.

Never mind
They're a dying species
Like North American

Or their philosophy
Places society's most vulnerable
At greater risk
For death.

Our way forward
Hope and faith
That change will happen.

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: Railing against the lack of control that American women have over their bodies. Being pro-choice, doesn’t mean every American woman will have an abortion. Rather, just of the many choices that they have available to them, should they choose this decision.

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