Ghost Dancing (August 11, 2014)

Among the shadows

My feet move

Crossing the plane

Of life.

 

Shuffling

In and out

The memory stream

With each step taken.

 

Stirring up

Long forgotten sensations

While my body moves

Between consciousness

And the Dream World.

 

Searching for answers

To questions

Never knew

Existed.

 

Seeking guidance

And wisdom

Where chaos

And doubt

Rule my soulscape.

 

To unite

What was whole

Once more.

Therisa © 2014

Author's note: Written, as I suffered, through, a three month bout of agoraphobia, during the summer of 2014.

Who Am I? (June 25, 2016)

Often wonder

When my curiosity

Gets the better of me

What my obit would say

About the person.

Who

I am

To others?

A question

I ask.

Having read

Some of the victims' lives

From the Pulse Massacre

In Orlando, Fl.

Shall I

Be remembered

As a dreamer.

Who dare

To live life

As a woman

Trapped

Within a man's body?

An educator

Who taught society

One person

At a time.

What means

To be

A transsexual

In a transphobic world.

An abuse survivor

Who is turning

Her tortured past

In something creative

And healing

For others.

A person

That others come to

In times of trouble

Who listens

To their burden

Without judgement.

As I struggle

With my own nightmares

That I have bottled up

Inside of me.

Questions

I will never know

The answers

In my lifetime.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before people start thinking, I'm suicidal and about to take my life, please stop, and realize this, my lifespan will be shorter, than my dad's and opa's, due to mental illness and inherited genetic conditions, like diabetes and heart disease. Never mind, most trans-people, in general, have a short life, than the general public. 

Personally, never thought, I would see my 30th birthday, yet alone, to celebrate my 45th one. The Pulse Massacre, in Orlando, Fl, has rocked me, to the core, like my opa's death did, on my 14th birthday, so many years ago. Although, I don't know, any of the victims, they're family, in a way, you wouldn't understand.

The Black Death (June 25, 2016)

Silence.

Do you understand

What this word means

To me?

Beyond

The standard

Dictionary definition.

You'll find

In a book

Or on-line.

In having

The creative part

Of your soul

Amputated.

 

Without warning.

Leaving behind

Those dark

And destructive voices

Of the past.

Rattling around

In your mind.

Undermining

Whatever self-confidence

And self-esteem

You started life

As a child.

Giving greater volume

And clarity

To suicidal ideation.

Normally

Out of tune

And static filled.

As everything

Becomes

A deadly weapon

In your eyes.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: How my black depressions are like, in experiencing them.

The Endless War (June 22, 2016)

On a daily basis

I face

This monster

That threatens

To consume me.

Like a psychic Vampyre

Draining my soul

Of energy and words.

Until

A dry out husk

Remains.

So easy

To surrender.

Accepting

My bitter doom

And "Death".

As I drown

In the flash floods

Of tears

Cascading down

My face.

And yet

Somewhere

Within me.

A part

Refuses

To roll over

And accept this.

Semi-annual cycling

Of light and dark

In my soul.

Its claws dug in

For every single cm²

An all out war

With my emotions

The battleground.

As the decades

Take their toll

Upon me.

I cling to

My inner light

And life

In this furious war.

Where

One wrong move

Is death.

In the truest sense.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Right now, am struggling, to keep my head above the "emotional" waters, as my Summertime depression. is digging its claws, into me. One of my consequences, of my semi-annual depressions, is the sharp drop off, in my ability to write anything. Don't be surprise, if you see one or two poems, in a given month, as a result. And, a lack of visitations, by me, as my concentration levels, tank.

Updating My Social Calendar (June 20, 2016)

Once more

You have come

And embraced me

In your dark arms.

Whether or not

I want it.

As

Sudden showers

Deluge my face

In a constant stream

Of emotional tears.

Catching me

Off guard

At their arrival.

Mentally

I have

A large red circle

On the calendar

For your ETA.

Placing your arrival

Another week

Or so

From now.

Much

To my chagrin.

Knowing

You'll be freeloading

Off of me.

For the next

Several weeks

To months.

If lucky

Will reduce

My waist

By a size

Or two.

For the upcoming

Fall and winter

clothing seasons.

Mustn't forget

Your next visitation

In November.

Lucky me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: The Orlando Massacre, at the Pulse nightclub has triggered, an earlier onset of my Spring/Summer bout of depression. In the past, I have been known to drop, at least, 2 or more dress size, during this period. Wish, I could say, this year's bout of depression will mild, but, with the 10th anniversary of coming out, to my mom and her rejection of me, have the feeling, it will be one of those years, which I am lucky to avoid the blackest of depressions.

Just The Usual (June 20, 2016)

Why

The surprise?

When

I express

The night of ignorance

That covers

The medical community.

With their death of logic

Towards

A trans-person. 

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: The following link list some of the barriers that's faced, by the trans-community.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/health/transgender-health-lancet-study-medical-care-1.3641030

Myself, I have had to deal with transphobic psychiatrist, when I was psychologically assessed, for Ontario Disable Support Program (ODSP), in 2007, and endure misogynistic comments, from my own physician, concern estrogen and a bout of depression, in the past 5 years.

The Middle Child (June 18, 2016)

An abandoned orphan

No one wants

Neither straights

Nor gays.

Left alone

To fend for themselves

Travelling a road

Most perilous.

Is

The trans child.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Most people don't realize, but the trans-community is, the only part of the LGBT community that doesn't deal, with sexuality. Rather, the expression of one's true gender. For this reason, I will never understand, why we're lumped into this gathering. True, a trans-person, fits across the sexual expression spectrum, unlike any other groups does.


In Toronto's downtown, where most of the teaching hospitals are local, there are no dedicate program that teaching interning doctors about transgender medical issues, unless, they have to treat a trans-patient, for the first. My doctor's office, is a satellite clinic, for one of the major Toronto teaching hospitals, and I have lost track, how many times,  I had to educate the intern, about trans medicine, before they can treat my needs.


The title, for this poem, was inspired, by the Parachute Club's song, "Middle Child", which is found on their CD/Album release,  At The Feet Of The Moon (1984). As they were politically active, in the Canadian fight for LGBT+ rights, during the early 1980s.

Blinded By The Logical (June 18, 2016)

With bitter irony

Am write this.

Knowing

It will be lost

On most people.

How (mostly white)

Conservative Christians

Have fought

Tooth and nail

Against Planned Parenthood

And abortions.

In arguing:

"That all life is

Precious."

And yet

Opposed any legislation

Reducing access

To any firearms.

Weapons

Whose sole existence

Is to KILL

Targeted people.

Can someone

Please tell me

How these two

Philosophical outlooks

Don't conflict.

For I am

A trans-lesbian Canadian

Who supports

Gun control laws.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: In the coming week, the United States Senate will be voting on numerous amendments, to its federal gun controls. Like those, aimed at, tightening the loopholes that currently exist, in the automated background software, which allows people, to get firearms, that would never past clearance, in Canada.

Not Begging. Just Explaining (June 17, 2016)

Why are people

So surprised

When they heard

About the transitioning costs

The trans-community faces.

Even

The limited financial support

Only happens

Due to court challenges

After provinces tried

And failed

To delist SRS coverage,

Never mind

The long waiting lists

That grow

With each passing month

For us.

Hoping

We find other means

To cover
Our basic surgeries.

As the provinces

And territorial governments

Rubbing their hands

In financial glee.

At the mere thought

Of removing us

From their welfare rolls

(Either

General welfare

Or disability support programs.)

For any money.

Whether

Generated by

Crowd sourcing

Inheritance

Or a gift.

It's counted

As income

We have available

To support ourselves.

Thus

Clawed back

From our monthly cheques.

The little fuckers.

Never mind

Being on disability

My monthly support cheque

Is half of the income level

Of the Canadian

Poverty line

For a single person.

And that's

With a special allowance

For being diabetic.

Which is

More than 10%

Of the base amount

I receive

Monthly.

Do you

Still think

It's a passing fad

For me?

Given

The financial mountain

I have to climb

Without societal support

Or understanding.

Therisa © 2016

Author note: Many people may not realize, but, if a person, is receiving social assistance, in Canada, they're allowed, a limited amount (determined by their province/territory that they live in), in their bank accounts, before, this is clawed back, too, out of their support cheque. Under Ontario Disability Support Program, I'm allowed to have $6 000, before I am penalized. Never mind, the more money, I can save up, in a bank account, will raise my monthly rent and remove/or limit my rent subsidiary, I get. Never mind, most trans-Canadians live below the poverty line, in Canada, which no one speaks out on.

 A twisted sense of logic, if you ask me.

Below, is a link, that will explain the further hurdles that trans-Canadians face, as part of our transitioning expenses:

https://ca.finance.yahoo.com/blogs/insight/the-surprising-costs-of-transitioning-can-put-some-transgender-people-in-danger-202146371.html

Please Standby, As We Are Experiencing, A Temporary Delay (June 17, 2016)

If home is

Where

Ones heart is.

Then

Mine is

A shattered field

Of glass shards.

Haven't felt like

I belonged

To any place.

Since

I have left

My parents' place

For university

In 1990.

Feeling rootless

Like a tumbleweed

That's blown.

Across
The arid landscape

By a desert wind.

As I made

My nomadic journey

To various eastern

And southern Ontario

Communities.

Searching for

That missing

Something.

On a physical

And psychic level

From my life.

Even now

More than 10 years

Into my journey

Of self-discovery

And healing.

Still

A part of me

Feels missing.

Something vital

In the completion

Of whom

I am.

As I feel it

Rubbing against

My soul

Like a small pebble

In a shoe.

But

Unable to find

And remove

This irritating "pebble".

Leaving me

Stuck

In this moment

Of time.

Therisa © 2016

The Pull Of Darkness (June 16, 2016)

Can feel it

Flowing

Throughout

My body.

Self-doubt.

Questioning

My very sanity

Of the steps

I am taken.

As echoes

Of past abusers

Shout

At deafening levels

In my mind.

With homophobic

And transphobic

Thoughts.

Degrading

My entire life.

As if

It has no value

Worth saving.

And yet

I know

Differently

Without thinking.

To do

Otherwise

Is Death.

Psychically

And physically.

To transition

Is the first

And most important

Step.

Of my holistic

Healing

For my body

And soul.

In breaking

Those strangling chains

Around me.

That almost

Claimed my life

A decade

Ago.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: July 1, 2016, will mark, a decade, since I came out, to my mom, and the final breaking of the abusive hold, she had, over me.

Hate Isn't Religion (June 15, 2016)

Know

The words

Before you

Will anger and inflame

Some readers.

But

I don't fucking

Care.

Too long

We have lived

In a climate of fear

And hate.

As

A cold northwesterly wind

Blows across

The land.

Blinding everyone

In this bitter

Arctic vortex.

Freezing

Their logic centres

To the dangers

We face.

Pumping out

Hatred.

As if

It was well water

To drink up.

Never stopping

To think

About the consequences.

Our words

And actions

Will have

On these people

Less stable.

Until

Too late.

When

The police

Start knocking

On doors.

Informing

The surviving

Love ones.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before anyone goes and start attacking the first Moslem, they see, stop and think about this. Most hate crimes, against the LGBT+ community, in North America, are committed, by white Christian males.

Fitting Justice (June 15, 2016)

Please

Don't mistaken

My passivity

For acceptance

Of the Massacre.

Inside

A maelstrom of anger

And tears.

Threaten

To broil over

On the outside.

I want to punish

Those

Who unleashed

Omar Mateen

As a loaded weapon

On Sunday morning.

For teaching him

To hate himself

And the LGBT+ community

My family.

Knowing

Many straight organizations

And individuals

Must be held

Accountable.

For their words

And actions.

As part

Of the healing process

For everyone.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: In one,  of the free Toronto morning commuter papers, Omar Mateen, was described, as a troubled young man, struggling to accept his homosexuality, with his Islamic upbringing, by his parents. For their actions, his parents have a heavy burden that they owe, to the victims, their family and the LGBT+ community, at large. One doesn't, become a killer, without being trained, to do so.

On The Wings Of A Butterfly (June 15, 2016)

balancesf.com

So easy

To let

My negative emotions

Go.

Like the prevailing wind

Carrying

A coal generation station's

Toxic emissions.

Polluting the land

With my hate

And anger

Downstream.

Destroying all

With my acidic touch.

As I struggle

Against the headwinds

Of hate.

That holds

The world

In its grasp

Today.

Knowing

Within my soul

A gentle breeze stirs.

Like

A butterfly flapping

Its wings.

Giving birth

To a new wind

Of change.

One

Filled with hope

And understanding.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For the past 3 days, I have been struggling, to come to grips, with the Orlando Massacre, emotionally, and as, a LGBT+ person. Knowing, I could have been, another stat, to add to the growing tally of LGBT+ people, who have been killed, for being ourselves.

Not exactly sure, why I choose to the butterfly, as a symbol of change and hope, Other then, it's one of the symbols that the Trans-community has adopted, as its own, for growth and metaphorsis of one's true self.

The Painful Divide (June 14, 2016)

We didn't ask

To born different

From the world.

Just are.

Coming from

All religions

And ethnic groups.

We are

Your sons

And daughters.

With whom

You openly shared

Your love and compassion

Without a second thought

As we grew up.

For some

The knowledge

Of our LGBT+ nature

Was too much.

Rejecting us

As if

We are

Carriers of death

To you.

Please understand

We haven't closed

Our hearts

To you.

Even if

You have closed

Yours.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Since, my accidental outing of myself, to my mom, on July 1, 2006, I have tried several times, to bridge the gap, between us, to no avail. Although, she denies it, fear grips her, as her body language and eyes betrayal her lies, to me. For other members of the LGBT+ community, they are faced, with even more violent reactions, from their parents, in the form of physical attacks and threats of death, should that parent see them, again. To outright shunning of them, as if, they had already died.

Days, I Curse Myself (June 13, 2016)

On days

Like these.

Looking down

At my body

Fills me

With anger

And revulsion.

Wishing

With a simple slice

Of a knife

To change

My genitalia.

Forever.

Removing

The birth defects

Located

Between my legs.

For more years

Then I can remember

Have always

Hoped.

I would find

A magical talisman.

To change me.

Looking everywhere

I walked around

To no avail.

Turning hope

In despair

And depression.

At the thought

Of having

To endure

Another day

In this tainted body.

That society views

As being natural

For me.

Never realizing

The emotional

Physical

Or psychological

Pain.

It causes

Me.

As I hide

The knives

Away.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Having a bad body image day.

Personal Reactions To Orlando, Fl (June 13, 2016)

It sadden me

Having to write this

After the tragic massacre

Of Orlando, Florida.

As

Conflicting emotions

Fill my soul.

Not sure

How I should vent

These strong emotions

In a positive way.

Without

Harming myself

Or other innocents

With their release.

Knowing

I must do so

To start

My own healing.

Although

Not a victim

Of this tragedy

Directly.

Yet

I do feel

So very guilty.

Having survived

My own series
Of violent

Transphobic/homophobic

Encounters.

Wondering

Why I have survived

Where they didn't.

And

Does this guilt

Ever disappear?

A question

I have

No answer

For.

Therisa © 2016

Widening The Crack (June 12, 2016)

This Friday

I did something

That's totally

Out of character.

In opening up

And sharing

My self-harming secret

And the reasons

I harm myself.

Sure

In the past

I have written

And posted poems

About this.

(As I don't

Have to see

The reader's reaction

To my dark truths.)

(Thus

Don't feel like

I'm being judged

By them.)

But

Never shared

With someone

Who wasn't part

Of my healing team.

While

Dropping my shields

Even further.

By sharing

My passive anger

Towards myself.

Which

At times

Broils over.

Wishing

I had died

In November 1974

From the electrical burns

I had suffered

As a child.

Therisa © 2016

 

Author's note: Since January 2, 2014, I have been attending, on an on/off basis, an art program, for people, who have mental illness, and are trying to break through the barriers (stigmas) associated with it. Attending session, on Monday and Friday afternoons, whenever possible, for me. The above poem and breakthrough happened after the June 10th session, with another member, from the program, as we waited together, for the 506 streetcar, to take us, on our way home.

Setting Milestones (June 8, 2016)

This morning

I awoken

To history

Having been made.

South

Of the border.

Third time

In fifty-six years

The Democratic Party

Have nominated  

Candidates.

Who have shattered

Political barriers

Once thought

Unreachable.

In 1960

It began

With John F. Kennedy

The elected Catholic

As US President.

Previously

All American Presidents

Have been

White Protestants.

Once more

The political landscape

Has changed.

In 2008 nomination

And election

Of Barrack Obama

As US President.

Who had

The audacity 

To dare dream.

For the first time

Never seen before

By Afro-Americans.

As Obama's
Second term ends

America's political landscape

Is more divided

Now.

Then

Before.

Evident

In the Republican Party

Nominating Donald Trump

As their Presidential candidate.

While

For the third time

The Democrats

Have made history.

In selecting

Hillary Rodman-Clinton

As the first female

Presidential candidate.

Whether or not

She follows

In the footsteps

Of Kennedy and Obama

Will be answered

This November.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Sorry, for the long delay, in posting this, but, have been dealing with a nasal bug, which has left me, with little energy, for writing or wanting to be around people.

The Lonely Journey (June 8, 2016)

My life is

Not a fad

Like the latest

Reality TV show

On TLC.

Nor

Is it one

That lacks

Inner strength.

Having enduring

Endless rounds

Of conversion therapy

From society.

Free

Of charge.

Bless

Their little

Transphobic

And homophobic hearts.

As I hid

My true self

Deep

Within.

Until

The dormant seed

That is me

Started to bloom.

Bringing forth

An awareness

Whether or not

I want it.

In learning

To listen to

What my heart

And body

Are telling me.

A healing journey

In which

Numerous painful lessons

Have been forced

To confront.

Upon this path

I walk.

Spreading light

And knowledge

In a valley of darkness

And ignorance.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note:  As a child, growing up, I was exposed, to many violent acts, of a physical, verbal and psychological nature. Targeting me, due to my effeminate nature, as a perceived "boy", by society, that many people viewed me, as homosexual. Well, they were partly right, just the wrong gender.

Not Another Word (June 6, 2016)

Generation gap

noun

1. a lack of communication between one generation and another, especially between young people and their parents, brought about by differences of tastes, values, outlook, etc.

source: www.dictionary.com

You don't realize

How tired

I am.

Of hearing

People saying

This.

Who have

Never experienced

Such hatred

Or violence

Against them.

Been more than

Two generations

Since Ms. Jorgesen's

Had her SRS.

And yet

We're still

Making excuses

For these bigots'

Transphobic behaviour.

At what point

Are these intellectual giants

Stopped given

A free pass

For their ignorance based

Hatred?

Does

Another 60 years

Need to pass.

Before

Any real change

Occurs?

As more dead

And injured bodies

Are tossed

To the curbside

By society.

Destroying

Another generation

Of trans-people

In the process.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This year, 64 years ago, that Christine Jorgensen had her SRS preformed, in Norway. Making international headlines, for doing so. And yet, there are no longitudinal studies, on trans-women health, like the W.H.O. did ,on menopausal women, with hormonal replacement therapy, in 2007. Stopping it earlier, due to higher than expected health risks (heart attacks and strokes) among the study cohort. Instead, the medical community is treating trans-women, on the basis, of what menopausal women are reporting, to their doctors.

Given recent studies that find most prescribed medication, isn't tested on women, during the clinical trail stage, women are suffering unexpected side-effects, from these meds.  Just so, the trans-women are being used, as Guinea pigs.

Never mind, no major medical school offers any courses, on trans-medicine. And only, a 2-4 hour seminar, for gay and lesbian health issues.

Attempt At Order (June 6, 2016)

How I wish

I could say

My life has been

All moonbeams

And roses.

And

Those violent experiences

Are mere figments

Of my imagination.

Except

The mental strain

And the damage done

Over the years

Says otherwise.

You must realize

My unique situation

Isn't the norm

For most trans-Canadian.

Rather

Just one

Of the more

Extreme cases

On the violent end

Of the experience

Spectrum.

Please understand

I don't write poetry

In the hope

Of gaining pity.

Or

Other similar

Emotions.

Should

I want them.

Only

Have to look

In the bathroom mirror.

And see

My reflection

Staring back

At me.

No

These stanzas

You see

Before you.

Are my lame attempt

To impose order

On the chaos

I have lived

Through.

Never expecting

Anyone would read these

And respond back

Like they have.

Therisa © 2016

Reality Check Time (June 6, 2016)

Tomorrow

June 6,  2016

Canada won't have

Any law covering

Assisted death.

Given

The flawed bill

That the Liberals

Are pushing

Through Parliament

And the Senate.

Rather

Have none

And get the legislation

Right.

The first time.

Then 

Pay out millions

In legal fees.

For the long

And emotional

Court challenge

That will come.

Those doomsayers

Who are predicting

The end

Of the medical system

In Canada.

I have

One word

For them:

"Bullshit!"

For Canada's courts

Have laid out

The necessary criteria

For these cases

To occur.

While

The various provincial

And territorial colleges

Of physicians

Are developing

Their own guidelines

For their members.

Remember

Everyone.

Just because

You have

A right to control

Your life.

Doesn't mean

It will be used

By those

In extreme pain

Or a terminal condition.

And yes

The only "wild west"

Situation.

Is coming

From those

With a political axe

To grind.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On Friday, June 3, 2016, Canada's Senate started it's third reading of C-14, as the Liberal dominated House of Commons passed the bill, without any major changes, ignoring all opposition proposed changes, to it. While, this was happening, the Alberta Court of Appeal, slammed the federal government, for going against the Carter Decision, by the Supreme Court of Canada, which ruled the current law against assissted death, as unconstitional. For more, on the Alberta ruling, please click, on the following link:

http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/alberta-appeal-court-assisted-dying-c14-1.3587234

Myself, I support the right, to choose, one's moment of death, whether or not, you're suffering from a terminal condition, as the propose law, would only allow. Ignoring the fact, psychairic conditions, can be, just as painful, in affecting the quality of life, of a person.

Being An Alien, In Your Own Home (June 4, 2016)

Although

A Canadian citizen

By birth.

There are times

That I feel

Like a foreigner

In my own country.

Struggle

To understand

The reasons

For this.

As if

My very existence

Is an abomination

To creation.

Too often

I feel unsafe

Upon the streets

Of Toronto.

Having

At various times

Felt my life

Being threaten.

Living

In Brampton, Ontario

(A suburb community

Of Toronto)

And Toronto, Ontario

(Ontario's capital

And Canada's largest city).

Am I

Being justifiably

Paranoid

For feeling

This way?

As the transphobic

Psychiatrist labelled me

In her psych assessment

From December 2007.

Knowing

The next time

Could mean

My death.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For more, on this Ipsos-Yahoo! Canada poll, please click on the link:

 https://ca.news.yahoo.com/experience-bears-out-ipsos-yahoo-canada-poll-on-230426457.html

First Steps (June 4, 2016)

My Dearest

Brothers and Sisters;

These bitter-sweet tears

That you see

Flowing down

My face.

Are

In honour

Of your healing

And the ability

To celebrate

Your true self.

For too long

You have suffered

With the stigma

Of being Aboriginal

And LGBT+.

Of having

Your culture

And heritage

Destroyed.

In the racist belief

By doing so

We're advancing

You.

Casting you

Adrift

Without 

A sense of self-worth

Or self-value.

Something

I can relate to

All too well.

As

I struggle

With the same fight.

Please accept

These words

I offer.

As a sign

That true healing

Can begin

For all of us.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: As Attawapiskat, the northern Ontario community, has been struggling with mass suicide attempts, among its population, I felt, the need to share, this positive healing article, with the world. To read this article, please click on the link:

https://ca.news.yahoo.com/saskatchewan-first-nation-group-to-host-two-spirit-192026190.html

A Forged Past (June 4, 2016)

A sad sigh

Is gently released

Through clenched lips.

As my mind wanders

Down memory lane

With the numerous albums

Filled thousands of photos

Of me.

Documenting

Thirty-five years

Of living

A horrendous lie.

My mom

Has taken

Of me.

Just like

My old cub handbook

And anything else

That reeks

Of this falsehood.

I want them

All burnt.

Honestly

These objects

Only matter

To one person.

My mom.

To her

As witnessed

By her actions

And body language.

I have

Already died

On July 1, 2006.

Why keep

These fraudulent images

For many

She has stalked me.

With the camera

Like a tiger does

To its prey.

Knowing

My countless requests

Not to.

And deep animosity

Towards

Having my photo

Being taken.

Not

That she

Ever listened

To me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: My mom and I have had numerous fights, over her taking my photo, without my permission, over the years. To the point, I have deliberately gone out of my way, to spoil any chance photo, she might take of me. Just one more case, of her, not respecting the boundaries, I set up, for myself, with her.

Surviving The Kiln (June 3, 2016)

"It survived"

To paraphrase

The line

From Frankenstein

Movies.

As my "crater project"

Escapes

The kiln

Unbroken.

A major worry

Given

The deep fissures

That pockmark

The piece.

In releasing

A huge sigh

Of relief

From my held

breathe.

Thus

Able to move on

With the next stages

Towards completion.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On May 27, 2016, "the crater" was loaded, on the bottom of the kiln, due to the fear that it might shatter, during the first firing. Although, I was absent, when it was removed from the kiln, on May 30th, it miraculously survived, the first firing, and have since started to apply the various coloured glazes. 

Thanks, But No Thanks (June 3, 2016)

egend has it

At the end

Of the rainbow

We'll find

A pot of gold.

And yet

For many trans-people

The rainbow flag

Is a sign

Of oppression.

As

We're left behind

To scratch

Tooth and nail

For the most part.

By an indifferent

Gay and lesbian community

Who have won

Their legal rights

Already.

This is why

With a clear conscious

I'll have nothing

To do.

With Toronto's

Pride celebrations.

Devolving

Into an excuse

For hedonistic parties

Supporting corporate sponsors.

Forgetting

The true roots

Of Pride's existence:

To protect

Against injustice

And inequality.

Is it

Any wonder

Many trans-people

Have elected

To go stealth.

Instead of

Remaining visible

And fighting

The system.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This year marks the 35th year of Toronto, having Pride marches, which started, as a protest march, against the indiscriminate police raids, of gay bath houses. Over the years, it has grown, to include, the lesbian and trans-community, whether or not, the gay community want it.

Glossary of terms 

Stealth: going underground, denying your trans' roots, when you're totally passable, in your preferred gender.

Throwaway People (June 3, 2015)

In my community

Where poverty is

The way of life

For too many.

We struggle

To hold hope

Within our heart

On a daily basis.

Fighting

Against the urge

To become

Another drug town.

In seeking

An avenue

Of escape

In whatever form

Available.

Where

Death is found

A penny

For a dozen souls.

Regardless

Of race

Or gender.

In numbing

Our senses

Against

The brutal grind

Of daily life.

As the mentally ill

Are found

In the discount bins

Of the local Wal-Mart.

Abandoned

And forgotten

By society

Like yesterday's DVDs.

Only

To be tossed

In the local

Landfill.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: The above protest poem was created, from this word bank: community, hope, poverty, drug town, and Wal-Mart.

For the record, I live, in one of thirteen "priority neighbourhoods", in the city of Toronto, that lacks basic infrastructure, which a modern community needs, to sustain, the development of a healthy population. Where, the local supermarket, is nothing more, than a convenience store.


Due to budget cuts, over the past decade, in Ontario, the mental health programs have declined to the point, long term programs are being eliminated and replaced, with short to medium term ones. With the added burden of long waiting lists, to those long term programs that still exist. Literally, a penny-wise, and a pound foolish, as the old saying goes. 

Eulogy For A Soul Regain (June 2, 2016)

Death

From living

A lie.

At 35 years

8 months

And 13 days

On November 15th.

For one

T------ A----- G-------.

Upon marking

The seventh anniversary

Of his father's death

In November 1998

Over his grave.

Selflessly

He placed

The need of others

Before his own.

Battling undiagnosed

Mental illness

For most of his life.

In spite of

His silent tears

Kept those

Around him

Smiling.

Overcoming

Various learning disabilities

Turned his doubters

Into believers.

With his B.A.

From Carleton University

In 1994.

Filling his dad

With unexpressed

Pride.

Please

I ask you.

"Wipe away

Those tears

From your eyes

And rejoice."

From this death

Comes forth

A new life.

With love

And renewed hope

For the future.

Where

None existed

Before.

For I am standing

Before you

Like the Phoenix

Who has risen

From death's ashes.

Spreading my wings

Wide and far

As I soar

On life's thermals.

Therisa © 2016


Author's note: It was November 15, 2005, when I realized my true self, as I stood over, my dad's grave, crying uncontrollably, for 5 minutes. This day will forever, be edged, in my memory, for the unusually very mild weather, we're experiencing that November. On this particular day, it was a mild mist that cover the greater Toronto area, instead of, the usually bitter cold blowing winds, and temperatures, just hovering about 0 C.


In August 1977, I hid away Therisa, to protect her, for the transphobic and general abuse, I was experiencing, as a part of my daily life, living in, a small rural Ontario village. For the next 28 years, she remain thus, until this fateful day, in 2005.

Potty Talk (June 2, 2016)

Although

Have the legal right

To enter and use

A woman's washroom

In Ontario.

It's one

Am leery

To use.

Fearful

Of a transphobic

Reaction

By the other users.

Even though

No one has

Ever complained

About me

Doing so.

And yet

The fear

Remains.

As for

Those transphobic bigots

Who bring up

The old red herring

Of us

Being sexual voyeurs.

Seeking

A cheap frill

For seeing exposed

Women and children.

To them

I say:

"Get

      A

        Fucking

     Life

Losers."

Loves

All of the perverts

Who been caught

Are cis-males.

And I

Repeat.

Am
Not one.


Just
A pre-op
Trans-woman
Finding her.

My only request

To you.

Could you

In the future

Please be

More creative

In your transphobic

Opposition?

Am

So tired

And bored

Of your current

Standard lines.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For the first time, Canada has declared, the month of June, as "Pride Month", in support of the LGBT+ community, as the rainbow flag flies, on Parliament Hill, besides the Canadian flag. In Toronto, Pride celebrations have been extended from the usual 10 days, to the entire month of June, as well. A move, to cash in, on the tourists that Pride events draws, here. Ok, call me, a cynic, on this one.

The following link, is from Yahoo! Canada, and the series of daily articles, on Canada's LGBT+ community and the issues that we're facing. Here, are the past two day articles:

https://ca.news.yahoo.com/canadians-have-little-interest-in-battling-over-104328087.html

https://ca.news.yahoo.com/the-bathroom-and-how-it-has-become-an-unlikely-231817790.html