Dark Side Of Hallowe'en (October 27, 2016)

See you

Prancing around

Like it is

A huge joke.

In wearing

Those cheap 

Halloween wigs.

Taking selfies

To post

On your Facebook 

Accounts.

Saddened me

To my soul's core.

I know

You'll never understand

Why I am feeling 

This way.

For you

It's a one time 

Deal.

Hallowe'en.

But

For people

Like myself

It's a lifetime

Commitment.

It's blazing

A different path

That society

Is reluctantly slow

In accepting.

Having experienced

First hand

The darker side

Of humanity

And trans-bashing.

Until like

Those reality shows

On the TV.

Only showing

The lighter side.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Yesterday (October 27, 2016), the local public library branch held a puppet show, for the kids, which, afterwards, three teenagers goofed around, with the wigs and taking selfies. Wanted to say something, but was scared, I would be labelled, as oversensitive, for my reactions to these teens. I know, they meant nothing, but it still hurt.

Beyond The Pale (October 26, 2016) Inbox x

How can you

Be objective

In judging me?

When you don't know

Who I am

Or the experience

I have lived.

And yet

You sit

In absolute judgement

Condemning me

On sight

Alone.

Having never uttered

A single word

To you.

Tell me

Where is

Your impartiality?

To you

I am 

An offending piece

Of human flesh

That's condemned

To Hell.

Why?

For challenging

Your notion

On what gender

And sexuality

Means.

In defiling

What the "Holy Book" says

Is acceptable

For society.

Thing is

I don't believe

In this Book.

Or those

Who wrote it.

Sad part is

Your very actions

Goes against

The holy Book

Itself.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Its interesting, how it's those, who protested the loudest, are the ones, who are guilty of the crime, they claim others are committing against them.And for the record, I have experience this reaction, several times, from total strangers, re-inforcing my feelings, for not following one of the three major religions.

An Autumn Memory (October 24, 2016)

Across

The asphalt canyons

A cold wind blows.

Carrying

With it

A hint of winter

And the coming snow.

As brilliant hued leaves

Of various shapes

And sizes

Release their grip

From trees.

Swirling around

In soft eddies

Before landing

At one's feet.

Like Mother Nature's

Own organic confetti

Littering sidewalks

And streets.

Raking leaves

Into huge piles

By laughing kids

As they jumped onto.

Gleefully

They toss

Giant handful

Into air.

Covering them

Like falling snow.

Before

They stuff

Large paper bags

By the curbside

For pick-up.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: A childhood memory.

A Time Of Healing And Sorrow (October 22, 2016)

one

At least

For the time being

Are the fall rainstorms.

Which

The past 72 hours

Has been nourishing

A land.

Long parched

From a hot

And very humid

Summer.

While

The land cries out

"Thank you".

My soul

Starts to whither

Under these cascading

Droplets.

Reaching out

In desperation

For the golden rays

Of the sun

Upon it.

Knowing

Each passing day

A small part dies

In the growing darkness

Of Fall and Winter.

Awaiting

Spring's arrival

With the longer days

Of light and warmth

Upon my soul.

Until then

Survival

By any means.

As SAD digs

Its ruthless talons

Tainted by

A merciless depression

Into my soul.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: During my first year (1990), at Carleton University, in Ottawa, Ontario, I suffered my first noticeable case of seasonal adjustment disorder (SAD), Starting, in late September and ending, in November, it was constantly raining. In October, it felt like every day, was rainy. Until this past year, I haven't talked about walking, beside the Rideau Canal, and have thoughts about jumping into winterized passage, with about 50 cm of water, at the bottom, from a height of 6 meters. 

Sadly, when I did approach staff for help, at Carleton University, it was dismissed, as me, being homesick, and not SAD, or would later find out, chronic depression. Until 2006, I didn't seek out any help for my silent struggle with mental illness. Since then, I have tried 8 different anti-depressant/anxiety medications, with varying degrees of success. Most of these drugs, I had to stop, as the result of brutal side effects that has forced my own doctor to have me, evaluated by psychiatrists, before prescribing any new med.  

October's Tears (October 21, 2016)

That time

Of the year

Is fast approaching

For me.

When

Personal

And season darkness

Claims me.

As I sink

Into a downward spiral

Of pain and sadness.

Marking

The beginning

Of my SAD season

Until January.

Before

It clears up

Slowly.

Wish

I could say

Death doesn't play

A huge part

In my life.

But

It does.

As the raindrops

From a mid-October storm

Bathe my face

In wetness.

Hiding

The tears

From everyone's

Sight.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: It's 10 days, before Halloween, and the fall rains have started, in part of the Great Lakes basin, stopping, only when the rain turns to snow, some time, in November/December. The 10 days from November 11th (Remembrance Day) to 20th (Day Of Trans-Remembrance), are about the darkness days, of the calendar, for me. With November 15th, being the anniversary date of my dad's death, in 1998. Also, the anniversary date of my self-acceptance of who I am, Therisa, in 2005, As I stood over, my dad's grave, crying, on a very mid-November day, when I realized, an inner true that I have been suppressing, since August 1977, I am female.

Plead For Peace (September 28, 2016)

Am so tired

Of this constant battle

I was wage

On a daily basis.

Just once

I wish You

My Goddess

Could grant me

True peace

For my ravage soul.

So

I may know

What true tranquillity

Is like.

Before

My journey is

Finally over

On this mortal coil.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Written, after another brutal night of broken sleep.

From Meaning, To Reality (October 4, 2016)

Freedom

Is not

Just a word.

But

A human right.

To live your life

Without terror

Or fear.

Go to school

Without being abused

In any form.

To walk

Outside your home

Without being attacked

Or killed.

Sadly

Freedom is

A wishful dream

For many transpeople.

As we gather

On November 20th

To remember those

Who were killed.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This poem was inspired by, the title, of a young adult book, Freedom's Just Another Word, standing in display, at my local library. 

To Wish Impossible Dreams (October 13, 2016)

There are days

Like this

That I feel like

A total fraud.

As if

My very existence

Is an outright lie.

No matter

What I do.

Feeling like

I'm stuck

In those dark 

And violent days

Of my childhood.

Wanting 

To hide away

In the deepest corner

Of my apartment.

Like

The little girl

I feel like

Right now.

Knowing

I don't have

Dad's strong arms

To wrap me

In a supportive hug.

The type

He shared

Freely

Growing up.

Just once

I wish

For one 

Of those hugs.

For my tears 

To flow

Upon his shoulders.

Holding my daemons

Afar

For another day.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This November 15th, will mark the 18th anniversary of my dad's death, from a fatal heart attack, on November 13th. And I find myself, missing him, more than ever, as he tried to encourage me, even though, he didn't understand the needs, I had, as a child, growing up, being ashamed of my need, to be female. 

Retail Therapy (October 12, 2016)

I see you

All decked out

To the "nines".

In your expensive

Brand name

Clothes.

Price tags

Still attached.

Strutting around

Like a gaudy Peacock

To my thrift store/clothing bank

Clothes.

And yet

I wonder.

Are you purchasing

Your happiness

With debit

And credit cards?

While

A crater exist

Within your soul

Yearning

For fulfilment.

As you look down

At people

Like myself.

Like we're gum

On the soles

Of your latest

Air Jordan shoes.

Never seeing

That true wealth

Isn't found

In a department store

Or an auto dealership.

Rather

In one's ability

To share

And help others.

Regardless

Of your needs

And wants.

In bringing joy

And happiness

To them.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For the past 2 weeks, I have been battling, a very nasty flu bug that decided to arrive, a month earlier, than normal, for me. As this is, my third poem, I have written this month. Wish, I could say, all of my symptoms have gone away, but my asthmatic cough and nose bleeds are still hanging around. 

The Razor's Edge (October 7, 2016)

It's a dichotomy

That many

In my community

Must face.

The need 

To be open

And honest

About ourselves.

While

Scared

This need

Will be used

As a weapon.

In breaking down

The stigmas and barriers

In society's views

And attitudes

To the Trans community.

Knowing

Naivete is

The blade of death

That sticks out

Of our exposed backs.

In assuming

People have changed

And old believes (or disbelieves)

No longer 

Exist.

Regardless

What some people

May say

Publicly.

The past

Has shown us

People tend 

To react 

Negatively.

When 

Confronted

With an experience

Outside 

Of their comfort zone.

As fear

And hate

Rule their hearts

And minds.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: If anyone thinks, my last three stanzas are hyperbole, one, only has to read any history book, from the 20th century, to know, I'm right. Especially, how many innocent people were destroyed, during the "Red Scare" of the mid-20th century and the stigma attached, to being LGBT+, which is slowly evaporating.

Storm Front (September 28, 2016)

Can feel it

Eating away

Like a cancerous growth

On my soul.

Its taint growing

Ever darker

With passing day

I breathe.

Each tsunami

Grows larger

In the emotional impact

They have

Upon me.

Slowly

My soul's shoreline

Is being eroded

Under this barrage

Of tears.

Forcing me

To flee

Ever deeper

Inwards

Into my inner shell.

Stopping

One step short

Of the ultimate out.

As my soul

Whither away

Like some strange fruit

On a tree branch.

Awaiting my body

To join it

In embracing Death

For one last time.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: I wrote this poem, during the wee hours of morning, on September 28, 2016, as I struggled with my sleep, after a brutal and very emotional weekend, previously, for the second straight weekend. Not sure, which is worse, the constant lack of sound sleep, or the emotional yo-yoing, I have been experiencing. 

The Long Good-bye (October 3, 2016)

I see 

How you look

At me.

Thinking

I don't noticed

Your scared 

Or nervous look

In your eyes.

Never mind

How your body language

Speaks differently

From the words

You express.

Don't you realize

This dichotomy 

Is hurting me.

As I struggle

With anxiety attacks

Pre- and post-meetings.

Despising 

Your self-lying

For it's hypocritical 

Nature.

In reality

You don't want

To be seen

Around me.

By anyone

Who knows us.

Scared

Of being labelled

The parent

Of a freak.

Go live 

Your isolated life

In the boonies.

Where 

No one knows

About me

And my transitional

Journey.

For I have

My own life

To live

As well.

As a woman

And not

As a man.

Which 

You have

Mistakenly believed

For the past 42 years.

This November

Will mark

The 4th anniversary

Of cutting you

Out of my life

Mom.

A move

Long overdue

By several decades.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note:  Three years ago, in late October, I tried to get my mom, to help me, in the purchase of a new winter jacket, as a combine birthday/Christmas present, for me. As my birthday falls, in February, and we don't see each other, due to the harsh winter conditions, around her rural Ontario home. For almost a week, she avoided responding to my request, until finally, I had enough, over a series of phone calls, laced with f-bombs, I told her, she was no longer, to have anything to do, with me. I didn't listen to any of her returned messages or have called/or written to her, since. Must admit, I feel very guilty, in breaking off, all contact, but she was holding me, in my healing process, and supporting my abusive brother, over me, when forced on the matter.