Thursday morning thoughts (August 31, 2017)

Gray skies
Fills the morning view.

As if
Someone had forgotten
To tell Mother Nature
It's still summertime.

And not
Autumn.

Although
Next Tuesday
The kids go back
To school.

Are the falling tears
The raindrops
Of nature?

She sheds
Intermixed
With hope and lost
For the coming years.

Drowning us
In a seemingly endless deluge
A wall of water
That falls
Day after day.

Drenched
Like a colony
Of drowned rats
We crawl forward
Towards the tunnel
Of muted light.

Moving blindly
Into the muddle
We call
The future.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: My second new poem that I have written since July 1st.

A Dream Postponed (May 10, 2017)

To some people

I am

A freak.

Who dreams

Of giving birth

To my own children.

But

Can't.

Genetics stopped

That biological clock

At conception.

Without great risk

To myself

Or my developing child

Outside of the womb.

How do I explain

To you

This feeling

Of incompleteness

I have.

In the early days

Of SRS

Of the late 1920's

And early 1930's

Doctors would've transplanted

Female reproductive system

From cadaver donours.

Enabling

My chance

Of a normal pregnancy.

Although

At great cost

Of rejection

For the transplanted organs.

Unlike today

Tissue typing

Wasn't done.

And anti-rejection drugs

Weren't developed

Yet.

As many transwomen died

From the shock

Of organ rejection.

And still

This siren call

Beckons me

Forward.

Of one day

Being able to hold

This bundle of joy

With stem cell research.

Regardless

Whether

We are cis

Or transwomen.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Given my age and medical condition, this remains a dream for me.  

A Small Act Of Defiance (August 16, 2017)

I have travelled

The darkest path

Of one's soul.

Where hope is

A distance shore

Out of reach

To the outstretch hand.

Waking up

And getting dress

Are major achievements

On a daily basis.

Acts

Most people take

For granted.

But

Not for me.

As I sit

Before a library computer

Typing this out.

Struggling against

My fight/flight instinct

To runaway

From here.

To the safety

Of my apartment

With Venus Squeak

And Star.

By surrendering

To that act

Am giving

My anxiety and depression

Another victory

Over my soul.

Forever 

Keeping me

A hostage

To the mental illnesses

I live with

On a daily basis.

So I ask you

Not to make this

A mountain

Out of a mole hole.

Rather

Sit by me

And say

"Good job Therisa".

Nothing more.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Since last November (2016), I have been struggling with my chronic depression, which has refused to leave me, in March. Turning my fall/winter bout of depression, into a 9 month ordeal for me. Over the past weekend, I have started another prose project, which for me, is a huge step forward. Not sure where it will take me, but anywhere is better that staring at a blank screen, like a zombie.

Early morning Thoughts (August 24, 2012)

Am feeling

History's long fingers

Waking my tired soul.

Another night passes

In the wee hours

Of the coming morn.

Where normal people

Are deep

In their REM sleep.

Except me.

It's 3 am

Sitting on my bed

Pouring my soul

Across the digital divide.

Wanting to turn

The impossible

Into the possible.

Where everything isn't

An unstable liquid

Malleable

To the touch.

Fueled by

An overactive

And creative mind.

In leaving

These dark memories

In the past.

Not surfacing

In panic attacks

Or prolonged bouts

Of depression.

Am so tired

Having to take

A regimen of pills

To be "normal".

Achieving

Short term success.

If

At all.

Therisa © 2012

Author's note: Another poem from my poetic morgue. I wrote this, during a time of severe side effects from one of my numerous anti-depressants that I have taken, over the years.