Wednesday 28 November 2018

Summer Of '85: A Season In Hell (August 25, 2012)

Warning: This Poem Contains Abusive Violent Triggers. Read at your own risk.

You raped my soul
Caring not
About the carnage
Left behind you.

As your blows
Rained down
Upon me.

Using whatever
At hand.

It’s physical
Or verbal jabs.

Even now
Decades later
Am haunted
In my dreams.

Visions of booted foot kicking
Or kitchen chair used
As a club
Upon my body.

In fetal position.

Never mind
Those times
Your hands pushed me
Down stairs.

Filling my mind's eye
With terror
Reliving my fifteenth summer.

You walked away
As I punish myself.

Not strong enough
To stop you
Baby brother
And protect mom.

May you rot
Worse spot
Than I’ve live in.

Therisa © 2012

Author’s note: Except for clean up of form, nothing has changed in this poem. Am having trouble
reading this,without being triggered, again.

The Hills Are Alive With Music (November 27, 2018)

As a child
I fell in love
With musicals.

Often singing
Certain songs
From my favourites
The classics
Of this art form.

Like “America” or “Tonight”
From Westside Story
To “I’m Going To Wash That Man,
Right Out Of My Hair”
From South Pacific.

I know I know
My Hetero Male Club membership
Is seriously endanger
Of being revoked.

And yes
I was kicked out.

My butt
Still has the imprint
Of the shoe
That booted me.

Bet these songs
Spoke to me
In a way
I can’t describe.

Found myself
Sighing and laughing
With female lead
Throughout the movie.

Movies like
The Star Wars
Or the Rocky franchises
Left me
Feeling blah.

Learning the hard way
Keeping quiet
About musicals.

Who love musicals
Society views
As homosexual.

And I’m not
A gay male.

A lesbian trapped
In this male body
(Having realizing
My true form).

Thank you
Very much.

It all started
With a babysister
Playing Grease soundtrack
On dad’s turntable.

Therisa © 2018

Author’s Note: Am still, in recovery mode, after last weekend emotional PTSD flashback
with anxiety/panic attacks. Honestly, I just want to hide and let the tears flow, into nearby
Lake Ontario. Even this poem, semi-upbeat, is triggering me, as I work to finish this note.

To distract myself, I have compiled a list of movies, for various reasons, mean something to
me, personal. Please forgive me, as I, only list these movies, today. Am, in the beginning of
an emotional breakdown and just want to hide. These movies are listed, in no particular
order or reason. This is a faction of the movies that I would love to share.

The Philadelphia Story (1940): Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and Jimmy Stewart.
The basis for the musical, High Society, starring Bing Crosby.

Bringing Up Baby (1938): Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. A screwball comedy
deemed a failure, but now viewed, as a classic.

Little Women (1933): Katharine Hepburn, Joan Bennett, and Paul Lukas. Based upon
Louisa May Alcott’s book, of the same name.

Adam’s Rib (1949): Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn and Judy Holiday. Start of
the 25 year relationship between Tracy and Hepburn, on and offscreen for the two
of them.

A Night At The Opera (1935): The first Marx Brothers movie without Zippo.
Their best movie made.

Dr Zhivago (1965): Directed by David Lean. With Omar Sharif, Julie Christie, Geraldine
Chaplin, Rod Steiger. Based on the Boris Pasternak’s novel of the same time title. The
film ruin the novel and accompanying original poetry, Pasternak wrote.

How Green Was My Valley? (1941): Based on the fictional novel, written by Richard
Llewellyn. Starring Walter Pidgeon, Maureen O'Hara, and Anna Lee. Having read
the novel and seen the movie several time, it’s a faithful adaptation. Come prepare
with a box or two of tissues for tears.

Mrs Miniver (1942): Starring Greer Garson, Walter Pidgeon, and Teresa Wright. A
tearjerker about the early months of WWII, for a British family. Another box or two,
of tissues will be needed here.

Westside Story (1961): Directed by Jerome Robbins and Robert Wise. Starring
Rita Moreno, Natalie Wood, George Chakiris, and Richard Beymer. Shakespeare’s
play, Romeo and Juliet is updated and set in New York City. What I love about this
movie, is the songs and dances don’t feel forced to the viewer, and are totally
memorable years later.

Tuesday 20 November 2018

My Emotional Days (November 20, 2018)

It's November 20th
Is possibly
Third hardest emotional day
On the calendar
After July 1st
And November 15th.

July 1, 2006 (Canada Day)
Outed myself
To mom.

Let's just say
My apartment was
Slightly warmer
Than Antarctica winter storm
From her reaction.

As I tailspinned
Into month long bout
Of suicidal depression
That almost cost me

And November 15th
Symbolic day
For death and rebirth
Spiritually and physically.

November 15, 1998
Around 9:50 pm
Dad was declared dead
Surviving almost 36 hours
Without life support.

Two days prior
He suffered
A fatal heart attack.

Revived by paramedics
He was brain dead.

Seven years later
Unseasonably warm
November day.

Standing over dad's grave
Broke down and cried
In admitting my true self
A transgender woman
Therisa was reborn.


And now
Day of Transgender

I'll hear names
Of people
That I know.

My own brushes
With death
By other people.

Therisa © 2018

My Birthday Present To You (November 19, 2018)

Thank you
New and old friends
Brightening up
Journey of self-discovery/healing.

Celebrating 13th birthday
On November 15th
Twentieth anniversary
Dad's merciful release
From suffering.

Coming out
Being honest
To myself.

Never realizing
Full impact
On my life.

Old wounds
Long suppressed
Emerging-needing confrontation
Before moving on.

Gentle shoulders
Given without asking
Those dark days
Seem overwhelming.

Flashback echoes
Verbal/physical violence
Another lifetime plays
In mind’s eye.

Suicidal attempts
Part of life
Suffering in silent.

Even now
Thoughts are there
The impulse isn't.

Using written words
As medication
For chronic depression/anxiety

Laying bare
My subconscious
To the healing light.

After long years
In isolated darkness.

Task made easier
With your kind words
And support.

Therisa © 2018

Author’s note: I like to give a shout out, to the latest person, Lona Gynt, who bravery and courage, shared part of herself, with me. Thank you, Lona. Not sure, if I would have done that.

Tainted Harvest (October 30, 2018)

Sticks and stones
May break my bones
But names
Will never hurt me.

Old English speaking saying

I wish true
But isn't.

Many people carry
Distance echoes
Toxic slurs
Scarring souls.

Elusive poison
Never truly neutralize.

Educational programs
Or money spent.

Hate inspired actions
Society’s fringed elements
Through spoken/written words
Selected targets.

Crossing boundaries
Political religious sexual
Or gender orientation
And ethnicity.

We're all targets.

Hate-physical energy
Can taste/feel
With all senses
Leaving tears behind
Asking why.

Shrouded bodies
Permanently removed
From life.

Falling back
Upon tired cliche
“Never again.”

What point
Do we realize
Lipserve isn't enough.

Forgotten numerous times
Words spoken
At memorials funerals
And public inquiries.

Wiping away
Frustrated tears
People killed
Too soon.

Cycle renews itself.

Therisa © 2018

Author’s note: How many more people must die, before governments and NGOs (NRA) take concrete action, to end this horrific slaughter of innocent people. Do we need another Holocaust, before serious attention is given to this? Heavens help us, if this needs to occur.

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