Saturday 28 December 2019

Heavy Heart (December 27, 2019)

With a sad heart
I write this.

As one
Of Toronto's voices
For transgender advocacy
Is forever silenced.

On Sunday
December 22, 2019
Julie Berman (1968-2019)
Was murdered
By blunt force trauma
To her head.

Although
I've never met her
Still I grieve her death.

Toronto seems
Less safer
Since reading this.

Even though
Police have charged
A 29 year old man
With second-degree murder.

As we honour
The memories 
Of those stolen
By violence
From us.

For another year
On November 20th
Day of Transgender Remembrance.

Rest in peace
Julie.

Your fallen torch 
Shall be picked up
By new hands
Carrying it forward. 

Therisa © 2019  

Author’s note: https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/julie-berman-toronto-trans-dead-1.5409429

I know, it's not of my better poems, but I needed to share.

Complicated (December 27, 2019)


I sit
On the bed's edge
Soulsearchin'
For that missing part
Deep within.

Clasping my face
Tears flow
Into darkness.

Personally
Held Satan's hand
A broken wretch
Before His feet.

Seeking guidance
After cast aside
Damned to Hell
By God's followers.

In sharing
My truth.

Told - have to pay
For my "cure"
By a family member.

When I sought love
And support.

Finding only
Ignorance and fear
In return.

Having played
By the rules
You've set.

Costing me 
My everyday life
And mental health.

Struggling
To rebuild myself
In my own image.

Never sure
If I'm reading
The proper manual.

Forced to improvise
What it means
To be female.

In these transitional times
I find myself
Living in.

Therisa © 2019 

Seasonal Blahs (December 22, 2019)

Damn it!

Crying jags
Already worsening
My depressed state.

Spontaneous tears
At the slightest of things.

Like a dam bursting
On a heavy spring melt
Swollen river
Without warning.

Destroying all
With its torrential current
Flooding nearby land.

Cutting out
From underneath me
What limited support
I've left.

Floundering
To keep my head
Above the frigid water
As my body threatens
To shut down.

Knowing
All too well
What repercussions
Await me.

Shall I fail
And surrender
To fate.

Witnessed
By the passage
Of bloated carcasses
In the raging river
Around me.

Therisa © 2019  

In Dangerous Times (December 18, 2019)

Six months ago
We celebrated
Stonewall Riots'
Fiftieth anniversary.

Now
Anger and fear
Replace jubilation.

President Trump strips
Medical and legal protections
Targetting LGBTQ+ communities.

In Canada
We've a saying
If the US sneezes
Canada catches a cold.

Not this bleeping time
If I can help it.

We've fought
Too hard and long
For our rights.

Paid in full
As witnessed
Through murders
And suicides.

Still we must fight
Kicking at the darkness
'Til it bleeds daylight*
Defending our rights.

Turning anger
Into love
With our Pride parades
For those - with hate.

Nothing
Is ever given
Without a price
Or a struggle.

Our mental
And physical scars
Form a road map.

Of our journey
To acceptance
And healing
That never ends.

Therisa © 2019  

Author's note: 

*Thank you, Bruce Cockburn, for writing these lyric, from your song, Lovers In Dangerous Times, which Toronto's own, the BareNakedLadies have covered. 

It has been a long journey, to complete this poem, over the past 3 months. During this period, I've struggled with serious bouts of depression and writer's block. For my American LGBTQ+ cousins, I hope Trump is removed from office, sooner than later, in a manner that stops, this witch hunt garbage. So the healing can begin. Although, I fear that it'll take decades, to undo the damage already done.

Forbidden Knowledge (December 16, 2019)


How do I tell you
Am so tired
Of constant lying
Who I am.


Filling my soul
With half-truths
That eat away
At me.


Like drops of acid
Destroying my soulscape
Word by word
From your mouth.


Until
Nothing is left
To grasp on
As my own.


This mortal sin
I have committed
In seeking
Life's meaning.


Knowing
There's no turning back
To where
I've come from.


Damning myself
By existing
For all eternity
In your judging eyes.


Where the cure
Is a price
Worse than death
For my disease.


No matter
How I justify this
On a personal level
To myself.


This mortal sin
I have committed 
In seeking
Life's meaning.


As tears flow
Blinding my eyes
To the ones 
Who matter the most.


Drowning
Within a mælstrom
Of self-loathing
And anger.


A vicious circle
That knows
No end
Until death.


As my body
Lays before you
For that final time
Before eternity.


This mortal sin
In seeking
Life's meaning.


Therisa © 2019


Author's note: There are times, I need to release my inner Gothic child. This is one of those times.
Doesn't help, I had Evanescence's My Immortal, as an earwig, for Sunday and today, in my mind. 

Before you ask, I'm not feeling suicidal, or anywhere need being so. Sometimes, a
poem/song forces its way, on to paper. Only stopping when fully written, regardless of
the quality of the writing.

Just Imagine (December 11, 2019)

We talk
About ending hate
In building bridges
Between communities.

And yet
These deaths
Continue to escalate.

Where the local news'
Lead story
Another senseless shooting
By hate filled fanatics.

Seeking a broader audience
To spew their toxicity
In drawing new martyrs
For their cause.

At what point
Do we stand up
Striking back
With love
To their hate?

Reclaiming
Our neighbourhoods
One block - at a time.

Where neighbours 
Don't live in fear
Of a car's backfiring
Or firecrackers exploding.

Is the death
Of a loved one
By gunfire.

Call me
A dreamer
Wanting to end
This hateful violence.

Maybe
One day
It will.

Until then
Shall mourn
Each lost life
As a family member.

Therisa © 2019

Author's note: My reaction to the hate-based mass shooting, in Jersey City, NJ (December 10, 2019). I had John Lennon's song, Just Imagine, playing in my mind, as I wrote this.

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