International Women's Day 2019 (March 8, 2019)

Darkest space

Does this come from

Where light is

A hidden banked fire

Within one's soul.

Struggling for acceptance

In a binary world

Refusing to acknowledge

Changing landscape

We delve in.

Where change is

Constant reminder

Of how little

We've advance

Since World War II.

Outdated siloed beliefs

Modern political diktat

Silencing real discussion

Of any lasting future.

Seen

Yet invisible

To the naked eye.

Enforced desperation

Death's beacon call

On multiple levels

Of daily life.

As the unthinkable

Becomes reality

For an ever

Growing number.

Locked away

In the battle

Between the new

And old world.

Never belonging

In either/or place.

Just is.

Therisa © 2019

Author's note: Not exactly sure, how this poem should read, by the reader. As each time, I've read it, I get a different interpretation.

Daydream Believer (February 27, 2019)

It was a different place

From the small rural village

That I live in

At the time.

Magical make-believe world

Where music and humour

From another time

Opened my eyes.

Laughing and crying

At the zany impossible plots

Of every episode

Singing to the songs.

Never grasping

Cynical commercial crastness

That played upon

My naive innocence

As a young child.

Racing home

After the final bell had rung

Marking school's end

And tv's time starts.

Rightly or wrongly

Television was viewed

By a different lense

In the latter half

Of the 1970s

From today's standards.

Engaging

This fantasy realm

Where dreams are born

In a tinkling of an eye

And opening notes

Of a song.

Forever faded

Into childhood nostalgia

Sugarcoating reality

With a fondness

Never to be repeated.

Long after

The dreamer has awoken

And forced to faced

Reality's ugly truth.

Life goes on.

Therisa © 2019

Author's note: Goodbye, Peter Tork. Thank you, for the childhood memories.

Where Is The Love? (February 9, 2019)

Have you ever

Looked at yourself

In the mirror

Without self-hatred

Or self-loathing?

That you're a freak

Or a monster

From the messages

Society sends.

Feeling like

Your only recourse

Is self-harming.

In small steps

By self-medicating

With alcohol or illegal drugs

Until they control you.

Else

Have complicated

Physically attacking

Your body.

Covering various parts

In scar tissue.

Until your pain

Reaches a level

Only death

Can smooth.

As blood red tears

Stream out

Onto the floor below.

Therisa © 2019

Through Adversity, Grows Love (February 9, 2019)

Should feel relieved

Bruce McArthur been sentenced

Twenty-five years

Before parole eligibility

At the age of 91.

For his sadistic murders

And dismemberment

Of eight men.

Whom

He had sexual involved

Before strangling them.

And yet

Within my heart

Anger and vengeance burns.

Crying out

At the injustice done

To Toronto's LGBTQ+ community.

Can't help wondering

If all of the victims

Were straight white men

The investigation been different.

Given the insitutalization

Of racism and LGBTQ+ bias

Well documented

Of this police force.

Vindictive bathhouse raid

Thirty-eight years ago

Operation Soap

That needlessly destroyed

So many closeted men

With their forced outings.

Instead of

Filling Toronto's downtown core

With destructive angry violence.

They marched

Peacefully

For justice and change.

Foundation

Of Toronto's annual

Pride parade celebrations.

Expanded

Over the years

To include

Lesbian and Transgender

Community marches.

Where love is

The message of change

Uniting the straight and LGBTQ+

The cis and transcommunities

As one.

Therisa © 2019

Thoughts For International Women's Day (March 11, 2019)

Calendar reads

Twenty-one months

And counting

For my current bout

Of depression.

A fact

Not proud of.

So easy

To lose oneself

In darkness and anger

Surrendering to this despair

Permanently.

Some

Like myself

Internalize this anger

Harming ourselves

By becoming suicidal.

Others

Externalize their anger

Becoming a threat

To themselves

And other people

For physical violence

And death.

And yet

During this period

Of prolonged darkness

Haven't felt this need

For desperate measures.

There have been

Momentary lapses

When suicidal thoughts

Emerged to the forefront.

Urging me

Take one final step

Into the great beyond

I've resisted.

Please understand

These suicidal thoughts

Are a part

Of my daily life.

Abuse/bullying survivor

Living with mental illness

And gender dysphoria.

Most people 

Don't understand

The disconnect

Between body and soul

That drives me.

Of the pain generated

By my genetic deformities

Having a male body

With a female soul.

Especially

Hearing people using

The wrong gender pronouns

When addressing me.

Worse offenders

Are transphobic ciswomen

In position of power

Who know better.

Wrongly believing

We're fifth columnists

Sent by misogynistic men

And their political organizations

To destroy all advances

Made by women.

Advances

We want to build on

And enshrine

Into the legal system

Protecting everyone.

Ironically

Doing the heavy lifting

For theses "anti-women"

Movements.

These misogynistic women

Risk losing everything

For very little return

In denying our existence.

As judges/politicians

Impose their will

On this growing dispute

Leaving neither side

Satisfied with the compromise.

Growing concern

Governments reduce

Their fiscal responsibilities

Supporting rape/abuse centers

As waiting lists reach

Eighteen months and longer.

Centers denied access

For transwomen seeking help

On the claims

We're re-victimizing

Cisgender clients and staff

Who've experienced

Sexual assaults and abuse.

As if

Being the victim

To crimes of power

Is limited

To ciswomen.

Therisa © 2019

Solitude Standing v.2.0 (March 26, 2019)

Across the great divide

I stand alone

With my memories

Lost in time.

Bitter tears falling

From swollen red eyes

Into shallow lakes

That floods my soulscape.

My soul scattered

In all directions

By the 4 winds

That blow across me.

Falling ever deeper

Into the depth of despair

Which threatens

To destroy me.

Reliving a past

Best forgotten

So long repressed

In self-hatred

And recrimination.

Where my needs

Have become

A living nightmare

That poison my spirit.

Daring to dream

A different reality

For myself

And my body.

Crossing boundaries

Physically and spiritually

So long denounced

As societal taboos.

In chasing

Hopes and dreams

That speak of acceptance.

Therisa © 2019

Author's note: Written for Poets United midweek motif (March 27, 2019), using the word prompt: solitude.

Finessing Zero Tolerance (February 6, 2019)

Soul filled with ignorance and hate

Lashing out at specific targets

Dismissed: boys being boys

Generating another cycle

Silently endured

Harmed.

Healing

Speaking out

Breaking the circle

Starting with children's parents

Breaking down the cultural differences

Filling children with knowledge and compassion.

Last line of defense against abusers

In dealing with young children

Age appropriate punishment response

Using outright expulsion

No one

Wins.

Therisa © 2019

Author's note: As many people know, I have experienced bullying/abusive behaviour, for most of my life, as reflected in my poetry. This may shock some people, but I have trouble applying zero tolerance policy to children, who are strongly influenced by their parents' attitudes, (religious beliefs) and behaviour. I think that society has swing too far, in the other direction, in the punishing of these abusive kids. Who, in many cases, are the victims of abuse/bullying, themselves. How we judge and punish these children, must be flexible and fitting to the crime committed. One size fit all, only creates a harmful environment that these zero tolerance policies are trying to eliminate. Local board policy should act, as a guideline for state/provincial/territorial legislation, in handle these types of crime of power.

This experimental poetic form, I am thinking of calling it, "roller coaster". It breaks down, in the following stanzas:

1st stanza:  6 words/5 words/4 words/3 words/2 words/1 word

2nd stanza: 1 word/2 words/3 words/4 words/5 words/6 words

3rd stanza:  6 words/5 words/4 words/3 words/2 words/1 word

Three stanzas for a total of 63 words.

Written for Poets United's midweek motif, using the word prompt of: zero tolerance.

Selling Our Souls, For A Handful Of Coins (February 4, 2019)

Another cycle Has come and past As we await our salvation From ourselves. Depending Where one lives We're either frying Under extreme heat Like a plump sausage As Australia is. Or frozen solid Like bland tasteless tv dinners Brutally experienced  By most North Americans In the dyng moments Of January 2019. While we continue  To argue Seating arrangement. Our cruise ship sinks Ever deeper Into the deadly waters Of global warming. Elected governments Vaingloriously proclaim Their destructive intentions To the environment For a fast dollar Or two. In their shortsighted greed Appeasing financial And political supporters Whose bank accounts They now feed. Turning a willful blind eye To the physical evidence As various species Of plants and animals Become extinct. Some cases Overnight. What point Do we realize Our actions are Killing us Ever so slowly. Is it too late As the planetary lungs Are recklessly harvested For another hectare Of short-term pasture land. Else Latest slash and burn victim Feeding western society Growing dietary demands For plant-based foods. Knowing Once destroyed We can never replace These global lungs. Therisa © 2019