Highway Robbery (January 30, 2016)

www.huffingtonpost.ca

As a diabetic

Am told

I need to eat healthy.

And yet

How does one

Do so

On a fixed limited budget?

Especially

With the daily depreciation

Of the Canadian dollar

(The loonie)

Against the greenback?

Or 

The extreme weather

That Mexico and California

Have experiencing

Of late.

In the past 2 month

My buying power

Has declined

By 40 %

For fresh fruits

And vegetables.

Luckily

The prices of frozen

Fruits and veggies

Haven't changed

Much.

Unlike those

On Ontario Works

(Read welfare)

I have some cushion

To protect me.

But

I refuse

To buy canned fruits

And veggies.

Given their levels

Of sugar and salt.

Or

The outrageous price

Of $3.95

For a bunch

Of celery.

Find myself

Refusing to pay

These outrageous prices

For fresh produces.

Instead

Choosing

To go without

Until some sanity

Is restore

At the checkout counter.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Yesterday (January 29, 2016), at a local fresh fruit and vegetable market, I saw green peppers, selling for $7.70/kg ($3.50/lb). These prices aren't, from northern Canada, rather, from Toronto. Lets just say, I bought only four of them, to make soups and chili, over the next few weeks. I know, I won't be buying celery, any time soon, give the current price of $3.50 +.


Sigh.

Putting My Pen Down (January 27, 2016)

Um

Excuse me

Star

This is not

Your bed.

But

My writing book

You're claiming

For yourself.

As I

Madly

Write down

My scribbles 

Upon its pages.

That few people

Can read

Without an atomic microscope

To magnify

My handwriting.

Honestly

Do you mind

This small space

Of mine

Star?

When

You have

My entire apartment

At your disposal.

To do

As you

Please with.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Sigh. What can I say, cats rule. Star, unlike Venus and Squeak, who love to use my writing books, as a scratchpads, Star, only wants to sleep on it, while I am writing, during the night's late hours, into the wee hours of the morning.

Wake Me Up, When It's May (January 27, 2016)

www.memecenter.com

Cruelest part

Of Winter

Is almost over.

As the "Killing" Moon

Slowly resides

Into the distant horizon

Marking the end

Of January.

February brings forth

The old Celtic observation

Of Imbolc

Winter's midpoint.

We

North Americans

Have changed

To Groundhog Day

With silly rituals

To predict

Winter's end.

(Never mind

It's my birthday

As well.

(Which

I've stopped celebrating

Since 1984

With the sudden death

Of my opa.)

As if

This rudely awaken

Hibernating rodent

Can see it's shadow

Through the glare

Of the TV camera lights.

Sheesh

Anything for

A buck or two

That tourists bring.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: For more information about the Celtic celebration of Imbolc, you can check out, the following wikipedia entry: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imbolc .


Personally, February 2nd, seems to be a magnet for bad events for me, as I'm, either sick with a cold/flu or something bad happens. Honestly, I wish I could hibernate, until May, when the warmer weather is here, and there's no chance of a late snowstorm, like the ones that happen, in April.

Why Can't I Be You? (January 26, 2016)

www.motherjones.com

Courage:

[kur-ij, kuhr-]

noun

1.

the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.

2.

Obsolete. the heart as the source of emotion.

Idioms

3.

have the courage of one's convictions, to act in accordance with one's beliefs, especially in spite of criticism.

source: www.dictionary.com

A gentle

But sad sigh

Escapes my lips

As tears roll down

My face.

In trying

To find

That inner strength.

That you say

Shines like a beacon

Through the darkness

I have walked

In my journey

To here.

Having lost

Everything of value

To my body and soul.

For this need

Of mine.

Correcting

A genetic birth defect

Being born

Within the wrong body

Of a male.

Which

Society views

As normal.

Despite

Viewing myself

As a woman trapped

Within a male shell

Of a body.

Won't burden you

With the years

Of abuse and bullying

That has marked my life.

Since

I realized

This inner truth

At the tender age

Of four.

Within my head

The voices

Of my abusers

Ringing out.

Cursing me

With such crude

And hurtful language.

No child should

Ever know.

Fuelling their need

For power

And control.

By expressing

Their fear

At that

Which

Is different.

Sadly

As adults

These children

Haven't learnt their lessons.

As the fire

Of transphobia

And homophobia

Burns brightly

In their souls.

Consuming

Whatever remains

Of their logic centre

In a Gray hateful ash.

And yes

There times

I have felt

My life

At risk.

In spite

Of this fact

I move forward

In my healing pilgrimage.

Uniting my body

With the feminine soul

I was born

Within.

Thus

Completing

This cycle.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: By the age of twelve, I had attempted, at least 3 different times, to end my life, which I have never told my parents, about. My last 3 years of high school, was marked, by a nightly visit to the kitchen, where I tried to pierce my chest, with one of the meat knives, but I lack the strength to push it, into my chest cavity.


After coming out, accidently, to my mom, over the 2006 Canada Day long weekend, she told me:


"Hell would have to freeze over, and I would have to, come crawling on my hands and knees, begging her, for forgiveness, before she would think about it."


Needless, to say, I was thrown for a dark suicidal depression that lasted, the entire month of July. Nearly costing my job, as a result. With the help and support of a very special friend, I wouldn't be here, to share this, with the world. Thank you, Z.


The title of this poem, is a reference to the British Goth group, The Cure, who's dark and melodic tunes have helped me, during my bout of dark depression. Also, refers to my needing to live my life, as a woman, who is...simply elegance.

Untitled (January 25, 2016)



www.kellywpa.com

Feel like

The general

That's about

To sign

Terms of surrender papers.

As I face

The real possibility

Of having to start

Insulin

On February 5th.

A fact

My doctor shared

During my appointment

This morning.

Should my A1C

Come back

Extremely high

Like last September test

At 10.

People tell me

Not to sorry.

But

They don't have

To stab themselves

With a needle

On a daily basis.

Or have

An extreme phobia

To needles.

Even

Using a lancet

To prick myself

Fills my soul

With a paralyzing anxiety.

Needing a year

Before

Able to do it

Myself.

This is

One birthday present

I dread

To receive.

Even if

It comes

Three days later.

And people wonder

Why I don't celebrate

My birthday.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: In September 2007, two months, after leaving the homeless shelter, I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. Sadly, last year, as I struggled, with my mental health, I went off, all of my medications (for HRT and diabetes), for least four months. Am, now, paying the price, for doing so.

Occupation Hazard Of Being Human (January 12, 2016)

www.en.yibada.com

In my mind

Numerous voices

Are sparring

For my attention.

And yet

I find myself

Drifting

Ever so slightly

Into "no man's land".

Retreating

From reality

Into my own protective space.

Where

No one can

Touch me.

Being around people

For most of the day

Drains my soul

Of its spark.

Like a battery

Left on

For too long

I crash.

Without

The necessary energy

For my eyes

To flash:

 

"Tilt".

As seen

In cartoons.

Needing

An hour or two

With my cats

Or rest.

To recharge

Once more.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: Not sure, if I should feel blessed or cursed, in being, an introvert, who suffers from anxiety/panic attacks, in crowded situations, like rush hour traffic, on the public transit. The simple act of taking public transit, during rush hour, takes on new dimension, even after, I have taken CBT, at a local hospital, for my body and soul, are totally drained of energy, as I need to release the shock, and recharge. It's not unusual, for me, to let several streetcars, bus or subway trains, to go by, before I feel comfortable, in boarding one. Even with, a companion, along for the ride, with me.

Just The Way, It Is (January 23, 2016)

www.susans.org

Hello

My name is

Therisa.

Does this

Bother you?

As you say:

"Male".

As if

It was

The most vilest

Curse word

You know.

Correct me

If I'm wrong.

But didn't

Your religious belief

Teach you.

To treat others

As you want them

To treated you?

Especially

Volunteering

At a food/clothing bank

For disadvantaged "women"

And families?

I write this

Not to embarrass you.

Rather

Trying to understand

Why you harbour

Such ill will

Towards me.

Honestly

I wish

It was possible.

For you

To experience

The "Hells"

I have travelled

Through.

Just to reach

This stage

Of my life.

Actively

Attempting to

Correct

This genetic mistake.

Of being born

In the wrong gendered

Body.

Is this

Asking

Too much?

For compassion

And a helping hand

Towards

A fellow human being.

For some

It is.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On January 19th, I walked up, to a nearby food/clothing bank, ran by, a local Christian organization, in Toronto. For the first time, in 13 months, I was made to feel like, I didn't belong there, by one particular volunteer, there. Guess, I shouldn't be surprised, given my past experienced, with "religious" people and their gross intolerance, towards those, who challenge their perception of "what is right and wrong". In their quoting verses, from the Talmud and the New Testament, at me, saying my soul is, eternally damned, for being a trans-lesbian.


I didn't feel right, in challenge this person, outright, rather tried to pass it, by saying, I'm transitioning, which is true. Maybe, the next time, if I see her, I will ask, if we can go to a separate room, and try to enlighten her, about her rudeness and ignorance. If she is willing, to keep an open mind, while we talk.


For the record, I'm not, a practicing Jew, Christian, or Muslim. Rather, find myself, leaning towards Animism, which some "People of the Book" would view me, as being Pagan.  Never mind, I was forced by my mom, to attend various Protestant churches, until my mid-teens, when I said, "enough". Never have felt comfortable, in any of these churches. In fact, one church made me feel, like I was walking over the graves of dead.

The Mountain Of Life (January 20, 2016)

www.agreekadventure.com

It stands

Before me

Like K2

Or Mount Everest.

Taunting me

To assault

Its steep slopes.

My hands

Searching for

That elusive grip

To propel me

Upwards.

Having spent

What seems

Like an eternity

On this rocky outcrop.

Scared

To look down

Where I've climbed

Over the past decade.

Afraid

I'll lose my footing

As vertigo

Over takes me.

(My fear of heights

Is second

To that

Of needles.)

Having

Already fallen

Backwards.

Losing several meters

(And years)

As a result.

Forced

To restart

From the base

Up.

Without

The same margin

Of error.

I

Once

Had.

Knowing

My future health

And any possibility

Of SRS.

Hang

In the balance.

Regaining control

Over my Type II diabetes

And mental health.

As I retrace

My steps

Upon the rock cliff.

Hoping

Of reaching

My dream's summit.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Yesterday (January 19, 2016), I had an appointment, with my diabetic nurse and dietitian, at their downtown Toronto office, as part of the follow-up, to my starting a new med, just before Christmas, last year. At the time, my glucose reading were dangerously high, in the low to mid-20s mmol/L. In Canada, a healthy person, should readings between 4 and 6 mmol/L, during a blood test. A diabetic is considered, within acceptable levels, if they test, between 4 and 7 mmol/L, before eating or drinking any food. At two hours afterwards, it increases between 5 and 10 mmol/L, for diabetics.


Lucky me, I get to see my family doctor and have fasting blood work done, tomorrow morning. A task, I'm not looking forward to, in having, to go and see the vampires, in the lab. Sigh.

Mt. Melancholy (Janaury 18, 2016)

www.emaze.com

Today

I find myself

Walking

Under the shadow

Of darkness.

As old memories

Spring forth

Like an avalanche.

Cascading down

The snow covered

Mountainside.

As if

I have taken

The wrong trail

Into a forbidden area

With my ignorance.

Burying me

So deep

In the memories

Of a darker time.

Each passing second

The burden grows heavier

Upon my soul.

Am struggling

To find up

From down

With little avail.

Feeling

My inner spark

Growing dimmer

As the tears fall

Down my face.

Knowing

How easy

It would be

To surrender myself

And let everything

Go.

In my wanting

To remain

In the foetal position.

Until

My oxygen runs out

Fading out

Into the night

Forever.

But

I know

These feeling

Shall pass.

As I dig

My way out

Into the light

Once more.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: Not exactly sure, what triggered the events of last Monday, January 18, 2016, when I found myself, buried, under a sudden wave of dark memories. Almost 36 hours later, am still struggling with the aftermath of this, as emotionally, I feel numb, and have lost all contact, with my poetic muse. If I was, to describe this, it feels like a PTSD flashback, without any of the visible images, normally, would have experienced, with one. In being, a total sensory overload of my emotions, in a three hour period, on Monday. Much like the type, I would associate, around my electrical burn, to my mouth, as a four year old.

Fortress Europa (January 9, 2016)

www.caef.org.uk

By land or sea

They come

In seeking

The "Promise Land".

Like the Jews

Being led

By Aaron.

Heading north

And west

At great peril

And cost.

In money

And lives lost.

Only

To find

A desolate land

Filled with hate

And fear.

As spools

After spools

Of razor wire

Is strung

Across the land.

Bringing back

Darker memories

Of a deadlier time.

When

An "iron curtain" draped

Across Europe.

In turning

A relative "peaceful" continent

Into an armed camp

With twitchy fingers

On triggers.

As the dead bodies

Wash ashore

In the Mediterranean

And Aegean Seas.


Therisa © 2016

Author's notes: As a Canadian, from the safe haven, of my apartment, living afar, from the developing situation, in Europe, it's so easy, for me, to critique, the actions of the various European nations have taken, in regards, to the flood of African and Asian immigrants and refugees, over the past 5 years. Especially, after extreme violence that has gripped France, Belgium and to, a lesser degree, Germany, over the past year.


As Politicians and right wing extremists have been quick, to blame IS and thus, by extension, the growing Muslim population, who are, the grandchildren and great grandchildren, of migrant workers and refugees, who fled colonial wars, during the 1960s. Have grown frustrated, with the current political and economic system that offers no hope of improvement, by turning to alternative solutions, like extreme Islamic beliefs. This political backlash is fuelling, the growing feeling of xenophobia and isolationism, among these "native" populations.


I realize, there are no quick solutions, this growing unrest, but it's time, for politicians to act, and take decisive action, for the current system has shown itself, to be flawed, and in serious need of overhaul, if Europe wants to avoid the racial riots, like the United States did, during the 1960s. A plan, which meet the needs, of each individual country and not patchwork affair, which only covers up, the gaping holes of European society. Important ideas that have worked, in Canada, but doesn't take into account, the historical problems of decolonialization and dealing with a multicultural society of today.