Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Ghost Dancing (August 11, 2014)

Among the shadows
My feet move
Crossing the plane
Of life.
In and out
The memory stream
With each step taken.
Stirring up
Long forgotten sensations
While my body moves
Between consciousness
And the Dream World.
Searching for answers
To questions
Never knew
Seeking guidance
And wisdom
Where chaos
And doubt
Rule my soulscape.
To unite
What was whole
Once more.

Therisa © 2014

Author's note: Written, as I suffered, through, a three month bout of agoraphobia, during the summer of 2014.

Saturday, 25 June 2016

Who Am I? (June 25, 2016)

Often wonder
When my curiosity
Gets the better of me
What my obit would say
About the person.

I am
To others?

A question
I ask.

Having read
Some of the victims' lives
From the Pulse Massacre
In Orlando, Fl.

Shall I
Be remembered
As a dreamer.

Who dare
To live life
As a woman
Within a man's body?

An educator
Who taught society
One person
At a time.

What means
To be
A transsexual
In a transphobic world.

An abuse survivor
Who is turning
Her tortured past
In something creative
And healing
For others.

A person
That others come to
In times of trouble
Who listens
To their burden
Without judgement.

As I struggle
With my own nightmares
That I have bottled up
Inside of me.

I will never know
The answers
In my lifetime.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before people start thinking, I'm suicidal and about to take my life, please stop, and realize this, my lifespan will be shorter, than my dad's and opa's, due to mental illness and inherited genetic conditions, like diabetes and heart disease. Never mind, most trans-people, in general, have a short life, than the general public. 

Personally, never thought, I would see my 30th birthday, yet alone, to celebrate my 45th one. The Pulse Massacre, in Orlando, Fl, has rocked me, to the core, like my opa's death did, on my 14th birthday, so many years ago. Although, I don't know, any of the victims, they're family, in a way, you wouldn't understand.

The Black Death (June 25, 2016)


Do you understand
What this word means
To me?

The standard
Dictionary definition.

You'll find
In a book
Or on-line.

In having
The creative part
Of your soul
Without warning.

Leaving behind
Those dark
And destructive voices
Of the past.

Rattling around
In your mind.

Whatever self-confidence
And self-esteem
You started life
As a child.

Giving greater volume
And clarity
To suicidal ideation.

Out of tune
And static filled.

As everything
A deadly weapon
In your eyes.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: How my black depressions are like, in experiencing them.

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

The Endless War (June 22, 2016)

On a daily basis
I face
This monster
That threatens
To consume me.

Like a psychic Vampyre
Draining my soul
Of energy and words.

A dry out husk

So easy
To surrender.

My bitter doom
And "Death".

As I drown
In the flash floods
Of tears
Cascading down
My face.

And yet
Within me.

A part
To roll over
And accept this.

Semi-annual cycling
Of light and dark
In my soul.

Its claws dug in
For every single cm2
An all out war
With my emotions
The battleground.

As the decades
Take their toll
Upon me.

I cling to
My inner light
And life
In this furious war.

One wrong move
Is death.

In the truest sense.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Right now, am struggling, to keep my head above the "emotional" waters, as my Summertime depression. is digging its claws, into me. One of my consequences, of my semi-annual depressions, is the sharp drop off, in my ability to write anything. Don't be surprise, if you see one or two poems, in a given month, as a result. And, a lack of visitations, by me, as my concentration levels, tank.

Monday, 20 June 2016

Updating My Social Calendar (June 20, 2016)

Once more
You have come
And embraced me
In your dark arms.

Whether or not
I want it.

Sudden showers
Deluge my face
In a constant stream
Of emotional tears.

Catching me
Off guard
At their arrival.

I have
A large red circle
On the calendar
For your ETA.

Placing your arrival
Another week
Or so
From now.

To my chagrin.

You'll be freeloading
Off of me.

For the next
Several weeks
To months.

If lucky
Will reduce
My waist
By a size
Or two.

For the upcoming
Fall and winter
clothing seasons.

Mustn't forget
Your next visitation
In November.

Lucky me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: The Orlando Massacre, at the Pulse nightclub has triggered, an earlier onset of my Spring/Summer bout of depression. In the past, I have been known to drop, at least, 2 or more dress size, during this period. Wish, I could say, this year's bout of depression will mild, but, with the 10th anniversary of coming out, to my mom and her rejection of me, have the feeling, it will be one of those years, which I am lucky to avoid the blackest of depressions.

Just The Usual (June 20, 2016)

The surprise?

I express
The night of ignorance
That covers
The medical community.

With their death of logic
A trans-person. 

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: The following link list some of the barriers that's faced, by the trans-community.

Myself, I have had to deal with transphobic psychiatrist, when I was psychologically assessed, for Ontario Disable Support Program (ODSP), in 2007, and endure misogynistic comments, from my own physician, concern estrogen and a bout of depression, in the past 5 years.

Saturday, 18 June 2016

The Middle Child (June 18, 2016)

An abandoned orphan
No one wants
Neither straights
Nor gays.

Left alone
To fend for themselves
Travelling a road
Most perilous.

The trans child.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Most people don't realize, but the trans-community is, the only part of the LGBT community that doesn't deal, with sexuality. Rather, the expression of one's true gender. For this reason, I will never understand, why we're lumped into this gathering. True, a trans-person, fits across the sexual expression spectrum, unlike any other groups does.

In Toronto's downtown, where most of the teaching hospitals are local, there are no dedicate program that teaching interning doctors about transgender medical issues, unless, they have to treat a trans-patient, for the first. My doctor's office, is a satellite clinic, for one of the major Toronto teaching hospitals, and I have lost track, how many times,  I had to educate the intern, about trans medicine, before they can treat my needs.

The title, for this poem, was inspired, by the Parachute Club's song, "Middle Child", which is found on their CD/Album release,  At The Feet Of The Moon (1984). As they were politically active, in the Canadian fight for LGBT+ rights, during the early 1980s.

Blinded By The Logical (June 18, 2016)

With bitter irony
Am write this.

It will be lost
On most people.

How (mostly white)
Conservative Christians
Have fought
Tooth and nail
Against Planned Parenthood
And abortions.

In arguing:

"That all life is

And yet
Opposed any legislation
Reducing access
To any firearms.

Whose sole existence
Is to KILL
Targeted people.

Can someone
Please tell me
How these two
Philosophical outlooks
Don't conflict.

For I am
A trans-lesbian Canadian
Who supports
Gun control laws.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: In the coming week, the United States Senate will be voting on numerous amendments, to its federal gun controls. Like those, aimed at, tightening the loopholes that currently exist, in the automated background software, which allows people, to get firearms, that would never past clearance, in Canada.

Friday, 17 June 2016

Not Begging. Just Explaining (June 17, 2016)

Why are people
So surprised
When they heard
About the transitioning costs
The trans-community faces.

The limited financial support
Only happens
Due to court challenges
After provinces tried
And failed
To delist SRS coverage,

Never mind
The long waiting lists
That grow
With each passing month
For us.

We find other means
To cover
Our basic surgeries.

As the provinces
And territorial governments
Rubbing their hands
In financial glee.

At the mere thought
Of removing us
From their welfare rolls

General welfare
Or disability support programs.)

For any money.

Generated by
Crowd sourcing
Or a gift.

It's counted
As income
We have available
To support ourselves.

Clawed back
From our monthly cheques.

The little fuckers.

Never mind
Being on disability
My monthly support cheque
Is half of the income level
Of the Canadian
Poverty line
For a single person.

And that's
With a special allowance
For being diabetic.

Which is
More than 10%
Of the base amount
I receive

Do you
Still think
It's a passing fad
For me?

The financial mountain
I have to climb
Without societal support
Or understanding.

Therisa © 2016

Author note: Many people may not realize, but, if a person, is receiving social assistance, in Canada, they're allowed, a limited amount (determined by their province/territory that they live in), in their bank accounts, before, this is clawed back, too, out of their support cheque. Under Ontario Disability Support Program, I'm allowed to have $6 000, before I am penalized. Never mind, the more money, I can save up, in a bank account, will raise my monthly rent and remove/or limit my rent subsidiary, I get. Never mind, most trans-Canadians live below the poverty line, in Canada, which no one speaks out on.

 A twisted sense of logic, if you ask me.

Below, is a link, that will explain the further hurdles that trans-Canadians face, as part of our transitioning expenses:

Please Standby, As We Are Experiencing, A Temporary Delay (June 17, 2016)

If home is
Ones heart is.

Mine is
A shattered field
Of glass shards.

Haven't felt like
I belonged
To any place.

I have left
My parents' place
For university
In 1990.

Feeling rootless
Like a tumbleweed
That's blown.

The arid landscape
By a desert wind.

As I made
My nomadic journey
To various eastern
And southern Ontario

Searching for
That missing

On a physical
And psychic level
From my life.

Even now
More than 10 years
Into my journey
Of self-discovery
And healing.

A part of me
Feels missing.

Something vital
In the completion
Of whom
I am.

As I feel it
Rubbing against
My soul
Like a small pebble
In a shoe.

Unable to find
And remove
This irritating "pebble".

Leaving me
In this moment
Of time.

Therisa © 2016

Thursday, 16 June 2016

The Pull Of Darkness (June 16, 2016)

Can feel it
My body.


My very sanity
Of the steps
I am taken.

As echoes
Of past abusers
At deafening levels
In my mind.

With homophobic
And transphobic

My entire life.

As if
It has no value
Worth saving.

And yet
I know
Without thinking.

To do
Is Death.

And physically.

To transition
Is the first
And most important

Of my holistic
For my body
And soul.

In breaking
Those strangling chains
Around me.

That almost
Claimed my life
A decade

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: July 1, 2016, will mark, a decade, since I came out, to my mom, and the final breaking of the abusive hold, she had, over me.

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

Hate Isn't Religion (June 15, 2016)

The words
Before you
Will anger and inflame
Some readers.

I don't fucking

Too long
We have lived
In a climate of fear
And hate.

A cold northwesterly wind
Blows across
The land.

Blinding everyone
In this bitter
Arctic vortex.

Their logic centres
To the dangers
We face.

Pumping out

As if
It was well water
To drink up.

Never stopping
To think
About the consequences.

Our words
And actions
Will have
On these people
Less stable.

Too late.

The police
Start knocking
On doors.

The surviving
Love ones.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before anyone goes and start attacking the first Moslem, they see, stop and think about this. Most hate crimes, against the LGBT+ community, in North America, are committed, by white Christian males.

Fitting Justice (June 15, 2016)

Don't mistaken
My passivity
For acceptance
Of the Massacre.

A maelstrom of anger
And tears.

To broil over
On the outside.

I want to punish
Who unleashed
Omar Mateen
As a loaded weapon
On Sunday morning.

For teaching him
To hate himself
And the LGBT+ community
My family.

Many straight organizations
And individuals
Must be held

For their words
And actions.

As part
Of the healing process
For everyone.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: In one,  of the free Toronto morning commuter papers, Omar Mateen, was described, as a troubled young man, struggling to accept his homosexuality, with his Islamic upbringing, by his parents. For their actions, his parents have a heavy burden that they owe, to the victims, their family and the LGBT+ community, at large. One doesn't, become a killer, without being trained, to do so.

On The Wings Of A Butterfly (June 15, 2016)

So easy
To let
My negative emotions

Like the prevailing wind
A coal generation station's
Toxic emissions.

Polluting the land
With my hate
And anger

Destroying all
With my acidic touch.

As I struggle
Against the headwinds
Of hate.

That holds
The world
In its grasp

Within my soul
A gentle breeze stirs.

A butterfly flapping
Its wings.

Giving birth
To a new wind
Of change.

Filled with hope
And understanding.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For the past 3 days, I have been struggling, to come to grips, with the Orlando Massacre, emotionally, and as, a LGBT+ person. Knowing, I could have been, another stat, to add to the growing tally of LGBT+ people, who have been killed, for being ourselves.

Not exactly sure, why I choose to the butterfly, as a symbol of change and hope, Other then, it's one of the symbols that the Trans-community has adopted, as its own, for growth and metaphorsis of one's true self.

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

The Painful Divide (June 14, 2016)

We didn't ask
To born different
From the world.

Just are.

Coming from
All religions
And ethnic groups.

We are
Your sons
And daughters.

With whom
You openly shared
Your love and compassion
Without a second thought
As we grew up.

For some
The knowledge
Of our LGBT+ nature
Was too much.

Rejecting us
As if
We are
Carriers of death
To you.

Please understand
We haven't closed
Our hearts
To you.

Even if
You have closed

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Since, my accidental outing of myself, to my mom, on July 1, 2006, I have tried several times, to bridge the gap, between us, to no avail. Although, she denies it, fear grips her, as her body language and eyes betrayal her lies, to me. For other members of the LGBT+ community, they are faced, with even more violent reactions, from their parents, in the form of physical attacks and threats of death, should that parent see them, again. To outright shunning of them, as if, they had already died.

Monday, 13 June 2016

Days, I Curse Myself (June 13, 2016)

On days
Like these.

Looking down
At my body
Fills me
With anger
And revulsion.

With a simple slice
Of a knife
To change
My genitalia.


The birth defects
Between my legs.

For more years
Then I can remember
Have always

I would find
magical talisman.
To change me.

Looking everywhere
I walked around
To no avail.

Turning hope
In despair
And depression.

At the thought
Of having
To endure
Another day
In this tainted body.

That society views
As being natural
For me.

Never realizing
The emotional
Or psychological

It causes

As I hide
The knives

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Having a bad body image day.

Personal Reactions To Orlando, Fl (June 13, 2016)

It sadden me
Having to write this
After the tragic massacre
Of Orlando, Florida.

Conflicting emotions
Fill my soul.

Not sure
How I should vent
These strong emotions
In a positive way.

Harming myself
Or other innocents
With their release.

I must do so
To start
My own healing.

Not a victim
Of this tragedy

I do feel
So very guilty.

Having survived
My own series
Of violent

Why I have survived
Where they didn't.

Does this guilt
Ever disappear?

A question
I have
No answer

Therisa © 2016

Sunday, 12 June 2016

Widening The Crack (June 12, 2016)

This Friday
I did something
That's totally
Out of character.

In opening up
And sharing
My self-harming secret
And the reasons
I harm myself.

In the past
I have written
And posted poems
About this.

(As I don't
Have to see
The reader's reaction
To my dark truths.)

Don't feel like
I'm being judged
By them.)

Never shared
With someone
Who wasn't part
Of my healing team.

Dropping my shields
Even further.

By sharing
My passive anger
Towards myself.

At times
Broils over.

I had died
In November 1974
From the electrical burns
I had suffered
As a child.

Therisa © 2016
Author's note: Since January 2, 2014, I have been attending, on an on/off basis, an art program, for people, who have mental illness, and are trying to break through the barriers (stigmas) associated with it. Attending session, on Monday and Friday afternoons, whenever possible, for me. The above poem and breakthrough happened after the June 10th session, with another member, from the program, as we waited together, for the 506 streetcar, to take us, on our way home.

Saturday, 11 June 2016

Setting Milestones (June 8, 2016)

This morning
I awoken
To history
Having been made.

Of the border.

Third time
In fifty-six years
The Democratic Party
Have nominated  

Who have shattered
Political barriers
Once thought

In 1960
It began
With John F. Kennedy
The elected Catholic
As US President.

All American Presidents
Have been
White Protestants.

Once more
The political landscape
Has changed.

In 2008 nomination
And election
Of Barrack Obama
As US President.

Who had
The audacity 
To dare dream.

For the first time
Never seen before
By Afro-Americans.

As Obama's
Second term ends
America's political landscape
Is more divided
In the Republican Party
Nominating Donald Trump
As their Presidential candidate.
For the third time
The Democrats
Have made history.

In selecting
Hillary Rodman-Clinton
As the first female
Presidential candidate.

Whether or not
She follows
In the footsteps
Of Kennedy and Obama
Will be answered
This November.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Sorry, for the long delay, in posting this, but, have been dealing with a nasal bug, which has left me, with little energy, for writing or wanting to be around people.

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

The Lonely Journey (June 8, 2016)

My life is
Not a fad
Like the latest
Reality TV show

Is it one
That lacks
Inner strength.

Having enduring
Endless rounds
Of conversion therapy
From society.

Of charge.

Their little
And homophobic hearts.

As I hid
My true self

The dormant seed
That is me
Started to bloom.

Bringing forth
An awareness
Whether or not
I want it.

In learning
To listen to
What my heart
And body
Are telling me.

A healing journey
In which
Numerous painful lessons
Have been forced
To confront.

Upon this path
I walk.

Spreading light
And knowledge
In a valley of darkness
And ignorance.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note As a child, growing up, I was exposed, to many violent acts, of a physical, verbal and psychological nature. Targeting me, due to my effeminate nature, as a perceived "boy", by society, that many people viewed me, as homosexual. Well, they were partly right, just the wrong gender.

Monday, 6 June 2016

Not Another Word (June 6, 2016)

Generation gap

1. a lack of communication between one generation and another, especially between young people and their parents, brought about by differences of tastes, values, outlook, etc.

You don't realize
How tired
I am.

Of hearing
People saying

Who have
Never experienced
Such hatred
Or violence
Against them.

Been more than
Two generations
Since Ms. Jorgesen's
Had her SRS.

And yet
We're still
Making excuses
For these bigots'
Transphobic behaviour.

At what point
Are these intellectual giants
Stopped given
A free pass
For their ignorance based

Another 60 years
Need to pass.

Any real change

As more dead
And injured bodies
Are tossed
To the curbside
By society.

Another generation
Of trans-people
In the process.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This year, 64 years ago, that Christine Jorgensen had her SRS preformed, in Norway. Making international headlines, for doing so. And yet, there are no longitudinal studies, on trans-women health, like the W.H.O. did ,on menopausal women, with hormonal replacement therapy, in 2007. Stopping it earlier, due to higher than expected health risks (heart attacks and strokes) among the study cohort. Instead, the medical community is treating trans-women, on the basis, of what menopausal women are reporting, to their doctors.

Given recent studies that find most prescribed medication, isn't tested on women, during the clinical trail stage, women are suffering unexpected side-effects, from these meds.  Just so, the trans-women are being used, as Guinea pigs.

Never mind, no major medical school offers any courses, on trans-medicine. And only, a 2-4 hour seminar, for gay and lesbian health issues.

Attempt At Order (June 6, 2016)

How I wish
I could say
My life has been
All moonbeams
And roses.

Those violent experiences
Are mere figments
Of my imagination.

The mental strain
And the damage done
Over the years
Says otherwise.

You must realize
My unique situation
Isn't the norm
For most trans-Canadian.

Just one
Of the more
Extreme cases
On the violent end
Of the experience

Please understand
I don't write poetry
In the hope
Of gaining pity.

Other similar

I want them.

Have to look
In the bathroom mirror.

And see
My reflection
Staring back
At me.

These stanzas
You see
Before you.

Are my lame attempt
To impose order
On the chaos
I have lived

Never expecting
Anyone would read these
And respond back
Like they have.

Therisa © 2016

Reality Check Time (June 6, 2016)

June 6,  2016
Canada won't have
Any law covering
Assisted death.

The flawed bill
That the Liberals
Are pushing
Through Parliament
And the Senate.

Have none
And get the legislation

The first time.

Pay out millions
In legal fees.

For the long
And emotional
Court challenge
That will come.

Those doomsayers
Who are predicting
The end
Of the medical system
In Canada.

I have
One word
For them:


For Canada's courts
Have laid out
The necessary criteria
For these cases
To occur.

The various provincial
And territorial colleges
Of physicians
Are developing
Their own guidelines
For their members.


Just because
You have
A right to control
Your life.

Doesn't mean
It will be used
By those
In extreme pain
Or a terminal condition.

And yes
The only "wild west"

Is coming
From those
With a political axe
To grind.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On Friday, June 3, 2016, Canada's Senate started it's third reading of C-14, as the Liberal dominated House of Commons passed the bill, without any major changes, ignoring all opposition proposed changes, to it. While, this was happening, the Alberta Court of Appeal, slammed the federal government, for going against the Carter Decision, by the Supreme Court of Canada, which ruled the current law against assissted death, as unconstitional. For more, on the Alberta ruling, please click, on the following link:

Myself, I support the right, to choose, one's moment of death, whether or not, you're suffering from a terminal condition, as the propose law, would only allow. Ignoring the fact, psychairic conditions, can be, just as painful, in affecting the quality of life, of a person.

Saturday, 4 June 2016

Being An Alien, In Your Own Home (June 4, 2016)

A Canadian citizen
By birth.

There are times
That I feel
Like a foreigner
In my own country.

To understand
The reasons
For this.

As if
My very existence
Is an abomination
To creation.

Too often
I feel unsafe
Upon the streets
Of Toronto.

At various times
Felt my life
Being threaten.

In Brampton, Ontario
(A suburb community
Of Toronto)
And Toronto, Ontario
(Ontario's capital
And Canada's largest city).

Am I
Being justifiably
For feeling
This way?

As the transphobic
Psychiatrist labelled me
In her psych assessment
From December 2007.

The next time
Could mean
My death.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For more, on this Ipsos-Yahoo! Canada poll, please click on the link:

First Steps (June 4, 2016)

My Dearest
Brothers and Sisters;

These bitter-sweet tears
That you see
Flowing down
My face.

In honour
Of your healing
And the ability
To celebrate
Your true self.

For too long
You have suffered
With the stigma
Of being Aboriginal
And LGBT+.

Of having
Your culture
And heritage

In the racist belief
By doing so
We're advancing

Casting you
A sense of self-worth
Or self-value.

I can relate to
All too well.

I struggle
With the same fight.

Please accept
These words
I offer.

As a sign
That true healing
Can begin
For all of us.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: As Attawapiskat, the northern Ontario community, has been struggling with mass suicide attempts, among its population, I felt, the need to share, this positive healing article, with the world. To read this article, please click on the link:

A Forged Past (June 4, 2016)

A sad sigh
Is gently released
Through clenched lips.

As my mind wanders
Down memory lane
With the numerous albums
Filled thousands of photos
Of me.

Thirty-five years
Of living
A horrendous lie.

My mom
Has taken
Of me.

Just like
My old cub handbook
And anything else
That reeks
Of this falsehood.

I want them
All burnt.

These objects
Only matter
To one person.

My mom.

To her
As witnessed
By her actions
And body language.

I have
Already died
On July 1, 2006.

Why keep
These fraudulent images
For many
She has stalked me.

With the camera
Like a tiger does
To its prey.

My countless requests
Not to.

And deep animosity
Having my photo
Being taken.

That she
Ever listened
To me.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: My mom and I have had numerous fights, over her taking my photo, without my permission, over the years. To the point, I have deliberately gone out of my way, to spoil any chance photo, she might take of me. Just one more case, of her, not respecting the boundaries, I set up, for myself, with her.

Surviving The Kiln (June 3, 2016)

"It survived"
To paraphrase
The line
From Frankenstein

As my "crater project"
The kiln

A major worry
The deep fissures
That pockmark
The piece.

In releasing
A huge sigh
Of relief
From my held

Able to move on
With the next stages
Towards completion.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: On May 27, 2016, "the crater" was loaded, on the bottom of the kiln, due to the fear that it might shatter, during the first firing. Although, I was absent, when it was removed from the kiln, on May 30th, it miraculously survived, the first firing, and have since started to apply the various coloured glazes. 

Thanks, But No Thanks (June 3, 2016)

egend has it
At the end
Of the rainbow
We'll find
A pot of gold.

And yet
For many trans-people
The rainbow flag
Is a sign
Of oppression.

We're left behind
To scratch
Tooth and nail
For the most part.

By an indifferent
Gay and lesbian community
Who have won
Their legal rights

This is why
With a clear conscious
I'll have nothing
To do.

With Toronto's
Pride celebrations.

Into an excuse
For hedonistic parties
Supporting corporate sponsors.

The true roots
Of Pride's existence:

To protect
Against injustice
And inequality.

Is it
Any wonder
Many trans-people
Have elected
To go stealth.

Instead of
Remaining visible
And fighting
The system.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This year marks the 35th year of Toronto, having Pride marches, which started, as a protest march, against the indiscriminate police raids, of gay bath houses. Over the years, it has grown, to include, the lesbian and trans-community, whether or not, the gay community want it.

Glossary of terms 

Stealth: going underground, denying your trans' roots, when you're totally passable, in your preferred gender.

Friday, 3 June 2016

Throwaway People (June 3, 2015)

In my community
Where poverty is
The way of life
For too many.

We struggle
To hold hope
Within our heart
On a daily basis.

Against the urge
To become
Another drug town.

In seeking
An avenue
Of escape
In whatever form

Death is found
A penny
For a dozen souls.

Of race
Or gender.

In numbing
Our senses
The brutal grind
Of daily life.

As the mentally ill
Are found
In the discount bins
Of the local Wal-Mart.

And forgotten
By society
Like yesterday's DVDs.

To be tossed
In the local

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: The above protest poem was created, from this word bank: community, hope, poverty, drug town, and Wal-Mart.

For the record, I live, in one of thirteen "priority neighbourhoods", in the city of Toronto, that lacks basic infrastructure, which a modern community needs, to sustain, the development of a healthy population. Where, the local supermarket, is nothing more, than a convenience store.

Due to budget cuts, over the past decade, in Ontario, the mental health programs have declined to the point, long term programs are being eliminated and replaced, with short to medium term ones. With the added burden of long waiting lists, to those long term programs that still exist. Literally, a penny-wise, and a pound foolish, as the old saying goes. 

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Eulogy For A Soul Regain (June 2, 2016)

From living
A lie.

At 35 years
8 months
And 13 days
On November 15th.

For one
T------ A----- G-------.

Upon marking
The seventh anniversary
Of his father's death
In November 1998
Over his grave.

He placed
The need of others
Before his own.

Battling undiagnosed
Mental illness
For most of his life.

In spite of
His silent tears
Kept those
Around him

Various learning disabilities
Turned his doubters
Into believers.

With his B.A.
From Carleton University
In 1994.

Filling his dad
With unexpressed

I ask you.

"Wipe away
Those tears
From your eyes
And rejoice."

From this death
Comes forth
A new life.

With love
And renewed hope
For the future.

None existed

For I am standing
Before you
Like the Phoenix
Who has risen
From death's ashes.

Spreading my wings
Wide and far
As I soar
On life's thermals.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: It was November 15, 2005, when I realized my true self, as I stood over, my dad's grave, crying uncontrollably, for 5 minutes. This day will forever, be edged, in my memory, for the unusually very mild weather, we're experiencing that November. On this particular day, it was a mild mist that cover the greater Toronto area, instead of, the usually bitter cold blowing winds, and temperatures, just hovering about 0 C.

In August 1977, I hid away Therisa, to protect her, for the transphobic and general abuse, I was experiencing, as a part of my daily life, living in, a small rural Ontario village. For the next 28 years, she remain thus, until this fateful day, in 2005.

Potty Talk (June 2, 2016)

Have the legal right
To enter and use
A woman's washroom
In Ontario.

It's one
Am leery
To use.

Of a transphobic
By the other users.

Even though
No one has
Ever complained
About me
Doing so.

And yet
The fear

As for
Those transphobic bigots
Who bring up
The old red herring
Of us
Being sexual voyeurs.

A cheap frill
For seeing exposed
Women and children.

To them
I say:


All of the perverts
Who been caught
Are cis-males.

And I

Not one.

A pre-op
Finding her.

My only request
To you.

Could you
In the future
Please be
More creative
In your transphobic

So tired
And bored
Of your current
Standard lines.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For the first time, Canada has declared, the month of June, as "Pride Month", in support of the LGBT+ community, as the rainbow flag flies, on Parliament Hill, besides the Canadian flag. In Toronto, Pride celebrations have been extended from the usual 10 days, to the entire month of June, as well. A move, to cash in, on the tourists that Pride events draws, here. Ok, call me, a cynic, on this one.

The following link, is from Yahoo! Canada, and the series of daily articles, on Canada's LGBT+ community and the issues that we're facing. Here, are the past two day articles:

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