Friday, 30 September 2016

Voice Of Darkness (September 30, 2016)

I can hear them
As if
It was yesterday.

And not 
Thirty-five years

Their 10 year old voices
Calling me:

"A f--king wuss."


"A f--king sissy
Who loves 
To s--k cocks."

As their blows
Upon my body.

Not caring
Bloody mucus flows
From my nose.

My clothes are
A muddy wreck.

Growing tired
Of their little amusement
That I present
To them.

Leaving me
To drag myself
Back home
From the elementary school.

All three of us
Went to.

Having learnt
To hide any evidence
Of abusive bullying
Before my parents
Got home.

The wiser
For my parents.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Not sure, which one is worse, having auditory or visual flashbacks, but given the frequency and duration of my auditory flashbacks, I would have to say, they are. Often, finding myself, trapped, within a viscous loop that can last for several hours,  as they destroy, whatever sense of worth, I have. Leaving me, feeling like, I'm trapped, in that dark time, of my life, again. 

For today, is one such day, for me, as my anxiety levels are spiking upwards, and I need to stop them, before they paralyze me, within this toxic loop.

Thursday, 29 September 2016

Porn (September 29, 2016)

An illusion
Deliberately created
Of one's desire.

One glossy page
After another.

Of a dream

In the mailbox.

A soft sigh
Of desire.

As the sound
Of heels clicking
With each step
Is pure heaven
To my soul.

Does that shoe/boot
Come in
My size?

Whether or not
I can afford

Darn you
For sending
That catalogue.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This morning, a local chain of footwear sent out, their quarterly catalogue, they'll carrying this season. In the past, I have bought a gorgeous pair of winter boots that are simply divine, to wear. Only to lost, when my mom raided my storage locker, nine years ago, after I told her, to leave it alone. Sadly, it wasn't the only thing, she lost or damaged, in her misguided attempt to be helpful. Thankfully, I don't to deal with her, anymore, as I severed all ties, with her, 4 years ago, in early November. Don't need the stress or anxiety attacks, when having to deal with her transphobia and denial of it.

Tuesday, 27 September 2016

Dancing Along The Edge (June 10, 2012)

Past 90 minutes
An inner debate rages
Throughout my mind
Taking me
from my sleep.

Not sure
Why my subconscious
Has brought this
To the foreground.

Don't understand
This conflicting argument.

How society accepts
Without blinking an eye
Validity of cosmetic surgery
For vanity reasons.

It decrying SRS
As "mutilating"
My body.

Big enough
Bank account
With right plastic surgeon
I can emerge.
A totally different person
From the original consultation.

Think of it
Sitting in
A very expensive restaurant
Ordering off it's menu.

Instead of
Food served
Procedures provided.

Oh look
For two grand
My backside
Can look like J.Lo's.

Another grand
For Katherine Hepburn's
High cheekbone.

Twenty more grand
For "D" cup breast.

Five grand combo deal
Liposuction and tummy tuck.

In Ontario
My gender can be change
If the surgeon signs
The right form
From a simple nose job.

Heaven forbid
Should I like my body
But want the matching genital 
Of the gender
I am presenting to others.

Forced to undergo
Psychological evaluation
In an institution
Known for
Its' transphobic attitude
Before getting approval.


Lucky me. 

Therisa © 2012

Author's Note: Since, I wrote this poem, four years ago, a lot has changed, in Ontario, for those, who are seeking approval for SRS, and for the trans-community, at large. British Columbia and Ontario, are the only two province/territories, in Canada, that allow a trans-person to change their gender assignment on their birth certificate, without the need of any surgeries, of any kind. Just a doctor's note, explaining why the person would benefit from this, and a small payment, accompanied, with the properly filled out paperwork.

In March 2016, the province of Ontario announced, it was removing the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH), as the sole gatekeeper, for approval of gender assignment surgeries, sharing the responsibilities, with local trained health care providers. In an attempt, to ease the growing 2+ year backlog of cases, at the CAMH gender clinic. Prompting an Ottawa man, to sue the provincial government over the lengthy waiting period, he was forced to endure, before going private and taking out a $7100 personal loan. for his top surgery. After the surgery, he received word, his application had been approved for the very surgery, he paid for. Due to wording of the health act, which covers SRS, he can't be refunded the cost of the surgery, hence, the law suit, and the change, in SRS approval.

Starting, in 2017, all driver licences issued, in Ontario, will be given the choice of selecting what gender, they want shown on it, either F (female), M (female) or X (none). As Ontario health cards issued this year, have no gender displayed on them. While, the federal government of Justin Trudeau, has announced that it's studying plans, on issuing a gender neutral passports, like Australia and New Zealand does, for it's trans-citizens. Replacing the draconian policy, the Harper administration implemented, in 2012, which requires all transpeople to carry a passport, in their birth gender, if they are pre-op. Only allowing a temporary passport, if they are having SRS, in the following two years, and must be accompanied, with a doctor's note, saying so, to be valid.

I do hope, Canada adopts a passport, similar to Australia and New Zealand. Failing that, moves in line, with Great Britian and the United States, which allows a pre-op trans-person, to have a passport, to be issued that identifies us, in our chosen gender, and not, the current policy.

Must admit, all of the prices for the various body modification, are totally made up, by me. I don't have the slightest clue, for the real cost, of these procedures. Except, they're not cheap.

Saturday, 24 September 2016

Wasted Energy? (September 21, 2016)

Don't understand
Why you need
To prove
Your manhood
In this way.

As you drive by
Shouting out
Various Homophobic
Or transphobic slurs.

Are you
So insecure
And scared
You need 
To belittle others?

As you drink
Your favourite brand
Of liquid courage.

Getting behind
The steering wheel.

A rite of passage
Many people experience
Growing up.

Call me
A hopeless dreamer.

You'll change
Your juvenile ways.

From a pathetic man-child
To a responsible adult.

One hopes.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Another poem written, in the wee hours of the night. Damn broken sleep.

Friday, 23 September 2016

It's Still Here, Folks (September 23, 2016)

As a teenager
I remember
The "die in"s
By local AIDS activists
In downtown Toronto.

As they protected
Government inaction
On this killer virus
In the 1980s.

Once more
AIDS has reared
Its ugly head.

As a new canary
Has replaced
The LGBT+ community 
In the coal mine.

Of this battle
For life and death.

As alarm bells
Are being rung
By the provincial medical
And Aboriginal communities. 

In a province
That enjoys
The luxuries
Of the developed world.

With the inflection
And death rates
Of the worse
Developing nations
With high HIV/AIDS.

As if
They're an ostrich
With its head
In the sand.

Not wanting
To believe
The statistics
Before them.

At what point
Does public safety
Come first
In preventing
These needless deaths?

Are we
That much ahead
By saving a nickel

Having to spend
A dollar or more
In future budgets?

Reality is
So simple.

Therisa © 2016

Author's noteSadly, in the province of Saskatchewan, the Aboriginal and Metis communities are staggering, under the deadly epidemic of HIV/AIDS that's twice Canada's national rate. Although, noone want to mention it, but if this was happening, in the "white" population of Saskatchewan, Heaven and Hell would be move, to bring this epidemic under control, regardless, of the cost to the provincial budget. Below, is a link to this unfolding tragedy, in Saskatchewan:

Monday, 19 September 2016

Emotional Roller Coaster (September 19, 2016)

Can feel it
Coming over me
Like a Siren
It calls.

A darkness
In my soul.

Corrosive touch
Is resistance
To all known treatment.


Wiping away
Tears of frustration.

A dark brown trail
Streak my cheeks
From those
I missed.

As concussive waves
Over my body.

Leaving me

And physically.

To runaway
And hide
From everyone.

Caring not
Am damaging
By doing so.

Awaiting Hypos'
Calming embrace
That never
Seems to arrive.

I wait it.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Starting Friday, September 16, 2016, until today, I have been riding an emotional roller coasters, as my mood has swinging drastically, between bouts of crushing depression and normalcy, for me. I haven't experience anything like this, since I was taking anti-depressants, several years ago. And I refuse to start my 9th anti-depressant/anxiety medication, which my family doctor was given, during a mini-psyche assessment, four years ago. Been there, done that, and got the ugly t-shirt, to prove it.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Giving Back (September 14, 2016)

My generation
People have labelled
As "Generation X".

Have been told 
We don't appreciate
The sacrifices
Of previous generations
Before us.

To which
I say

Having myself
Lost everything
In my life
That I value.

My immediate family
And those
Who I considered
Close friends.

I shared
My true self.

As a woman
A male body.

How total strangers
Reached out
And helped me.

I was suicidally depressed 
After these rejections.

By helping me
To rebuild
My inner foundation
In a stronger
And more flexible

Material needs
Can be replaced
With ease.

By using 
A debit
Or credit card.

A person's life 
Can't be.

This message 
Was brought home
To me
Last month.

When I saw
An elderly woman
Of South Asian heritage
Rummaging through
My apartment building's 
Garbage bin.

Seeking discarded items
To help her survive
As a huge smile
Dominated her face.

The abject poverty
Of her physical situation.

Only wish
I could have 
Help her.

Paying back
Who have helped me
The past decade.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: There are many people, who I have lost contact with, over the years, who kindness of heart and generosity, have allowed me, to write this poem, before you. To them, I wish to say, "I sorry", and hope, you understand. From this bitter experience, I have discovered, what true friendship means, and the price that it sometimes demands, from us. To which, I willing pay, without second thoughts. 

Tuesday, 13 September 2016

Life Goes On (September 12, 2016)

"The hardest years, the darkest years, the roarin' years, the fallen years 
These should not be forgotten years 
The hardest years, the wildest years, the desperate and divided years 
We will remember, these should not be forgotten years"

Forgotten Years by Midnight Oil (!990)

Have never thought
Of myself
As being brave
Or courageous
Like others
Have told me.

Who is struggling
To understand themselves
And how society see

Have spent
Most of my life
In hiding.

From a violent past
On various fronts
In my life.

Many ways
I feel like
That 7 year old child
Who fled home
On her bike.

As the village boys
Threatened her
With shunning
And violence.

In wanting 
To be
Wonder Woman.

Playing super heroes.

To reemerge
Twenty-eight years later
As an adult.

To fight
A brutal war
On several levels
For my very survival
Over the past 11+ years.

As a person
With true value
And meaning.

Every milestone is
A victory
Over the darkness
In my life.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Today (Monday, September 12, 2016), I read about the early death of Alexis Arquette, who died, from complication from AIDS. One of the many daemons that plague my community, like mental illness and self-medicating with drugs and alcohol. May we all find true enlightenment and knowledge, for having people, like Alexis, in our lives. Thank you Alexis.

Friday, 9 September 2016

Balancing My Needs (September 9, 2016)

A weary sigh
As apprehension 
Fills me.

Am I letting 
Too much
Of my life

Have had others 
Use my past
As a blunt weapon
Against me.

Some may view
This admittance
As a paradox.

The open nature
Of my poetry.

To heal
I must be open
And honest
About my experiences.

In releasing
Many years
Of suppressed memories.

Complete healing
Of those partially 
Healed wounds
I have.

How does one
Do this
Without revealing
Too much?

A question
I am struggling
To answer.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Am I, being paranoid, for feeling this way? I know, I have major trust issues, with people, as I have, in the past, been involved, with those, who have abused my openness, for their own selfish needs. For I need to move forward, in my life, without constantly looking over my "shoulders", for an ambush or two.

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