Thursday, 31 August 2017

Thursday morning thoughts (August 31, 2017)

Gray skies
Fills the morning view.

As if
Someone had forgotten
To tell Mother Nature
It's still summertime.

And not

Next Tuesday
The kids go back
To school.

Are the falling tears
The raindrops
Of nature?

She sheds
With hope and lost
For the coming years.

Drowning us
In a seemingly endless deluge
A wall of water
That falls
Day after day.

Like a colony
Of drowned rats
We crawl forward
Towards the tunnel
Of muted light.

Moving blindly
Into the muddle
We call
The future.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: My second new poem that I have written since July 1st.

Saturday, 26 August 2017

A Dream Postponed (May 10, 2017)

To some people
I am
A freak.

Who dreams
Of giving birth
To my own children.


Genetics stopped
That biological clock
At conception.

Without great risk
To myself
Or my developing child
Outside of the womb.

How do I explain
To you
This feeling
Of incompleteness
I have.

In the early days
Of the late 1920's
And early 1930's
Doctors would've transplanted
Female reproductive system
From cadaver donours.

My chance
Of a normal pregnancy.

At great cost
Of rejection
For the transplanted organs.

Unlike today
Tissue typing
Wasn't done.

And anti-rejection drugs
Weren't developed

As many transwomen died
From the shock
Of organ rejection.

And still
This siren call
Beckons me

Of one day
Being able to hold
This bundle of joy
With stem cell research.

We are cis
Or transwomen.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Given my age and medical condition, this remains a dream for me.  

Wednesday, 16 August 2017

A Small Act Of Defiance (August 16, 2017)

I have travelled
The darkest path
Of one's soul.

Where hope is
A distance shore
Out of reach
To the outstretch hand.

Waking up
And getting dress
Are major achievements
On a daily basis.

Most people take
For granted.

Not for me.

As I sit
Before a library computer
Typing this out.

Struggling against
My fight/flight instinct
To runaway
From here.

To the safety
Of my apartment
With Venus Squeak
And Star.

By surrendering
To that act
Am giving
My anxiety and depression
Another victory
Over my soul.

Keeping me
A hostage
To the mental illnesses
I live with
On a daily basis.

So I ask you
Not to make this
A mountain
Out of a mole hole.

Sit by me
And say
"Good job Therisa".

Nothing more.

Therisa © 2017

Author's note: Since last November (2016), I have been struggling with my chronic depression, which has refused to leave me, in March. Turning my fall/winter bout of depression, into a 9 month ordeal for me. Over the past weekend, I have started another prose project, which for me, is a huge step forward. Not sure where it will take me, but anywhere is better that staring at a blank screen, like a zombie.

Wednesday, 2 August 2017

Early morning Thoughts (August 24, 2012)

Am feeling
History's long fingers
Waking my tired soul.

Another night passes
In the wee hours
Of the coming morn.

Where normal people
Are deep
In their REM sleep.

Except me.

It's 3 am
Sitting on my bed
Pouring my soul
Across the digital divide.

Wanting to turn
The impossible
Into the possible.

Where everything isn't
An unstable liquid
To the touch.

Fueled by
An overactive
And creative mind.

In leaving
These dark memories
In the past.

Not surfacing
In panic attacks
Or prolonged bouts
Of depression.

Am so tired
Having to take
A regimen of pills
To be "normal".

Short term success.

At all.

Therisa © 2012

Author's note: Another poem from my poetic morgue. I wrote this, during a time of severe side effects from one of my numerous anti-depressants that I have taken, over the years. 

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