You, the trumpet, Blow!

You, the trumpet, Blow!

When we walk
through this circle
called Earth
rising and falling
ebbing and flowing
coming and going
we see
that
The circle plus time is a sine
with periods
nadirs
awkward moments at parties
being alone amongst millions
the throbbing exultation of love
the cracking desert floor barrenness
of separation

Our impulse is to shun and close
to fight the now and hold our nose

But being open is the bliss
the bliss of mixed up happiness
with pain
The subtle rain of “where’d she go?”
but knowing it’s a rightful woe
We sigh and keep on feeling forward going on

I’ve been a soldier locked up tight inside my chest
I’ve seen my fellow transgirls drown in mess
a mess they didn’t make
towers downed by patriarchal quakes
Oh for holy heavens sakes
we go

We dress like fish who scorn the norm
swimming wrong because it’s right
Inside we blow and feed the lamp,
the fire of queerness they want trumped

Sing loud my fellow sisters sing
We’re the song that unseats kings
You’re the trumpet Jericho fears
The walls of “there are only two genders” will unglue
And all the naked emperors will in blushed embarrassment
resign
to you

This is now the noblest time
Parade with me and sing the line
I am love, and you are too
We’re the future, bold and true

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I am the sun

I am the sun

I am the sun
that got stuck behind the moon
But moons can be moved
with just enough grace
and fire

Driving home from work
watching a YouTube video
on my dash
That’s how the goddess spoke to me

I met a girl four months ago
right after the solar eclipse
She said she doesn’t have any fire in her chart
But I think I stole some anyway

And now there goes the moon
The light is peeking through
I’m all I have
A fiery one who needs no gun
I am the sun

Convicted love

Convicted love

Someone seeming strong
yet coy
a girl I know
I can’t ignore

Like a candle with no matches
I’m cold and dark, alone

oh here how fate conspired
to grow us up apart
I see the angels spinning gold
but now my heart is left and sold
away

come back to me I cry against the bars
my prison of this sober solitude
is right
I know
but when against this slothful clock
will love resume
and bring her back

I love you are the words I write
against the walls within my cage
I’m stripped bereft like a fallen king
I’ll give my crown to turn the page

My struggle as a beat up and sick trans woman with few answers in America. I just want to learn something better

My struggle as a beat up and sick trans woman with few answers in America. I just want to learn something better

I carry so much weight. I pay child support for two children I haven’t seen in six years. It takes up half of my meager salary. I have PTSD from years of alienation. I have social anxiety and sensitivity to noises that can be debilitating. I am transgender, and, well, I have to be a woman in America. I have debt. I have fibromyalgia and fatigue that stab me all day long with weird pains in my neck and back. I have pain in my heart so deep that I lock it up so no one can see it because I’m terrified that if I show my hurt and vulnerability I won’t be able to just keep crawling forward. I’m terrified that if I open my heart, I will fall apart. If I feel, I will fall and never get up. I can’t do this on my own, and I can’t just dump it on other people too. I don’t know how to manage my life. I stagger around in life in a repeating cycle of trying to be this strong woman so this system will give me scraps. I use drugs, alcohol, and medications to propel myself forward in a stupor, carefully managing a cadre of pills upon pills that works for a while and then ultimately ends in total defeat.

I’m afraid to share. Inside I hate my vulnerability. It is the enemy. I hate it in others too because of this. I go to war against myself, and scream at myself inside to get it together or else. I tried killing myself, and death terrified me even more than living. I want to succeed. I want to live. I want to be open. But I don’t know how. My muscles and soul is tired. How do you live when you’ve been whipped and are still whipped daily? I alternate between hating that system and realizing that I’m just internalizing the system’s poison by doing so. The balance is so tight.

I know I’ve done good things with my life, but I’m tired. I’m most likely going to go back into residential treatment because I just don’t know how I’m going to manage my life. If I get a new job am I going to be able to do that without slowly collapsing from the weight? I know I have to succeed and survive. But I’m terrified of being fooled by my brain into more toxic behavior patterns. Depression upon anxiety upon pain upon manipulation upon fear upon doubt upon loss.

I made the decision seven years ago to be more honest with my gender, and that helped, but I’m very poor at certain things. I’ll last for a while and then explode. It was exactly two years ago that I decided to go into residential treatment the last time, and here I am again. Oh well, if that’s what I have to do, then that’s what I have to do. I’m not really super good at sharing my feelings. I’m good at talking, and I usually just talk over my feelings. But insightful people see through that.

I have fear and pain so deep that I’m locked up. So I just leech off of loved ones until they grow resentful. I have to escape this cycle, but right now I don’t know how I can do it. Right now, all I know is that I’m hurting people around me and hurting myself. Addiction is a scourge. I don’t even want to admit I’m an addict because I fear that everyone will run away screaming. How do I do this? I suppose just by getting through today.

She goes as fast as she once came

She goes as fast as she once came

She goes as fast as she once came
the only child of the sinister father, shame
a firebomb to our union because I spied
what fetid purge that’s called her heart
enmeshed in mine

So Go!
Take all your miseries, weeds, and smiles
Your eyes do lie like children
with their mouths all full
you’ve stolen from my multi-chambered cookie jar
too much

But yes I am the fool
for loving such a goat still bleating
I, the one who calls herself wise
found lame
and ignorant
and stupid

And yet I still desire her love, her body, her breath

what dream is this from which I can’t awake
that sings me songs and drives the crooked stake

What I’ve Learned from Living with Chronic Illness

What I’ve Learned from Living with Chronic Illness

Antibiotics are chemotherapy. The word antibiotic means anti life. I have to take some antibiotics right now, and the side-effects are really heavy. I’m feeling very low and drained. But I think it’s the right decision, because I have prostatitis which is related to my fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue immune dysfunction syndrome (CFIDS). I usually just kind of live with it and focus on the positive to not lose my personal power, but right now, the bombs have to be dropped to see if it helps. It sucks, but I’ll get through it.

Honestly, I’ve been thinking pretty heavily about my chronic illness. When I first got sick in my early twenties, I got a lot of resistance from the medical establishment and loved ones. I learned to sort of put it in my private life and not really share it. It’s a very difficult psychological balance to live in a fast world with a “hidden” disability. Our medical tests at present are very poor with detecting what’s going on in lots of chronically ill people, so often the medical establishment just defaults to the “it’s all in your head, take an anti-depressant, and deal with it” approach.

I deal with a ton of symptoms including: cognitive impairment, confusion, deep muscle and joint pain, intense fatigue, depression, anxiety, sensitivity, insomnia, and others. They seem to follow a very irregular pattern and always pop up at the seemingly worst time. It’s something I’ve had to shoulder silently for decades now, and I did reach a point two years ago where I was completely overwhelmed with my health and various other difficulties. But I reached my bottom, and I gave up. I acknowledged my powerlessness, and said “OK, I don’t have control of this situation, but I’m going to keep climbing no matter what. I’m listening and open to learning.”

Dealing with chronic health issues is a very complicated thing because often the best drug is optimism. When you have a poor self-image, a victim mentality, and a “the world is all against me” thought process, it can make you sick. I honestly believe, and the data backs this up, that a lot of my chronic health issues are due to a childhood of trauma and disempowerment. That’s not to say that there are not real, material things at work in my body, but the two factors go together.

My diseases and queerness and losing my children and everything else really broke me, and now I’m happier or more at peace. I don’t care about small things. I’m human, and they bother me, but I soldier on with an understanding that life is pain. I feel disabled in some way, and I have to do a complex set of daily adaptations to handle my various disablements, but that’s ok.

So, I’ve decided that my five year plan is to go back to school to get a Masters in Counseling in some capacity with a focus on the Psychology of Chronic Illness and start working in that field. I think I can help others find balance in a very confusing and overwhelming circumstance, and I feel a real calling to do so. Ultimately, I want to work outside of the medical establishment and integrate my alternative beliefs like the power of ritual and empathic therapy into my practice. But I need the paper to be a “real therapist.” 

There are often not any easy solutions in situations like mine. There is just work and balance. Maybe providence will smile on me, but it’s ok if it doesn’t. I know what it’s like to feel crucified here on Earth, and there is transcendence in letting go and accepting our limitations. There is a tarot card that keeps popping up for me lately: The Hanged Man. In most decks it shows a man hanging upside down, completely suspended and powerless. He has lost all of his earthly power, but in so doing, he sees the world upside down, and he has total spiritual clarity. Life picks us up and turns our lives upside down, and although I’ve seen great loss, pain, and trauma, I’ve grown to see divinity and feel a joy that never dies, even in extreme darkness.