Activism All Writing Poetry Pride Response Thoughts

Colourful Queers

I wrote this while at the BLM Pride protest in Schenectady, NY this afternoon. I hope that you enjoy.


Colourful Queers
Facing their fears,
and being their true selves,
are the bravest beings on the planet.
Stronger than Granite.

We will not break,
because, like that book that you use to condemn,
We are stronger by standing together

Or not you accept us,
Or think we are sus,

We will stand strong,
long after your bigoted laws are gone.

Reaching for the joy that life has to offer,
Even though all you proffer
Is hate, fear, and bigoted lies.
We will stand tall
even amidst your looks of despise.
We will not fall

We exist.
We resist.
We fight.
We are in the right.
We bring the light.

Poetry Response Thoughts Transgender

You Are Wrong

and Magnificent,

Are words that are seldom used
to describe beings like me.
Instead, the phrases describing us
border on abuse.

Facts, not feelings, these bigots shout,
Except, to them, facts have no clout.
We give them hundreds of studies and peer reviewed journals,
That show we are right,
All we get in response are jeers.

The facts they are talking about, are the ones that a badly mistranslated book supposedly says,
But when using that same source to refute their gobbledygook,
We get mocked even more.

Which is it, we cry in frustration.
We don’t want adoration.
All we want is to be seen for who we are,
Not for what some bigoted people with their heads so far,
In the past, that the world is still flat, believe of us.


Are all part of us,
Not even counting on the trust,
That our experiences prove we exist,
And our validity,
Is true and just.

All Writing Poetry Thoughts Transgender

Let your being fly free

Who is the one that you are?

Are they near

Or are they far?

What has kept you from finding them?

I would guess that it is fear.

Do you really want to live your life for someone else,

Giving up parts of yourself with nothing in return?

Instead, why not be true,

instead of letting your heart and mind constantly churn

With thoughts, hopes, and dreams, of what you wish you could be,

Let your being fly free.

The ones that matter

Won’t mind

And the ones that mind

Will scatter.

You are given but one life to live

(As far as we know)

Why would you make it all a show?

I am done with the Hypocrisy,

No longer making a mockery

Of who I am,

And living a sham.

Won’t you join me

In being free?

All Writing Mental Health Poetry Suicide Thoughts

Press on!











All of these and more,

Are what life has in store

For those that continue the ride

Even when it feels like everything has been tried.

I say to you my friend,

Press on!

This is not the end,

This is barely the beginning.

Even though your head, heart, and soul may be spinning

With 1000s of thoughts, regrets, broken dreams and promises,

Press on!

The victory comes not in what you have,

But how you affect the world and the people around you.

How many souls have you changed by simply being true?

To yourself, your values, your dreams

Despite the pain, the tears, and the screams?

Press on!

The world would be a darker place without your shining light,

Even when all you see is night.

Remember, it is darkest before the dawn.

Press on!

No matter the pain you may be in,

There are people whose only respite from the din

Is spending a few moments in your presence.

It may feel like Hell to you,

Simply existing,

But to them, you bring all of the light of all religions Heavens!

Press on!

You may believe in Gods and the afterlife,

Or you may not,

Either is fine.

If you let the dark in the world outlast the shine,

And let your last chance sputter and turn to rust,

Your affect on the world will turn to dust.

Press on!

You are loved,

You are appreciated,

You make a difference,

You matter,

And you will be missed.

Press on.

All Writing Poetry Random Thoughts

Focusing On The Gurney

What is the meaning
Of all of the unknowns,
And how do you find
In what direction it leans?

Finding direction in a world
So scattered and cold
Filled with issues so burled
It seems insurmountable, when everything
Is bought and sold.

How can you place value on
and love,
When it seems as if friendly cooperation is gone
from existence, and crushed from above?

These are the things that seem impossible
and how do we survive…
Let alone thrive?

and pushing the implausible
and making it reality.

Finding people, places, and things,
That have fallen through the cracks
and giving them wings
to fly
and don’t believe the lie
Helping out in the lacks
in this world of ours
No matter the hours
the joy is in the journey.

Not focusing on the gurney,
but the beauty
of being true to you;
not what some self-involved cutie
tells you to be true.

Be you:

All Writing Poetry Thoughts Transgender

Arising from the corpse

Vanquished, lying in the dirt,
No more energy left.
Unable to give any more to his facade
made of dreams, wishes, and ideals.

Totally bereft,
And done with the lies of his God
of times past.

Arising from the corpse,
She emerges at last.
She cannot hide herself anymore,
no matter the consequences,
She is who he truly was at his core.

She is finally able to be seen and heard,
Even with the pain and controversy,
She may face, simply for existing.

It took her decades to be strong enough,
and rise to the top, and speak a word,
To finally break out, despite his resisting.

Is it truly living
To be a person cloaked in masks of fear?
It will all be made clear.

Removing the armor of a lifetime
will take more strength than he had,
but she is stronger than he ever thought.

Her life may be fraught,
With struggle, pain, and debates
on whether she truly ought
to be allowed

To Live.
To Love.
To Be Free.
To be Me.

All Writing Poetry Random Thoughts Transgender

Nurture, Nature, or Trauma?


How was I created:
Nurture, Nature, or Trauma?
I have traded
So much of myself, to avoid drama.

No more.

It is time to even the score.
No longer will I minimize myself
And place who I really am upon the shelf.

Spending all of my energy
Avoiding being me.
Finding the truth in who I am,
Is not quiet, like a lamb,
But loud, violent, and messy.

Nevertheless, she
And insists

To be heard.
Finally, she is free as a bird.

No longer weighed down
By a soul level frown.

Ever onward, ever upward,
Searching for what is yet to be uncovered.

All Writing Poetry Random Thoughts Transgender

Beating the Screams Out of My Dreams

Beating the screams

Out of my dreams,

Destroying the vision of what I have been

Time to buck this trend.
Where am I going, where will this lead?
No idea, but going to make this world bleed

Not in a violent way,

but adding colour to my world of grey.

Time keeps ticking on, as I re-create myself;

Taking things I ignored off of the shelf.
Building speed like a grain of sand
Picking up things that I rejected off-hand,
as being implausible or simply laughable.

Instead, all of these thoughts, hopes, and fantasies,
That I believed to simply be fallacies…
Hold more truth inside than a jaded bride.

Come to find out, I am all of the things that I rejected

and ignoring them simply left me feeling dejected,
While embracing the confusing and unknown
brought the light in and gave me dominion upon my new throne.

All Writing Poetry Thoughts Transgender

What dreams may come

This is a poem that I wrote a few weeks ago about the last year, and coming to terms that I am a Transgender Woman. Hope that you enjoy (Copyright 2019 under Creative Commons).

Am I right
In taking flight?

In being true to myself
I have had to break the old
Conceptions of what is true
And Be Bold.

Destroying Ideas of what I thought
And rebuilding myself through and through.
The final product can’t be bought,
Except with blood, sweat, and tears
Facing fears
That I didn’t even know existed
So many feelings and emotions…
Too many to be listed.
Pain, loneliness, despair,
Joy, peace, contentment

All of these and more running through the air,
I finally feel free
To be me
What dreams may come
I do not know
Finally taking myself out from under the thumb
Of what I should be, and look like.

This has been coming to a head,
Since I was a little tyke.
I can finally let the shackles of dread
Fall from my psyche.

I can conclusively say
That I was living myself as a shadow
Version of my true self.
That person was real
Don’t get me wrong,
But not the same as who she became on the morrow.
No longer so much weighing down on his brow.

Who am I to become, I do not know,
But I do know that now I can grow.

I was stuck,
Pretending to be moving forward,
When, in all actuality,
I was burning and charred,
Not far from Shao Kahn announcing, “Fatality!”

Floundering, lost in an ocean of confusion,
But safe and protected
Because I now have a vision
Of what direction in which to travel
Allowing the false image to finally unravel.

Being helped on the path by a team
That does not understand,
But is there to help me find my dream…
And wherever it may land.

All Writing Poetry Random Thoughts

The swinging of my soul

I wrote this back in 2009 – originally posted on my DeviantArt.

Like the earth floating through the atmosphere
or man as he searches for the truth,
the beginning of the ending,
nothing is clear…

What is happening now, nothing makes sense
I don’t know what’s going on
Please lift the drifting, dripping fog
from over my kind of guy,
the kind that is so intense
that he understands everyone, and no one at exactly the same time…

Love, Hate, Familiarity, Obstinacy, Distance, Closeness…
And Me…