Update and Correction:

Just now, I discovered that I got the age of the deceased victim wrong…he was 42, not 15.  I am not sure what the article I had read was talking about, but it was my error.  In the meantime, I am very grieved to report that the “pastor” who caused so much hurt and pain, and took the Precious Name of God in vanity to serve his own prideful and sinful black heart roped in self-righteous rags, has doubled down on his error…and boasts that he is standing on the word of God!  Trampling over it underfoot is more like it.

I remain in sorrowful awe at this towering blindness and arrogance.


I hate that Robin Williams and I have something in common

I hate that Robin Williams and I have something in common.


I have to post this, by Transgirl at the Cross.

It is about Robin Williams taking his own life, depression, and the disproportionately, tragically high suicide rate amongst transgender people.

Please know…this is real, the black hole that gapes, its teeth sharp and hungry and dully glinting in the dark.  Its breath is foul, but its breathing is hypnotizing, intoxicating and seductive…

I know…I have been there, mesmerized in its presence and mind filled with visions of pain finally stopping and rejection finally ending and never ever feeling fractured and ugly and worthless ever again…I thank God for Their preservation!  They were always there, protecting me, activating Their word within my heart, and ever always placing in my heart the faces of my beloved family.  Haunted, remember?

If you are out there reading this, and you have despaired and given up, please…go see someone, call someone!  Your brain chemistry is messed up and the cycle of thoughts and feelings and off balance chemistry feeds itself in an unholy fusion reaction od death.  You will never regret walking away from that dark place…and even better, you will find out just how much you are loved and cherished.

If you are reading this, and you know someone who is in that place of horror, go to them!  Take their hand, and lead them to a place that specializes in helping the despairing.  You will be saving a life.

And if you are reading this, and you smirk in pride and lord it over the weak, then humble yourself, and fall on the Rock and be broken, lest the Rock fall on you and grind you to powder.

I am mourning tonight…weeping for Robin.  He did a stint of rehab out where I live, and he is a cyclist, as am I.  Word was he was out, riding…often.  I used to pray that I would be able to run across him, and share with him the Love of Jesus the Merciful, and Lady Grace the Compassionate and the Father so Just and Pure.

I never did.

Now he is gone…and we are here, those who didn’t even know him and weep…and those who knew him deeply and fully, and feel as if they will never laugh again.

In Sorrow and Ashes,



Sleeping Skin to Skin

Somewhere in the dark,
in the warmth of black-red
before we woke up swimming,
surfing sultry heartbeats and
waves of new bones growing
green and rooty-fibrous,
we navigated bold our
seas secure and buoyant,
our universe and listened…

 to…things beyond…a world…
somewhere? Out there.

Sounds moving and flowing,
deep, high, in-between
and all things came to us,
there, turning in the tides
of the primeval pools
of ancient new beginnings…

 and so we safely rested…sleeping skin to skin.

As time stood still, there always,
and we went rushing, tossing
thru cataracts and canyons
across the woolly wild-land
of years that tug us forward,
and push hard from behind,
we came thru like otters
in our wedded frolic,
our hurtling thru history,
unseen and secrets heard…
our buoyant whispers crossing

 a…vast gulf…a schism…
something? Out there.

Thru skin so thin, translucent
like milk or bridal veils,
we felt, we knew for certain,
beneath the crystal cataracts
that cloaked our singing souls,
we ate at tables there,
delighted and so dizzy
from seeing with hands only
and feeling with hearts lonely
and then, content and answered,
and with our bright eyes open…

we lay together, mingled…sleeping skin to skin.

Now, in this shining dark-red
of knowing and becoming,
tethered strong and vital
to That shore over there,
to That bright land “Before”,
our food and drink comes foreign
and yet familiar, tasting
of places ever ancient yet
forever fresh and reeking
with incense always burning
from when the Song and Singer
ignited flames of union.
Our hands reach, grope, entwine
to mirror hearts and lives
that grappled with this grief
and grasped instead the Grace of
that birth, that dissolution
of two lives into one life.

We lay each night and cast away,
in practice for that Voyage
Last and Final, beckoning,
echoing births transcended,
our hearts become a heart,

and it is well here…sleeping skin to skin

Sleeping skin to skin


Society’s Dismissal and Dehumanization of Trans Women

While I am still invested in concealing myself in certain societal stratas, I do share with Janet a growing awareness of the many facets of being.  And a growing awareness of the ways in which I have been othered and policed…both as trans and as a woman.

“My assignment at birth is only one facet of my identity, one that I am no longer invested in concealing. Acknowledging this fact and how it has shaped my understanding of self has given me the power the challenge the ways in which we judge, discriminate, and stigmatize women based on bodily differences. The media’s insatiable appetite for transsexual women’s bodies contributes to the systematic othering of trans women as modern-day freak shows, portrayals that validate and feed society’s dismissal and dehumanization of trans women.”

-Janet Mock, Redefining Realness


On the Stigmatization of Gender-Variant People

“As long as trans women are seen as less desirable, illegitimate, devalued women, then men will continue to frame their attraction to us as secret, shameful, and stigmatized, limiting their sexual interactions with trans women to pornography and prostitution.

And if a trans woman believes that the only way she can share intimate space with a man is through secret hookups or transactions, she will be led to engage in risky sexual behaviors that make her more vulnerable to criminalization, disease, and violence; she will be led to coddle a man who takes out his frustrations about his sexuality on her with his fists; she will be led to question whether she’s worthy enough to protect herself with a condom when a man tells her he loves her; she will be led to believe that she is not worthy of being seen and must remain hidden.”

-Janet Mock, Redefining Realness