The raucous room and wine, rollicking around us
awash in social currents and plumage all fanned out
and passers by drifted close to take a look and then
shifted chins and rolling eye to sit jowl to jowl and nook to crook.
(Donne wasn’t talking about trans-folk when he quipped
“no man is an island”, for I was a life boat drifting on an endless sea
and stranded, the fishies below and the birdies above
and me no water to drink in the midst of many waters)
tables full and over full, like bellies and wine glasses
which were groaning and clinking atonal and rhythmic
choruses echoed in this gathered congregation of the goddess Socializing
and her consort mammon to whom offerings would be made of time and treasure
Ah, but look…and see our dingy, drifting on desert seas entire
in this oasis of walled off spaces, our puffed up air-filled punt
the good ship “I Alone Survived” bobbed high and pristine, clean, in order
midst the merry chaos and the choruses of othering swelling with the music
perhaps we were mistaken as tee-totalers of banquets,
or the step children vegan and red headed in the throng.
OH! the weight watchers attending but on such a strict repast
that we were tasked to come and eat the food but fast the feasts of friends.
We sit alone, apart (the better to stare at you, my dear) in this overcrowded room
full of overcrowded tables, one there in the middle overcrowded by blank emptiness
occupied by someone glowing shining sparking becoming but accounted as a
lost placeholder only, and the one who loves her there, sitting side by side and stark.
It’s a long and lonely desert trudge, and not all deserts dunes…
sometimes deserts teem with life and trees and nights under soft moons
but the doors are locked, the gates are hidden deep in mystery
of how a transgirl finds her way and what becomes her key
To walk amidst the forests, in the fields of human kindness
there to forage for the herbs medicinal to cure that blindness
and to find that song, the notes to open up locked hearts, deaf ears
until then the Other will go forth, sowing in tears…
“…Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. She who continually goes forth weeping, bearing seed for sowing, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing her sheaves with her.”
Psalms 126:5-6
*gender pronouns altered, meaning not violated)
Charissa's Grace Notes 
This is so painful 😦
Any Other reason for being “the weight watchers of feasts”??
Please say there’s another ❤
wait what? Hmm…wracking my pea brain…is there a hidden joke I am missing? (forgive me my snappy clarity is not so snappy and clear)…there is no hidden message there that I am conscious of? Other than I think I am too fat! lol
I was trying to think of a good metaphor for the actual banquet we were at, that’s all.
Spill, Sis…giggle! Catch up this benighted dullard!
❤
Oh also Dani…re read…last nite I captured the moment while there, via mobile…this morning I made it into a more fully fleshed out poem. The line is now
“perhaps we were mistaken as tee-totalers of banquets,
or the step children vegan and red headed in the throng.
OH! the weight watchers attending but on such a strict repast
that we were tasked to come and eat the food but fast the feasts of friends.”
Wow!!
“…but the doors are locked, the gates are hidden deep in mystery
of how a transgirl finds her way and what becomes her key…”
Yes, more fully fleshed out. Truly.
The images were heartbreaking. People Chose where to sit, I take it.?.?
okay, that was the worst. NO!! It was assigned seating!! We were shown to our seats, and sat, the first to arrive…others would approach, stop and casually veer off. Everyone their are all cronies, so that was when we noticed other tables over crowded.
Officially, the people who bought the table just didn’t show…but that was 2 people, a local couple.
We are being asked to believe that every other person, randomly assigned to that table, didn’t show as well?
I did talk to the organizer after, and will make a post about that soon.
PS; but what was the weight watchers inside joke? I am puzzled on that now! lol
I have often told my kids- ‘if they don’t want to be here, we don’t want them here.” We have stood by that in every situation. We are much happier without those people who would only bring us down with their presence. And now that they seem to be pushing their way back in and forcing their own issues on us, we really do realize how much we have not missed it.
It’s horrible that you two were there alone at that table. It should not have happened like that and it makes my heart break to look at those photos- just as they did the first time I saw them.
Keep writing. Write it out. That’s all I can say. Write it out. (And know that you are not alone.)
I will Kat…I mean, look at the difference in the bare bones poem I posted last nite and the way I developed it today.
I am gaining in strength and confidence today…Mama is great and a great ally…and karma is only a bitch if you are one, which I am not…I am imperfect, but kind and that is the butt honest truth, and no I am not bragging!
Listen…I aim to make a difference. Truly. I aim to make a way…for someone else, someone little and abandoned. Join me, Sissa…for real. Let’s be present, substantial. Let’s be tinfoil in their teeth.
Let’s be unavoidable and inescapable!
And let’s be connected, you and me…blessed to be drawn together and determined not to squander our opportunities on fears and anxieties and compromise un wisely with those who will never compromise.
“And let’s be connected…..”
Yes, let’s. 🙂
awww!!! YES! 🙂 and ❤ times a million
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