A Spoonful Of Sugar

Can
you swallow
the bitter pill?
The pill that’s come
to dull our conscience,
cushion comfort, corners
nipped just so, sides longer
than tops and bottoms,
that exquisite little
emerald coffin-
shaped bitter
little
pill?

Life’s
fragility, life’s
impermanence,
life’s intertwinement
with imperfection and
disappointment—bitter
medicines (or are they drugs)

a realization of dread and
despair.  I wonder if those
crooning songs seduce,
induce indulgence
in an orgy of
escape into
the haze
of
narcissism…

or if they masquerade as friends to draw close,
sidling up so near to shove those pills dry
down our throats in rough and rooting
thrusting fingers ripping without a
drink to help them go down and
we, our own spoonful of sugar…
until we lie in thrall to
those fell jailers…no


enthralled to
no one but
ourself

that bitter
little
pill

Dread and Presences

Dread.

I feel it still.
Laying

at the base
of my throat
and throbbing dully,
quietly slumbering

with one leering eye
cocked open always
and leaning towards
my heart.

My heart…
chipped and worked,
touched and chilled
by the frozen fingers
of dread and

shards of it lay scattered
at my feet clear,
jagged glimmering
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I step to the rail and look back
peering intently into the fog
thick and lingering, but
2014 is shrouded, hidden
and if I hadn’t lived it
I wouldn’t have believed it
was anything more
than a dream.

It was a year that hollowed out
thinned out, emptied out
but never declared its intention.

I don’t think it ever knew
or if it even could.

It was a year
without windows
but many doors
and ladies
and tigers.

There is more to life than meets the eye,
more than can be measured
by the senses or a census
but this morning there is just
the fog behind and the early dark
ahead awaiting dawn.

and Dread

and my heart shaped
in its cold hands
and God’s Warm Heart.

Across the prow of my ship
the rain slants and glints
in the deck lights (dark lights)
like silvery needles
sent to stitch
the past and future
together in this moment.

I think of Presences.

Emptiness…
Nothing…
Silences…
Absences…

Love…
Memories…
Hope…
Them…

there and here with me
in time and triumph,
tears and tragedy
but only One
does my heart
awaken in this dawn
and set afire tears
upon my face

a God of grace,
a God of love,
a God of…justice?

Justice.
I don’t even know where
to start with that!

I face forward
into dawn’s early light

empty,
confused,
seeking,

the way of grace
not effort!

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A very difficult return

Hi Constance…

We travelled last week to the East Coast, for the graduation of our youngest child from Villanova University.  He graduated with honors from the humanities department, with specialities in Philosophy, Theology, Classical Literature, and History.  We are so proud of him, of the growth and maturity it took for him.  I will write more of that later…

…but for now, if you are a regular reader here, then you will know the waves and cycles, ups and downs that transition entails.  It is a lot like regular life (I imagine, I have never known “regular life”), for we all have these moments I suspect.

But I am in a real hard place today…my insides ache so fiercely, and I mourn the return to my place of _____.  I can hardly bear it on good days, the constant stress that I am going to be blindsided by some new betrayal, the worry that people at higher layers will pass blame down the chain and in such a big ______ having no forum to present a different picture.

But on bad days…like today…I want to just die and get it over with.

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Don’t worry…I am not going to do anything precipitous.  I know that my life is not my own in that sense, to take as I will.  And I also know how awful the consequences would be for my beloved and my precious children.

But the time away was so wonderful, so freeing, with no 8 hour plus days of going back into the cell of other people’s gender expectations lest it create such a havoc that we not be able to get _____ done.  And havoc it would be:  the men that I _____ with would freak out.  They already use gay slurs and transvestite slurs regularly as humor…this does not offend me, but it does let me know that I don’t stand a chance of acceptance there.

They have no concept of the difference between a Transgender person and a transvestite. And the few attempts I have made to educate have been thoroughly rebuffed.

It is impossible to explain…the belief would be that I was on some sexual perverted escapade, or “into some freaky shit” (a phrase I once heard to describe someone who had some relational issues shatter them and in search of themselves, they made some pretty bad choices).

My insides are churning.

My soul aches, and is frantic within me to escape, and I want to just have it all over…and in sadness, as now, I don’t “care” how it ends.

Emotion always exacerbates situations…and I choose here, this day, to draw close to Mama, to let my heart pour out to Her as I beg Her to keep me safe, and not let the bullies have at me today.

Most likely, it will be as other times…the day will pass and I will gradually feel better, relieved when nothing major happens…but it seems that the more I taste of the life and freedom that is available to me…the more I experience the joy and wonder and miracle of wholeness, the fresh intimacy with Them, the harder it is to go back.

My worst fear is that I will burst into tears in front of the crew.

Oh God…I am sick inside with dread.  So…if you pray, please keep me in mind today.  I stand in the need, particularly acute this day.  And if you don’t pray, any positive thoughts or good will wishes you have to spare I will gladly receive…I know LG will gather them up and let those petals of positive regard fall upon me today.

Today’s hurt and pain and agony will be the building blocks of Tomorrow’s Triumphs…but for now…I am at the stake, and no where to go.

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