Suffragette of Sight

They leave marks, tears.  Look.
You can see them if you stand
eyes akimbo and uncrossed from normal.
They don’t show if you look usual-like.

But they shimmer
like living starry
liquid songs of sorrow
They sparkle in sideways-sight,
like limpid diamonds heaped

across the face of the earth.

Sometimes, if you walk around
with your eyes uncrossed
you will bump into people
that are invisible in this land,
the ones who choke their tear-spring
with furious fingers

so they don’t show up seeable.
They don’t glimmer and gleam.
Some sorrows are too deep,
so when this happens, you must

reach into your bag
and sprinkle them
with tear dust.

I’ve been practicing this
diagonal walk, shambling
hither and yon
whispering “Marco”
and straining to hear
the reply.

It’s like my
sonar of sorrow,
I guess,
to navigating
these strange seas
of lambent woe.

And I never wash my face anymore…
I have a theory:
let my tears dry
on my cheeks,
my lips, and they
will end up

tattooing my heart,
marking me Maori-like
as blessed, a
Suffragette of sight.



Can’t Cry Hard Enough

The shell is brittle…
like dry bones fallen like leaves
from the table of bone.

It clasps,
grasps, and
feeds on my
gristly gasps
with my every breath,
every sob…

…and I can’t cry hard enough.

They must be pierced,
these bone-shield
prison walls that comfort
and secure me safe.
She is knocking…
knocking over my defenses
and my usual.
But it hurts so…

…and I can’t cry hard enough.

Discovery’s pain is surpassed
only by the pain of hiding,
and what terror there is
as She sees,
and knows.
She reaches,
and grows,
and tears me
out of myself
into Life…

…and I can’t cry hard enough.

“Today’s tears are tomorrow’s treasured triumphs, ‘Rissa!”
shouts my Mama,
Lady Grace,
Queen of Grace,
Heart of God
to God & man.
She promises victory,
and being,
and glad Joy…

…and I can’t cry hard enough.


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.


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.