My easel, has been asleep
for a while, like a whale
on the lost deep seas
finding a prey
to victimise
to sate the belly full.

Your easel, sees in my eyes
the robbers on the blink*
of an unruly end
finding recognition
in social media
to favor ego
to sate the belly full.

Your easel, is a mellow fine lens
Hands in line holding a gun
set a trigger, to silence the crowds
the doom in the public cruise
trollers and vipers with wipers
to sate the belly full

What have we come to dear friend?
we seek fame and lose our self
to the shadows of the masses
who denude our dignity
to gain their sanity
to sate the belly full

What have we come to dear friend?
in the spaces of the contours between
dehumanised by the social media
the medium of the century voice
the armageddon of currency
*that sate to fill it's belly

I almost don’t want to voice my opinion
because I like staying in the back of the mix
but it’s hard to do.
Straight from the mind, the mouth,
of a transgendered person,
this is honesty.
I know that there are a lot of people going on about the bathroom laws right now.
It’s ridiculous we even have to get to laws for bathrooms.
They’re for
elimination,
but it generally doesn’t stay at that.
Gossip, vomiting, crying, ****, ******, etc. Things you’ll most likely, in this century, find in the walls of bathrooms.
People are posting the meme, about the ******. Trying to mix it in with these laws.
A ******,
who is a man,
and someone who is transgender, don’t fall into the same category, and even if it’s made to better the judgement of hate and redirect the criticism of keeping transgender people in a specific bathroom,
don’t compare.
Because he is a male, he is a ******.
We are not the same.
Now, recently, people are posting about the mass shooting and connecting the two.
Saying how the last thing they want to hear about is how dangerous a transgender person is in bathroom now.
And they’re correct, because it’s always the last thing on my mind. I hate myself, so you don’t have to.
I have enough hate in me for myself so everyone can leave me be, knowing its strong enough.
I don’t want to be me, I don’t want to be like I am and I live with that everyday. I haven’t been able to make peace with myself and love myself, yet.
But I hope I can eventually.
I just wanted to put this out there, so people can see this side of things. From someone who is transgender.
The last thing on my mind in the bathroom is: you.
I do not want contact with anyone in there.
I fear you. I am scared to be there.
I feel threatened. I feel in danger, not you.
You should be ashamed to feel such resentment towards someone you don’t even know, because I am in the one in danger, not you.
I feel ashamed I am afraid of you and that is embarrassing to say,
but I am.
So don’t dare make it about your safety, because you are the last thing on my mind,
I promise you that.
Being misgendered, being *****, being beaten, being murdered, slandered, assaulted, accused, uncertain, hated, dehumanised, alone.
Fear.
These are what I am thinking about when all I have to do is ***, but all I wanted to have to do was get groceries.
Or get McDonald’s, get cat food, my car fixed, an outfit, take my husband lunch, take my daughter to the park, etc.
I have a family I love, very much.
So yeah, you are the last thing on my mind when I just have to use the bathroom, and don’t even want to need to use one in public because I am so afraid for my safety and wondering if this time, is going to be the last time I walk in one and don’t get to go home to my family because of who I am.
I am sure people have reasons to fear what they won’t know or understand,
but understand this.
I know you have your own fears and your own needs and expectations, but so do I.
Don’t fear me, in the bathroom, because my fear is actually greater than yours,
I promise you that.
And honestly, that is the last on my mind, anyway.
**I just have to ***.

These words you speak
These words you spin
Have infinite meaning
A definitive substance
Inject my mind
Flipping the norm
Unravel all the lies
They fed to us


Unlock my mind, unwind my eyes
Take me out of this boxes, boxes
Erecting all around me
Untwist my tongue, deject my terms
Pull me out of the sinking crane
Piloting all around me

Who gives the ****?
Just give me a fact
All 7 billions souls unique
This linear life is meaningless
Fictions to act
One day I am frog the next a beauty

The mystery of the dark
All shrugged in blanks
They say its locked in your head
A crazy existence
Dehumanised to decay
The police can’t even help

Contagious,
to the point of extinction,
Nerve racking,
Part of our own
subliminal illusion.

We have become poisoned
by the Social Media,
dehumanised,
unrealistic
and falsely optimistic.

Departed from our minds
structured like chemical products,
in this elusive society
that we embrace with blindness.

We have become strangers,
strangers in our own bodies
as old philosophies die
and we embrace the loneliness.

Experiments of corporations
muppets of governments,
products of our own minds.

Energies floating,
intestines bloating,

Hearts unfulfilled,
And lives not well lived.

How long do we still have?

my heart bleeds for the Lost Children of Tomorrow
cut down in their infant prime
a community broken by sorrow
families in turmoil
united, saddened, enraged and loyal.

what happened in Connecticut the other day
is just ******* wrong
I rarely swear in my poems
but the feelings too strong
I struggle to express
20 children killed
lest, the very thought
leaves the spine frozen and chilled

Im not one to be political
and this poem isn't satirical
we talk about the Lost Children of America
but what of the Lost Children of Gaza
200 killed, bombed and shot
in their schools, in their homes, in the plaza
do we protest that these atrocities must stop?
we outcry at the public consumption of guns
but are we fickle to which news story
that leaves us shell shocked and stunned

perhaps we have become dehumanised
to the daily statistics of death;
we should write eulogies
for all the Lost Children of Tomorrow
not just for those from the West

my heart bleeds for the Lost Children of Tomorrow
cut down in their infant prime
leaves a world broken by sorrow
in a race against time
lets not forget the other nations
at this time of giving;
we should be a race united
for the love & for the living

I shed a tear let it not be for nothing
please do not scan read the poems meaning
or dismiss it as poor verse
because it demands of your feelings;
if the emotions were blood vessels
the arteries would burst

we are all poets here
with words to share
put our hearts online
our emotions laid bare
I ask very little of you
Only,
lets not forget the many
when we eulogise the few

What have I done but obey the cynical dogma that plagues the patriots?
(then to be rewarded with the cutting rattle of the guns
that dehumanised the holiest saints.
MIA the pawn who obeyed.)

Can we sacrifice to "the Cause", for the end?
(without the other side sacrificing more.
Men should press toward the enemy.
We will win because ten minus one equals nine
Rip the glorified general.)

Possibly **** the man I call brother for hesitation.
(with the gun that conscripted me to his side.
"killed for the disobeying of orders".
They will say that I was a traitor
But never a man of his country
RIP the brother that hesitated.)

Justify the sin that will be forced upon my brother.
(As I will not commit the sun that will be forced upon me.
RIP the holy deserter.)

The multination of a child.
(Thats what Devils do.
That's what they did to me.
Destroying what I took for granted.
RIP the young amputee.)

Glorification of the war as some sort of game.
("Come sign up you be a hero"
I lied in front of them
But back then I even believed myself.
RIP the gulibal propagandist)

In war winning is living
(Yet not a one I am willing to play.
RIP the veteran)

Destruction of the family tree
(Destiny was not prepared for the irrational.
RIP the mother that worried)

What can possibly justify the glorification in destruction?

I’m a walking insult.
I’m a *******.
I’m a ******* mistake.

No, that felt too dignifying.

Is that more than what I deserve?

Did that make you laugh?

Your jokes describe me too well.

I nod with every letter said.

I feel my face flush scarlet

So ashamed I change —

real defining clue of myself —

like a snake skin sheds.

I want to be dehumanised.

I  want to be violated

I want them to forget me.

I want to be an empty vessel.

I want to slit my throat.

I don’t want your warm affection.

Now my dreams echo hollow.
Every night, my head against the pillow,
revising every morsel I swallowed,
hoping there is no tomorrow —

As I walk to join the hanging bodies in the gallows.
They laugh and frolic in the sun with their slim waists.

You say I’m kind. Considerate,

but I just want your validation.

I’m a narcissist to the core.

Hope I’m not the bile in your throat,

or the acid that burns your hollow heart.

Did that make you laugh?

Petty, petty liars
With their pretty fliers

Promising relation
Of dehumanised formation

Asked, given, but not forgiven.
Taken, gotten, but not forgotten.

Sickly sweet odour of cheap perfume hangs in the air.
From the third floor widow she stares wistfully to the street below.
Crowded with shoppers, lovers, diners and meanderers.
Clutching brightly coloured bags stuffed with all manner of trivialities.
She turns away, surveying her personal hell.
Crimson taffeta bedding creating a gaudy yet stark centrepiece against stained grey walls.
Where men, one after the other set sail on a voyage paid for by the hour.
A far cry from her childhood dreams - oh the naivety of youth!...
She smiles a bitter smile....her reflection in the mirror tells nothing of the angst deep within.
Of the dreams now crushed...hopes scattered like the petals of a dying rose.
The road ahead desolate and bleak.
No sweet memories to carry with her from the path she walked before.
Emptiness and blackness.. hidden by the thin veneer of the street girl.
The provocative clothing and makeup distraction enough for the men who seek to forget.
Her body a welcome release from their comfortable yet mundane lives.
Caring not for the flicker of sadness and desperation they see in her painted eyes.
Seeking only to quell their own thirst, before their return to middle class suburbia.
Gaze carefully averted from the track marked arm that reaches out to take her fee.
**** already calling her phone, eager for the next client to take his fill.
Needle at the ready to pump her vein full of mind numbing poison.
Desensitised and dehumanised, his control absolute.
She longs for the release that only death can bring.
Even that is beyond her reach, her movements watched around the clock.
Shoulders slumped she replaces the bed sheet.
The door opens and once again she smiles her empty lipstick smile.
****** drenched mind now dull, compliant.
Ravaged body, skeletal thin.. still of use.. for now.
Before she joins the others that were so casually used and discarded.
Their bodies wrapped in black plastic and weighted down with stones.
Cast out to a watery grave.....
In death comes sweet release.

Auld lang syne
    after the midnight of 31st December 2016
    the world stopped short
    the New Year to usher in--

    every past century met its end
    hopes blown to the wind
    'A happier world we seek'
     a slogan on every heart pinned

     only to come into rude wakening
     for man's nature would not change
     power, greed, violence, conflict and war
     was the bane of the times---strange

     in the midst of so-called progress
     and mankind claiming to have come
     to its own?  To the same cry of despair
     the tragedy and the desolation to succumb

     2017 will lead to year 3000 before long
    what would be the outcome?
     the century is sinking fast--verily--
     a thousand times worse would be the sum

     the young would no longer have dreams
    the old would have seen it all and be emotionally dumb
    nature would have been dehumanised and lost all her beauty
    savagery and destruction would replace every calm.

Poor, but dignified
wealthy, but dehumanised
which then is
to be prized?

preyed upon
judged
sentenced

folks without guns
babes in arms
male and female

made sport of
dehumanised
considered inferior

No one
could put a halt
or bury an idea
which has found
its time and is bold
enough to shatter
the very foundation
of  falsehood
that has kept
mankind captive
and deceived
the most intellectual
of minds-

the game
is over
no more
the charade-
truth shall rise
to set
in a new era
and the die
shall be
inexorably cast-

lies shall die
the mask
of false prophets
shall be stripped-
no longer
shall life
be dehumanised:
a new voice
shall echo
over every corner
there shall
be a new order
that all mankind
shall readily embrace
and trust