Transcendence.

In Thebes, the origin story of Atum the Creator involved Earth and sky's division into Seth & Nephthys, a third gender; both non-binary, by nature.  

In Greek and Roman antiquity, 

there ruled a Goddess named Cybele, 

whose followers transitioned, famously, from male into females.

Ugandans, once upon a time, raged against restrictive gender norms, as priests and Teso tribesmen preferred prints made for the women in their homes

Adoration filled the eagle-eyed Indigenous tribes in pre-colonial times,

as they celebrated sacred two-spirits who  enhanced their lives.

Hijras have existed, in India, for as long as the festival of lights, 

but it wasn't until this century

that they earned economic rights. 

When Joyita Mondal was elected India's first transgender judge, bangles clinked in thunderous applause. Determined to aid her sisters, she abolished trans-exclusionary laws.

Throughout the his and hers-tory
of the world to date, 

our gentle, gender variant friends 

were visible, and loved.

It wasn't until religion won that 

they were forced into prisons.

What good is false piety,

if all it does is inflict pain?

Why can't these wicked men 

see their prayers are pointless, 

when their palms are stained with blood?

To this day, we sidestep around inclusion in our own communities;
safe spaces only for some,
as they centre on cisnormativity.
Like false apostle wrestlers
who rarely sit and listen,
we landed in a sea of thistles,
silenced like the 'T' in 'LGBT',
and 'whistle'.

Somehow, over the muffled screams, 

we have the nerve to call our cultures civilized, when just last year alone, the U.S of Assassination claimed twenty-five innocent trans-lives. 

When trans-people of colour were disproportionately targeted in these attacks, when will we learn to love instead of separating white from black?  

Until our politics are stripped of poisoned prejudice, 

gender nonconforming folx can only 

live in fear of further violence.

Unless our sisters have access to

healthcare, housing, and are gainfully employed, we cannot pretend there's progress until discrimination's been destroyed. 

Give them power through our platform;

lift them up so they can stand alone;

make them feel like mighty Marsha P.  

starting revolutions with a single stone.

We mustn't forget race and sex were never choices that we consciously made.

Let us fight for our most vulnerable, and

amplify their muted voices that fragile men forbade. 

Let us resist until they return to their rightful places next to us once again. This civil rights movement demands the overdue acceptance of our global trans-families and friends. 

We will not evolve until they can be seen without also being afraid. Only once their suffering will finally end, will we ever be able to appreciate their truth, and their transcendence. 

x

Circonflexe

His arms unencumbered me,
removing all signs of weakness,
seasick though I was,
I somehow survived through stormy season. 

A whisper, a glimmer;
strategic breaths that kissed my neck.
A runner, a sprinter,
only he could rescue me from wreck. 

Inside my tattered mind,
two wrongs could never make a right,
until he blessed me with his Francophony
that made me blossom overnight.

Homogeneous.

They often called me yellow—
marigold and mustard bellied.
Only my fear was ever apparent,
even after naked wars against the winter.

The cold burned like waxen candles—
it left my jaundiced skin searing all summer.

Gayness was a crisply-cool deathwish that
rippled right below the surface,
until I realized all I could do
was live my truth in earnest.

And in spite of my reserved nature—
this itch refused to be removed.
So there I was, this peacock,
with his coat of many colours,
wide open to assault,
that accosted me like splinters.

Inner-city youth turned circuit kid adorned in glitter—
I have worn many faces,
though the kindest ones appeared upon my sisters. 

Displaced, I lost many races
yet somehow still remained a winner;
I salvaged scraps of shrapnel
though society classified me as a sinner. 

I am me—the sum of my parts;
sexuality could never render me a victim.

Daddy's Double Life.

At half past five each Friday, 
Samuel keyed-in his security
alarm's four-digit code, 
closing his office for the weekend.  

He tightly clutched his 
chestnut leather briefcase, 
before hurrying to catch 
the first train home.

Conceding to the defeat of his 
heavy-framed tortoise-shell 
Armani glasses while they 
cut into the bridge of his nose;

Samuel unlocked his apartment door, 
greeted Madge, his cat, 
and then kicked off 
his alligator shoes.

It was no secret at work that he was gay, 
but their jaws would drop if they ever found out 
he spent his weekends dancing in skin-tight dresses, 
as a British woman named Samantha Fox. 

Samantha had existed just as long as
Samuel had known that he was queer.  
She came to life, one magical day when he 
looked in a mirror but instead of his reflection, 
she appeared. 

He turned up the speakers, 
blasting Aretha and Babs, 
as he sat down to paint. 
Priming his face for cake, 
he glued down his eyebrows, 
then let Samantha take the reins.

She sipped on a gin on tonic, 
as she applied foundation 
then contoured her face.  
Within minutes, Samuel disappeared, 
and Samantha sat in his place.

False eyelashes and acrylic nails 
were the final touches to her look.  
Samantha zipped herself into 
a revealing royal blue dress, 
then let her six-inch stiletto heels 
carry her off into the night.

Orlando Gloom.

There is no humanity 

when hatred prevails and reigns supreme,
when we are divided by our faith, 

dogma, race or community.

Our focus should be on 

the forty-nine innocent lives that were lost,
instead of whom to blame 

and which group we must accost.

When hatred takes over, 

ego is the sole reason a louse could feel like a man, 

arrogance ignored results in fools 

acting out their wicked plans.

Anyone who instills fear in others 

should be labeled as a terrorist,
it should not be reserved exclusively for 

that religion from the Middle East.

What difference does it make 

when families are bereaved, 

no amount of bleach could ever erase 

these tears or this blood from the streets.

Who would have thought a city filled with Disney magic 

could experience ugliness like this, 

if Mickey Mouse is not even safe 

then no one really is. 

The world is awash in mourning;
there is no humanity.
So we must look to the helpers to save us 

from being eaten alive by insanity.

Inhumane beasts like this creature, 

the byproduct of a corrupt society, 

are proof that ignorance untreated 

results in a false sense of piety.

For centuries, the battle between 

good and evil has been fought.
Today we learned acceptance is not innate 

and needs to be taught.

Take away their guns and weapons, 

let them wage wars with words;
it's said sticks and stones 

can break one's bones but never verbs.

It's evident now how desperately 

we need to make a change,
exclusion is not the answer 

as it only creates more rage.

Unless we learn to love 

and accept our fellow man, 

we will always be two steps behind, 

unable to accomplish all that we truly can.

Come together, right now—
as we mourn this immeasurable loss. 

When our safe spaces are targeted, 

everybody pays the cost.

He expected to put an end 

to the global community's pulse but failed.

All he accomplished was for our hearts 

to beat louder to show we have prevailed. 

Let us pray for the victims, before we ensure 

evil of this scale never occurs again; 

love will always be victorious
for only it can win.