Save Us

Discharge the gun –
protection a vessel
through which our depths
are undefined…adrift

Fear is a burrower
wears a false crown
births loss
trusts danger

Hearts beg,
amid this trigger-readiness
for a guardian – unafraid
to court this meaningless

Futility unchecked –
to study productive options
unimaginable in the current
state of chaos on repeat.

(Art my own)

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If I Could Only Breathe

So much I want to say,
yet the oppression of opposition
stomps heavily on my airways
cutting off the flow

Daughter of a trans father
mother contemplating MAiD –
embroiled in controversy,
I see only injustice

Cannot fathom the hatred
the railing against books
and glamour, and science,
misappropriation of christianity

How am I supposed to grieve;
take up arms for those I love,
when I am silenced before I speak
judgments cast without a thought?

If I could have a word,
if anyone would listen
I would share, perhaps insight
into the lives of secrets held

Describe how hearts wilt
beneath cruelty of suppression
how torn apart we become
ignorance voiding authenticity

I would tell you of the horrors
that dwelt within our homes
the fear of discovery, of rejection
how ugly it all felt….until

Education offered explanation
and in that opening
we saw potential to climb out
from our shadowy existence

embrace a life in which our love
is neither tainted nor deviant
and tell me please, as I try to listen
how such hopefulness is sin, after all.


(Image my own)


Who Will Stop The Onslaught?

A nine-year-old skips
along the centre line
of an abandoned street
imagination empowered
by sunshine blue skies

Till the low rumble
of aircraft startles her
and she runs for cover
praying to an absent God
to take her now, young
heart too bruised to carry on.

A fifteen-year-old huddles
in a dank underground corner
already violated by a war
she did not ask for,
shamed by her body’s betrayal
praying for a death more forgiving

A mother holds her baby close
tremors such an indelible part of life now
grasps for a God she once believed in
sees the vacancy in adolescent eyes
the joylessness of her weeping child
prays for a way out of this hell.



Fences

Look at us building fences
pretending we have differences

Do we not hunger the same
hunt in the same places?

Do we not strive with equal intent
build our nests with the same ferocity?

Forgo passion for survival?
Let us stop pretending

Let down these walls
admit to our vulnerabilities

align our purposes, and
fight a more fearsome foe.

(Fences first appeared here in March, 2018. Image my own)