Poems
A Collection of Transgender Poems
By Diana L
©2005 - 2012 by Diana L. The poems are intended for your own personal enjoyment or use, you can copy them and use them to your hearts content. I would only ask that you keep my name and e-mail address on any copies that you make. However, no permission is given for any commercial purposes
Preface
Some of my poems are serious, some are light hearted, some are humorous, some are joyous and some are sad. However, all the poems reflected my feeling and mood at the time. And that is what a poem should be, an expression of the poet’s feelings. Through the poems, I hope to convey my feeling so that you may also share some of the feelings and emotions that I felt.
“The Word Not Spoken” was from the First Event convention when someone asked me if I was a transsexual. I felt that at the time that to say the word meant a commitment I was not ready to make. “The Fork in the Road” was from the realization that all of my old friends were slipping away as I made new friends in the transgender community. My old friends were inviting me to dinner party and get-togethers and some of those events collided with meeting and events that I was going to in the transgender community. I had to make decisions of which to go to. “The Coming Out” was written when I realized that at some time I was going to have to tell my brother and the poem “The Word Spoken” was written after I did tell my brother. “The Question”, I wrote this just after my mother passed away. I had always wondered what it would have been like if we talked about me being Trans. Would she had hated me, would she understand, oh I always wondered what would have been. I know that she knew because she found my stash of clothes a couple of times, it vanished and then I had to go out and get more clothes.
I hope that through the poems that you may feel, what my soul is like and what it is to be transgendered. It is my way of reach out.
Update 8/24/2012: And now I adding poems about my battle with Diabetes and all the complications to come from it, starting with "Another Mountain to Climb"
Diana L
* * * * *
Lady in the Mirror
Heart skips a beat.
Stomach flutters.
Breath is lost.
I see me.
I am whole.
I am one.
* * * * *
The Word Not Spoken
The word said,
means commitment.
The word said,
means obligations.
The word said,
means duty.
The word said,
is a milestone
The word said,
is another stone in the foundation.
The word said,
is a fork in the road taken.
The word said,
closes the door behind and opens the door in front.
The word said,
burns the bridges.
The word said,
can never be unsaid.
I am a …..
* * * * *
The Abyss
You don’t even notice it at first.
But, it’s always pulling, pulling.
You think, I can always turn back.
It’s always pulling.
The ground slopes down, down towards the abyss.
It’s always pulling.
You see it, you try to fight it.
But, it’s always pulling
Pulling you down towards it,
you fight it, grabbing at anything.
It’s always pulling, pulling.
You slide towards it, faster and faster.
Pulling.
Just one more time. I know I can stop.
But, it’s pulling.
You reach out.
And pick up the dress.
* * * * *
The Fork in the Road
I stand at a fork in the road. One path is worn smooth and well used, the other is rocky and rutted.
My old friends hail me as they walk past on the main road. My new friends say, don’t be afraid, that they will guide me around the rocky places.
Both paths vanish not far down the road, over a crest of a hill. Hiding their secrets of what lies ahead.
I think maybe that I can go down one for a ways and cut over to the other. But, between the two are brambles and thorns.
I look between the paths and know that I have to make a decision. I hesitate and don’t know which way to choose.
My reason pulls, towards the well-traveled road. My heart pulls the other way, towards the rocky road.
I must choose before it’s too late and time passes me by.
* * * * *
All I Want To Do
All I want to do is to walk down a street.
All I want is not to be harassed.
All I want to do is to sit down at a table.
All I want is to be called
Miss by the waitress.
All I want to do is to pick a dress
off the rack and try it on.
All I want is to be called
Miss by the clerk.
All I want to do is be free.
All I want is to be me.
* * * * *
Trans-
I look in the mirror and I see a man.
I blink, and I see a woman.
But, I am I.
I don’t feel any different.
How can I be both?
Can both survive?
Will one have to be destroyed, in order for the other to live?
Will I still be me?
* * * * *
Wonder Woman / Superman
Doorbell rings,
Wonder Woman spins,
Whoosh, Superman answers the door.
Closing the door,
Superman spins,
Whoosh, Wonder Woman walks away.
Superman drives down the block,
Turns onto the highway,
Whoosh, Wonder Woman drives away.
By day, a mild manor supervisor,
By night, a sultry, lushes woman
* * * * *
G is for….
G is for Gay.
Walks down the street alone.
L is for Lesbian.
Walks down the street alone.
B is for Bisexual.
Walks down the street alone.
T is for Transsexual.
Walks down the street alone.
Stares and murmurs follow.
* * * * *
Avalanche
The first snow of the season falls on the high mountain meadow.
I’ll try on sis’s bra and panties, I wonder what it feels like. No one will know
The snow begins to cover the meadow and piles up around the trees.
I’ll just try on her dress, I wonder how I will look. No one will know.
As one snowstorm after another pile up the snow into tall mountainous drift.
I’ll just drive around the block. No one will know.
The snow begins to come down in one howling blizzard after another.
I’ll just drive to a mall in another town. No one will know.
The snow starts to pack down under its own weight.
I’ll just dress up on weekends. No one will know.
The massive snow begins to sag and slip.
I’ll just have the hair on my arms and face removed, I never wanted a beard anyway. No one will know.
The snow breaks loose and crashes down the mountain, gathering speed and momentum. Taking everything in its path with it.
* * * * *
Out of the Closet
I drive to the ATM or to the mailbox and I think I’m out now.
But, then I hear that old squeaky door.
I go to a meeting for the first time and I think I’m out now.
But, then I hear that old squeaky door.
I go to a restaurant for the first time and I think I’m out now.
But, then I hear that old squeaky door.
I walk down a city street for the first time and I think I’m out now.
But, then I hear that old squeaky door.
I go to a convention for the first time and I think I’m out now.
But, then I hear that old squeaky door.
I see a pre-op and I think now she’s out.
But, then I hear her make a comment and there’s that old squeaky door.
I see a post-op and I think now she’s out.
But, then I hear her make a comment and there’s that old squeaky door.
I go to a national convention and I listen to the speaker and I think now she’s out.
But, then I hear her make a comment and there’s that old squeaky door.
* * * * *
Teach Your Child
I read Ann Landers the other day.
It was about transsexuals and bathrooms.
The mother saw hate.
The child saw innocence.
The mother was a good Christian women.
The child preached love.
The old sage preached understanding.
Why do we teach our children to hate?
Why don’t we teach them to love?
* * * * *
Colors
It is neither black nor white, but it all the shades of gray.
It is neither day nor night, but it is twilight.
It is neither hot nor cold, but a pleasant warmth.
It is neither truth nor a lie, but white lies.
We are like the colors of a rainbow.
We are like spices to a chef.
We are like the colors on an artist palette.
We are like a bridge that spans male and female.
* * * * *
Memories
I look up, clutching my mother’s dress.
The big lady says “My aren’t you a pretty young lady”
I am not! I am a boy!
Click.
I look up, clutching my mother’s dress.
The big lady says, “I bet you were wishing for a girl.”
Click.
Big brother says, “Mommy wanted a girl. And she got you instead!”
Click.
A big closet with all nice little dresses.
Click.
You can’t play any more with the little girl down the street.
Why not?
Because, we say so Davy.
Click.
Howdy Dowdy Puppet
Ha, ha. You got a doll for Christmas.
It’s not a doll! Throwing it away in the bushes.
Click.
Sister Mary Ellen says we all have to wear skirts and high heel shoes.
It’s only for Freshman Initiation.
My, don’t you look pretty.
Click.
Davy, I have to go out. You don’t mind being left alone?
Run to the bedroom open the closet.
My don’t I look pretty.
Click
Oh my God! It’s my brother.
Run to the bedroom.
What are you doing in bed in the middle of the day?
Click.
Washing the car. On the radio, “It’s a mixed up shook up world.” Huh?
Click.
Slide ruler. Diff-E-Que. Maxwell Equations.
Beard, long hair, old army jacket. Here man try some of this, it’s dy-o-mite.
Clllliiiiiick.
Backpacking, skiing, fishing, scuba diving. I’m a man.
Click.
Renee Richards.
What Sex am I?
Jan Morris.
Click.
We’re getting Internet connections for everyone here at the office.
Let’s see, search for transformers and inductors.
What’s this? Transsexuals?
I got to get me one of these computers for home.
Click.
Melanie Phillips, Lynn LeFevre, Becky Allison, MD., Dr Anne Lawrence.
Click.
COS
Click
Meetings. Banquet. Picnics, Fantasia Fair. First Event.
New friends. Walking down a street. Restaurants.
Rain on my stockings.
Laughing…
* * * * *
Why
Can you tell me why?
Why do I like the color green instead of blue?
Why do I use my left hand instead of my right hand?
Why do I like the Red Sox instead of the Yankees?
Why do I like a dress instead of a suit and tie?
Why do I like pumps instead of wing tips?
Why do I like nylon instead of cotton?
Can you tell me why?
* * * * *
Hair
You can tease you hair.
You can put up your hair.
You can take down your hair.
But, you need a head of hair.
You can comb your hair.
You can color your hair.
You can perm your hair.
But, you need a head of hair.
You can cut your hair.
You can have long hair
You can have short hair.
But, you need a head of hair
You can style your hair.
You can play with your hair.
You can run your fingers through your hair
But, you need a head of hair
* * * * *
Glances
Walking in the mall.
A women frowns and glances over.
I wonder does she know?
Eating at a diner.
A boy glances over the top of the booth.
I wonder does he really understand?
Coming out of a store.
Teenagers elbow one and another and glance over.
I wonder are they hostile?
Driving on the highway.
On the CB I hear, “Check that out!” As a truck driver glances over,
I wonder who do they see a man or a woman?
Walking down the street.
Construction workers glance over and cry out catcalls and wolf whistles.
I wonder are they only what a woman normally gets?
* * * * *
The Coming Out
I am in a room that is dark and small.
I listen at the door and I hear voices on the other side.
I send e-mail and it comes back “Welcome.”
I hesitantly open the door and I see people walking around.
I slowly walk out and they offer me a hand.
I see other rooms and as I walk through them the people are smiling and talking cheerfully.
I come to another door and I open it.
I see the other side is bright blue overhead and all around is filled with colors.
I walk through the door and out into the open.
* * * * *
The Haunted Forest
Running, running.
Aimlessly through the dark.
With shafts of light piercing the dark here and there.
Goblins and bogeymen reaching out grabbing at you.
You stop and listen to noises in the dark.
Running, running.
Bumping into objects in the dark.
A woman puts out a hand and says, “I can help, I know the way, follow me to the light.”
You fearfully follow her towards the light.
She leads you to an open meadow, filled with flowers, butterflies and birds singing.
Walking through the woods sunlight shine through the leaves.
Walking through the woods branches grabbing at my jacket.
Walking through the woods squirrels scamper in the leaves on the ground.
Walking through the woods, you see a person running wildly.
You stop and say, “I can help, I know the way, follow me to the light.”
* * * * *
The Box
It would plea and beg to be let out of the box.
Other times it would bang it’s fist and try to claw out of the box.
I would take it out and let it play when nobody was around, but I would always put it back in the box.
I would be able to go to work or play because I had it in the box.
At night I would open the box, but by morning it would be back in the box.
I could hear it praying to be let out of the box but I always ignored it and only when I wanted to I’ll let it out of the box.
As I went about I could hear it make comments “Oh, that’s a pretty dress.” or “I wish I could look that pretty.” but, I always forced it back in the box.
But, once in awhile a painted nail or a hairless arm would be seen out of the box.
It’s walking around in public and eating in restaurant and it is now getting harder to put it back in the box.
When it’s out of the box it knows freedom and when I try to put it back in the box, it turns and smiles and says, “I have the key and when ever I want, I can get out of box.”
* * * * *
What It’s Like
Do you know what it’s like,
To look in the mirror and not see you,
To feel that you are someone else,
To feel that you have the wrong body.
Do you know what it’s like,
To be not able to tell your parents,
To be not able to tell your bothers and sisters,
To be not able to tell your friends.
Do you know what it’s like,
To be asked how was your weekend,
To fear hearing your name shouted on the street,
To fear going out to the store as yourself.
Do you know what it’s like,
To realize that you still have lipstick on when you hand the teller your check,
To realize that you still have some nail polish on when you reach for a cup of coffee,
To realize that you still have a barrette in your hair at the store.
Do you know what it’s like,
To be transsexual.
* * * * *
The Question
You never asked.
I always wondered.
But, I never asked.
It was our little secret.
The question unasked.
Little things that let me know that you knew.
But never asked.
The little hints here and there.
But the question remained unasked.
Hints just loud enough for my ears.
Oh, I always wondered about the question unasked.
Would our love survived.
If asked.
What would it have been like with the question asked?
What might have been if you asked?
What might have been if I asked?
But now is too late for you or me to ask.
* * * * *
Climbing the Mountain
I walk across the plateau to the face of the cliff,
Looking up I think that I’ll never make it.
It looks insurmountable, a formable wall in my journey.
I see others look up at the wall, shake their heads and walk away.
Deep inside me that inner voices calls.
I know that I have climbed others and have always made it,
But this looks different,
I know that I will have to summon my courage.
The plateau is comfortable, but my inner voice calls me.
I reach out and find a handhold, then another.
Slowly I pull myself up.
One handhold and one toehold after another.
Looking back from where I came, I can see the hills and valleys.
They all seemed like they were mountains and canyons then.
Now from this vantage point, I laugh at them.
Up I climb, always knowing that I may fall before I reach the top.
There will be no sage or wise man at the top,
Only the wisdom gained along the way.
I realize I have come a long ways but I still have far to go.
That inner voice calls me.
One handhold and one toehold after another I climb.
I know that at the top I will find another cliff,
And another mountain to climb after that.
* * * * *
The Word Spoken
The word has been spoken.
The bridges burned.
I can only go forward.
To the beat of a different drummer.
The regrets put behind.
What lies before me, I cannot say.
Hope is eternal.
To the light of a new day.
I cast my lot.
I pray to see the way.
I will not perish.
Come what may.
I will survive.
* * * * *
To Dream
Oh, to dream,
To wake up as a women,
To be who I am,
To feel whole.
Oh, to dream,
To be me,
To be true,
To be free.
Oh, to dream,
To love,
To be loved,
To be one of two.
Oh, if only dreams come true!
To dream,
Of sandy white beaches,
Of walking in the surf,
Hand in hand.
To dream,
Of fields with flowers and butterflies,
Of long white flowing dresses,
Two together.
To dream,
Of leaf covered country lanes,
Of warm woolen sweaters,
Together as one.
Oh, if only dreams come true!
* * * * *
To Be Counted
There is a right of passage.
That we all share in common.
Whether you are gay,
Or lesbian,
Or bisexual,
Or transgendered.
When at one time or other,
You must step forward,
And declare,
What your inner voice tells you.
To step over the line,
To be counted.
To stand tall.
* * * * *
Trapped
Trapped…
…like a Mime in a box.
…like an animal in a zoo.
…like a rabbit with out a hole.
…like a deer in headlights.
Trapped…
…in a cave without a light.
…in a cage without bars.
…in a sea without a life raft.
Trapped…
…between heaven and hell.
…between female and male.
Trapped…
…in body
…in mind.
Trapped…
…by society.
…by family.
Trapped…
…with this thing called GID.
Trapped…
…trapped….
…trapped!
* * * * *
Gender
Gender,
for some it is like a lake in winter,
for others it is like water in a steam.
Gender,
for some it is like the oak,
for others it is like the willow.
Gender,
for some it is like clay fired into pottery,
for others it is like clay on a potter's wheel.
Gender,
for some it is like steel,
for others it is like mercury.
* * * * *
Labels
Are you…?
Labels generalize.
Look at them, they are…!
Labels categorize.
I wouldn't talk to them…!
Labels ostracize.
You…!
Labels dehumanize.
They are all a bunch of…!
Labels stigmatize.
Come on you…!
Labels antagonize.
The … can't throw!
Labels demoralize.
Do not label me!
* * * * *
A Passing
There comes a time to past
Time to shed a tear
Time for the last
Time for the words we don't want to hear.
What we all must face
Time for what we all fear
Time not to waste
Time for the words we don't want to hear.
Our time will also come
Time for what we can not seer
Time to go home
Time for the words we don't want to hear.
Time to say one last good-bye.
* * * * *
A Child Taught
A child reaches for a hot stove.
A mother says,
Don’t touch that!
A child crosses a road.
A mother says,
Look both ways!
A child runs in to the toy store.
A mother says,
Walk, don’t run!
A child grabs a toy from another.
A mother says,
Share your toys!
Two women holding hands.
A mother says,
Queers!
A child looks up,
And doesn’t understand!
* * * * *
Fear
Fear….
Can keep you hidden.
Fear….
Can make you sick.
Fear….
Can make you crazy.
Fear….
Of what they may think.
Fear….
Of what they may say.
Fear….
Of what they may do.
Fear….
Can be over come.
Fear….
Can be conquered.
Fear….
Can make you stronger.
* * * * *
When Life was Fun
I remember when life was fun,
with games, blocks and balls.
I remember when life was fun,
with yelling, laughing and giggling.
I remember when life was fun,
with smiles, winks and nods.
I remember when life was fun,
with running, skipping and jumping.
I remember when life was fun,
with snakes, spiders and frogs.
I remember when life was fun,
with peeking, hiding and seeking.
* * * * *
Who We Are
I ask questions others would never dream
Looking at the world from a different side
Thinking thoughts that are deep
Looking far into my soul
Seeking answers from within
Looking for who I am
Searching for my true essence
Looking for my very being
Listening for that inner voice
Finding that spirit down inside
Who’ll tell me who I am
* * * * *
Butterfly
The caterpillar crawls along
It’s dull green body
Hides among the leaves
Pauses to eat here and there
If it could look into a mirror
Would it see a dull green caterpillar
Or a beautiful butterfly
Does it see the beauty within
Does it have the urge to change
Will it spin its cocoon
And fly off on multicolored wings
* * * * *
Missing You
O’Daddy, I miss you,
The bouncing on your knee
The smell of pipe smoke
The buckets of catfish
O’Daddy, I miss you,
The summer drives
The cottage
The picnics
O’Daddy, I miss you,
The twinkle in your eye
The wisps of your hair
The toothless grin
O’Daddy, I miss you,
* * * * *
A Christening
Birth.
Death.
Rebirth.
Phoenix rising.
No! Not from ashes.
On a foundation
On a pedestal
Of stone.
A new chapter
But not
A new name
A new life
But still the same
But a new page
Memories
Still the same
Still me.
But reborn
A crystalis
* * * * *
Another Mountain to Climb
The path is narrow between the cliff and chasm
The path climbs up and up
There is no turning back
The path must end, but I know not where
The path has been the end of many
There is no turning back