Vampire

what little remorse our hero had

he'd lost for his old friend

Apollo was the very one

he'd chosen to offend

and so the sun was most unkind

to white teeth and nails clenched

to flesh plagued by that which

only the freshest blood quenched

and Hecate was angered by

Apollo's wicked curse

that she paid Chiron's leave

with coins from her own purse

so Death could stalk the halls

of bishop, priest, and nun

and gift them life who dared

to spite the visage of the sun

-o0o-

Cry to the Trees

cry to the trees

perhaps they're listening

when you're cut down

your blood christening

their roots, grow strong

and your life screams

a tale from their leaves

eating the sunbeams

the hungry trees

with carnivorous roots

tilling the corpses

blood-lapping shoots

perhaps they'll listen

if you do as they please

so if you must

cry to the trees

-o0o-

Honestly I have no idea what this one is about. I just wrote it and the words fell out of me like I was chewing with my mouth open.

[sic]-ness

plutocracy has made us [sic]

an error of debit and credit

scratched off human lives

whited out human cruelty

where money is the ultimate fix

and blood is just red in a ledger

the poor are typos

irrelevant mistakes

used up commodities

erased with dog-whistle politics

and that all-too-typical rationalization

that we're entitled to what we have

at the cost of others

-o0o-

Fees Must Fall

Please head over to Poetry Potion to read my poem regarding Fees Must Fall:

http://www.poetrypotion.com/fees-must-fall-by-charl-landsberg/

Regards
Charl

-o0o-

Picking Battles

I'm picking each battle today

in every word that I say

doling them out on small paper plates

each friend that I greet

each stranger I meet

carefully measuring the volumes and weights

I only have so much to spare

and a soul in need of repair

and how I'm practicing prudence with my supplies

I have far to go

and my rations are low

and I don't have much time for your hatred and lies

-o0o-

Admin

Well, it seems as though Blogger now hates all forms of social media. None of their in-house apps work and adding code to the HTML is like pulling teeth. I'd hate to move this blog, I'm approaching 10k views and I've always used Blogger.

I'm tired. I'll sort this out another day.

Love and Cookies
Charl

-o0o-

A Sonnet for the Intruder

she taps her feet on two’s and four’s

fucking up my wooden floors

rap-tap-tap comes Dance again

up and down across my room

pulling legs, my bones atwist

prod me till I get the gist

beat my aching heart again

a tender drum in high volume

slap me, wake me, bend me, break me

music shot back through my veins

fix me, fend me, hurt me, mend me

saddle me and flick the reins

she first sings sweet as sound permits

but when she goes I’m blown to bits

-o0o-

Second-Hand

well

guess it was about time it happened

just

wish it didn't leave me so flattened

stupid I know

but here we are

and another friendship gone

because

well

they don't like who I am

nothing that I did

they just ran away and hid

slid away all nice and quiet

because they don't

"agree with my lifestyle"

and I have to hear about this

second-hand

that's okay

been here before

I'm not knocking on death's door

so sweep the floor

dust my coat

move along

new day, new shirt

strangely it doesn't hurt

not as much as it did

the times and times before

a heart grows cold

and numb to the sore

-o0o-

Don't Dare be Woman

even among queer folk, it is taught

don’t you dare be woman

don’t be femme, she, or soft

they tell you it’s poison

gay guys are told it’s wrong

to effectively unman

kink wrist, and partake

in any feminine action

gay women are told they’re sluts

if they betray any feminine notion

but lesbians are fucked either way

for the crime of actually being women

trans folk are branded cheats

accused of wanting attention

for being frauds and fiends

for cheating the system

naturally the crime is woman

the sin in every religion

embodied in every direction

the worst of every decision

they tell you it’s wrong

on Facebook on Grindr in person

no pansies, no poofs, no femmes

as if that’s the worst that could happen

in patriarchy repackaged

this queer assimilation

is all about fitting in

(and hopefully Caucasian)

because girl is imperfect

and woman is broken

and boy is becoming

and man is salvation

it’s strange how queer folk

fight so hard to be human

but turn around and teach

don’t you dare be woman

-o0o-

Mister Redd

Mister Redd, 

had a very large head,

and thought of his dear lovely wife.

Oh lovely she'd been, 

the best ever seen,

till he'd gone and ended her life.

-o0o-

Trans-Pride (well at least I am proud)

so I walk about with
     long hair
     eyeliner
     nailpolish
          I look good

and still women
     women friends of mine
     think it's hilarious
          how people call me ma'am sometimes
          even when I'm out of "costume"
     laugh at me
          oh how silly I am
          oh how silly the stranger is
          to mistake me for a woman
               how utterly inconceivable

as if this
     this
     is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me

as if I should melt at the mention of being mistaken for woman
     as if woman is the most shameful thing I can be

I mean this coming from women,
     women who call themselves feminists
          I think you need to rethink your feminism
     if woman is something that you automatically associate with shame

because you've bought hook, line, and sinker into the myth
     the patriarchal myth that male is something to strive for
          and woman is something you should avoid at all costs
     the myth that I have somehow failed to live up to that
          the myth that I have to pick between the two
     man or woman
          as if those are my only options

and the myth that being mistaken for woman
     is the mistake that really hurts
when my friends
     the people who care and love me
          are the ones mistaking me for what I'm not

-o0o-

Appropriation

colour, a commodity 

packaged in beads and thread

strip the black children naked 

leave brown kids for dead

eat up their culture 

sweep up their ash

nothing gets in the way 

of the white folks' cash

-o0o-

Abelief

no gods or devils here, ma'am

no spells or powers, sir

just this

small-town reality's kiss

spilled blood and coffee

pain and tears

both

crystal on my eyes

no justice but what we make

no meaning but what we take

no purpose but that we break

we made this world in our image

cruel and hateful

like the gods we dreamt up

I cannot tell you what I believe

because I don't believe in anything

but I can tell you what I don't believe

and much of it comes from there

that place

the pit of human hatred

that teaches us that

men over women

white people over people of colour

breeders over queers

cis over trans

and funny how all your books

all your gods

all your dogma starts there too

cruel and vindictive

dogs requiring the collars of modernity

no wonder god and dog are the same words

rabid monsters untamed and wild

ripping the throats out of the innocent

or puppies trained to piss outdoors

where we don't have to worry about it

and for what it's worth

I love my dogs more than your gods

they've actually given me love

they were there for me when I bled

they were there for me when I was beaten

they were there for me when I cried

and your gods supplied the blows and cuts

fortified the hands of the men who hurt me

with scripture and pulpit

so, no

I don't believe

no gods or devils here, ma'am

we're all sold out

-o0o-

Panic Attack

little breath

short and sweet

let me up onto my feet

heartbeat race

tear flows

panic knocks, panic knows

dirty feet on

my clean floor

smash the plates, slam the doors

bitter guest who

pins me down

deeper till I start to drown

clothes wet from

the panicked sweat

worst fiend I had ever met

petrified by

fear again

again, again, again, again,

waves of panic

over me

coat my eyes that I can't see

dead

cold in space

nothing in this time and place

panic kiss me on my face

nothing left, without a trace

awaken in the morning

shower

cold water

rinse the sweat off

tell myself to stop being so silly

get on with it

-o0o-

Not Enough

I’m not enough
just a small cup
take just one sip
you’ve drunk me up

my heart can only break so much
often it's broken for me
often broken for someone else
but I can only break so much, you see

I’m not a lot
just one cup
just one long moment
and I’m used up

-o0o-

Apologies, Errors, and Weird Things I Do Online

Apologies to my usual readers. As it turns out, I have totally messed up the style of this website due to my teaching code to myself... so I've reverted it back to one of the Blogger templates. I guess I'll just leave it for the moment. I'm way too tired to deal with this right now.

So for the meantime: here's a picture of a baby llama.

Love
Charl

-o0o-

I-They

(Trigger Warning: child abuse and molestation, gender dysphoria)

when I was young I wanted toys
     toys meant for girls
     I didn't understand what that meant
     but I was taught that this was bad
I wanted dolls and jewellery

it’s a strange thing to be conditioned
     to be something you’re not
     taught with hushed tones
“your father won’t allow that”

daddy
     this mythical creature
     that came into my life when I was three years old
     a creature that stole all my mother's power
     and breathed that power into hatred over us

fear in the eyes of women
     afraid
          afraid of what might happen to us
if daddy found out
     that his boy was a fag
     what daddy might do to them
     what daddy might do to me
so I’d steal toys and hide them
     I hid them well
     I learnt an awesome trick
     you teach daddy about a secret place
     a secret place nobody is allowed to look
     and in that place I put junk
     maybe a birthday card or two
     maybe something sentimental
           make sure it's a mess

but the real treasure you hide somewhere else
     so when daddy discovers your secret place
     he finds junk, a card, ... and a mess
     you get in trouble
          you're never not in trouble
but it's good
     because you know this trouble is nothing
          nothing
          nothing compared to the trouble you’ll get into
          if he found the real stash

I taught myself to love toys
     toys that are somehow connected to the penis
     I was never told why that is
     I was just told that somehow penis meant...

building blocks
     action figures
          I taught myself to love that

I'm good at pretending
     I even fooled myself
          for years
          as toys replaced other things

boys should be tough
     boys should fight
          boys shouldn't cry

I cried
     I was punished
          I was beaten
     I had to play games in my underwear
          I had to be naked in front of him
               this will make me a ‘real’ man
                    groomed to be a groom

I’d take secret knitting lessons from my grandmother
     I’d hide my needles and my wool
          for years
               to this day I still want to hide it all away
          afraid I might get punished
or I might get poked with a knitting needle
     again in my underwear
          spanked with his belt
naked this time as my body changed
     as I became this man-thing everyone imagined
          the belt became a broom
               as his cock grew hard

and the beatings got harder
     till I couldn't walk sometimes
     or he’d walk up to me and punch me
     for no reason
man up

worst advice he could have given me
     because whatever manning up meant
     it added up to cutting him down
     cutting through him like wrapping paper on presents
peeling him off of me
     he’s gone now

i’m still unwrapping myself
     inside out
          starting with the outer most layers
     the things boys aren't supposed to like
teaching myself it’s okay
     going deeper
     unpacking the boy I never was
     undressing the idea of boy
putting it where I left daddy

                it’s mostly raw and naked now
           nothing to cover me
     no words to explain what’s left

I tell people I'm transgender
     and that I'm not who they think I am
           they don’t understand

I tell people I'm non-binary
     and they deliberately don't understand
          they don't want to

I say that I don't really have a point where I knew
     I don't have some magical date
          I can't say I always knew
     gay and trans didn't come to me one day
          they weren't convenient
          I wasn't "born this way"
          that's someone else's story

I wasn't born into the wrong body
     my body was stolen from me before I had a say
     before I could speak

I was taught this way.
     made man by hate
     made straight by hate
     made cisgender by hate
     made binary by hate
     made Christian by hate

I wasn't born transgender.
     I was born something entirely free of all this crap
     transgender was what I became to shed being cisgender
          because what else is there?
     atheist is what I became to escape Christianity
          because that god didn't love me
     non-binary is what I became to tear of boy and man
          and I didn't pick up woman somewhere along the way
          she is as foreign to me as he is
     gay is what I became to get rid of imposed heterosexuality
          and I'm not even fucking gay
     pansexual is what I became because I can love you
          I can love the boy
          I can love the girl
               but they don't love me the same way

I tell my boyfriend I'm not a man
     so we’re not in a homosexual relationship
          he doesn't understand that

I stop calling myself he
     and I cry
          and I want to run back to the cupboard
     and wrap myself in that old wrapping paper
     cellotape over the seams to make myself respectable
          and attach another birthday card
    write "man" on the card
read: afraid
     it’s not safe here

I refer to myself as they
     and things seem okay
     I recognise myself for the first time

               I start shaving now
          as much as I can
          as much as my delicate skin will allow
     I know the person in the mirror
     each time I shave, I look like myself
     my friends say I'm looking more and more like my mom
and it makes my heart glow

-o0o-