Until Recently

I live in North Carolina; and therefore, I am living under the new HB2 legislation (a.k.a. bathroom bill).

Over the last 7 or 8 months, since the popularity of Trump style bullying has gripped certain pockets of America, and this recent fear based legislation (I won't call it hate based, as I think this type of discrimination is based more on fear and ignorance than hate), the quality of my life has changed.

I love Sheetz. (Does everyone know what a Sheetz is? It's a gas station/convenience store/deli, super charged). I couldn't tell you why I love Sheetz, other than the fact that there are a lot of them around here, and so it's convenient -- hence the description, convenience store. Plus, I can have all of the free ice I want for my ice water addiction, all fountain drinks, no matter if I'm a little thirsty or a glutton, are 99¢, and I do like a hot dog now and then.  Most other people that are crowding the Sheetz are there for much of the same reasons, I suspect.  

Lately, I have had some experiences with some guys who look like they might be construction workers, or some sort of outside road crew workers. These particular guys I have had interactions with are, what I'd call, your white, young, lower middle class guys. My experience with these guys is that their values are, typically, conservative, but they are generally always polite, southern gentlemen, until recently.

Let me tell you a bit about me before I continue.  I am a middle aged female who is a bit on the heavy side. Okay. I’m heavy. Whatever! I haven't had a guy hit on me since my early thirties. For the record, I happen to be a lesbian --on the "butch" side-- so the "treat" of a guy's attention hasn't been missed.

I’ve only recently, in the last 15 years or so, become more comfortable in my skin, and am living a truer existence… in other words, I’m not as feminine as I used to be. At first glance, people mistake me for a sir, often, and I have sometimes gotten a second look by women going into the restroom, I guess because, if I'm only given a quick glance, I could be mistaken for a dude.  However, I have never been harassed, or treated with disrespect, until recently.

Within the last few months at Sheetz, one guy literally knocked into me, and whispered, "dyke" under his breath at me. Another time, I was holding the door for a guy, and he refused it. He walked right by me and said, "Nope," and opened the other door himself. A few weeks ago, a guy who is on the feminine side, went into the Sheetz, and was grabbing a cup to get a Slurpee (or the Sheetz equivalent), and was told by one of these guys, that "[he] needed to prance on out of there."

I don't blame Sheetz for this shift, but believe me when I say, there has been a shift, and this animosity is coming from people who are visibly fearful, and they feel they are warranted and clearly, in the right. Why? Because of laws like HB2, and leaders who "model" behaviors. These laws, and someone like Trump, instill fear, superiority, and aggressiveness in people. Each and every time it has happened to me or I've witnessed it, I feel shocked and surprised that this is happening.  

I knew this type of behavior existed.  I remember the treatment that my adopted mama, who happens to be black, received in public when we were out together. I remember the direction given to me by my white supervisors of a department store, to follow any black or brown person who entered the store.  I heartedly believe it was because of the laws that were on the books, and from the behavior of our leaders. It's disheartening.

My experience with this shift is not limited to the Sheetz with sweaty, dirty, white guys buying hot dogs and soda pop.

I am starting Law School in the fall, and as such, I need some professional attire. I have almost no money, so shopping is a bit stressful, as I try on a lot of things, and buy very little.  As I said, I am a bit of a butch. If I had my dithers, I wouldn't wear clothing specific for men or women, but that option doesn't exist, at least not within my budget.  My tastes in clothing are along the lines of Ellen DeGeneres, and of Glenn Close in the television series, Damages.  In order to get that look, I have to shop for some of my items in the men’s department. This is something I have done for the last 15 years or so, as I have gotten more comfortable in my own skin.  I have never, not once, had a problem, until recently.

One sales associate, an older African American woman, chased me across the store chanting, "Sir!" in a frantic, panicked voice.  I paid her no mind, as I didn't think she was "siring" me.  But after I got into the dressing room, and hung my items on the hook, there was a knock on the door. "Sir?"  I replied, "May I help you?" in my non sir voice, of course.  She recoiled, stating, "Oh ---- I just wanted to make sure you were in the correct dressing room. I hear that it appears you are."

In another store, a white, 30 something, female customer froze when I walked into the dressing room, obviously disturbed.  Within minutes, someone was knocking on the door asking, "I just wanted to check to see if someone is in here."  I answered, in my non sir voice again, and she walked away feeling assured that she was protecting people's rights, and that all of the social norms are going as they should.

Now, I know I'm not the only gender, non-confirming person who has been subject to this shift, because I see others going through it too. And I know that men that are not masculine enough have faced ridicule for a very long time.  And, I'm well aware that of all the marginalized folks, I am one of the last ones to become a part of this wave of ignorance that is sweeping America. People, all the way back to the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act, have suffered great harm due to laws, ignorance, and leaders who guided the collective thought. Those who came to America who were not white, straight, and protestant, have suffered, tragically. And the slaves, OH MY GOD, the slaves...

I am merely another addition to the long list of folks "to be afraid of," and in turn, I am afraid.

With the rise in popularity of bills such as HB2, and the rise of the orange, scary, bully, Donald Trump, I am fearful of what is to become of the Country I love, which has overcome and grown so much over the last hundred years or so, albeit, slowly. Over the next 5 months, or longer if, God forbid, Trump wins -- it will all be for nothing. This growing animosity towards anyone who is not white, and a cis-male, will bring us back to a mentality of the early twentieth century—only worse—because we know better now, or should.

I hear people saying, "trust in the American people, and know Trump will not win." Trust in the American people? If only. I thought I could, until recently.

-->

OverCome

As his fleeting thoughts drifted
through the tingles of arousal,
the winds shook the trees free
of their laggard leaves.

The panes of his windows grieved
and creaked beneath the growing frost,
like a blanket of lust
obstructing the light.

October

Beneath the newly fallen night,
a baby cricket - lost in hope -
crawls inside a vacant wine bottle,
escaping, an unexpected frost.

Deteriorating Conditions

Swooping down, she pulled the sky
so high I could see tomorrow.

Giving me wind and a wing, and boy
did I fly!

Until, the sun set, the tailwind
crossed, the skies darkened.

She threw up mountainous thunderheads,
they cut like a shard of glass.

A howling chill cast, from the walls she
shattered in an un-forecasted storm.

The heavy blanket shot
over my heart won't warm the chill,

until the sun rises.

Gibberish

In a fit of elation,
she came to wait for
a life lived,
or lived life?
Rawness and real
shared with you (and them, secretly);
a few here or there, without a feel.

(Those who came to weed,
run with the speed
of pedals ablaze).

Her smile, warped:
A packaged deal of charm
and intrigue by light,
gone dark at night.
The clock ticks on,
without a suitable mention
of her uniform at the cleaners.

Rose Colored Glasses beneath Blue Skies

Standing in the middle of the road
at noon, in June,
the light is paralyzing. Everything shines
in a glow of possibility.
The beauty is surreal, like lies
in a halo; where
love waits, always waits, beyond
the next sunrise.

Re-lay-shun Ships:

past the breakers,
beyond the let downs
and blow ups; erupting
in swirls of chaos,

of swaying hips
and pursed lips,
floating out in
a sea of noise.

Infusion

Reducing myself to a memory;
I'd freeze onto a cloud, floating
over you, falling,

melting upon your tongue,
to be swallowed and absorbed
inside of you, forever.

Icy

Missing

when love speaks
to my heart,
it must be traveling
without a DAMN
map, cause
it gets lost
in the translation…

A Place

What happens when we live in a place that is not ours?
Living in a place without a voice or an affect, or a place to be, okay.
A place where everyone else is right, and you are wrong.  A place where, 'a place to belong' is nonexistent; where your thoughts, ideas, and things are considered to be in the way of everyone elses way.
Living in a place of connection that no one else feels.
A place where everyone else is always screaming, "LOVE ME! HEAR ME! I AM IMPORTANT TOO!"  And yet... you are just an other, an other whom is unworthy and taking up their place and is never loving, or hearing, or seeing them.
A place where there is always an us and a them, and nothing in between.
A place to cry for loneliness and overwhelmingness, concurrently.
A place where this is the human existence, and yet... no one else has a fucking clue that everyone else feels the same way.

a-void

indifferent is neither and nor but,
but always without a care to give,
and so very different than different,
in an out sorta way;
indifferent, not always good
nor bad and not so distant
from a far cry
between
stillness and silence;
where answers lurk...

Weeds

Obscure

A path for hiking, hidden beneath  
briers and weeds and decaying leaves;
dry crunches of forsaken heath,
trees bending and twisting, grieves

for the sun's light to embrace the scene
in an inflamed fit of lust and greed;
an adventure of sites unseen
like words in poems she'll never read.

Endure

In her slithering sultriness
she attacks from the side with the smile
of innocence and the heart of a child
in the breath of a breeze;
suffocating the senses of logic
until he is held captive
in her trance, holding him there
till the moonlight dies.

Escape

dark rooms with
concrete walls built high,
echoes myths;

She opens her eyes.

Altar-ation

A dimly lit lamp
in the corner solely
lighting a book of poetry
stained with tears, still damp

inside: pouring rain--
outside the window,
the wind blows
rattling the pane

in a procession--
as a roaring crowd,
beckoning loud-ly
the call of participation.

My non-poetic side

***Thinking out loud*** (yes, I'm writing, and as I read all of the back and forth banter between "sides" of this conflict or the other, my thoughts are lighting afire for my research paper) Thanks Y'all and thanks for putting up with my ramblings...  Social media is a good place to observe the inner workings of people's thoughts.  People tend to say more, unrestricted comments online than in real life.  I have been working on a semester long research paper for my peace and conflict studies senior seminar...  These are my thoughts about the conflicts that are taking center stage in America right now (i.e., Ferguson, race, religion, politics).

The thesis for my paper is that the reason humans have destructive conflicts is because of the breakdown in communication. This communication breakdown stems from our need of self-preservation, leading us to "other" (us vs them mentality). This othering creates our identity, which begins the cycle again.

When conflict arises, because of this cycle of othering, protection of self, and identity formation, we begin to create atrocity tales (it serves to further our protection of self and identities).

"The term atrocity tale serves as a justification for attacks against individuals and against even the presence of such groups in a society. An atrocity is defined as an event that is perceived as a flagrant violation of a fundamental cultural value, generally characterized by the following elements: 1) some sense of moral outrage and indignation in relation to the perceived value violation; 2) the authorization of some sort of punitive sanction; and 3) the mobilization of control efforts by the offended or injured against the apparent perpetrators.

The veracity of such tales or stories are not the issue. Instead, the major purpose of such allegations is to make the target group stand out from the ordinary providing dramatic evidence of sinister and bizarre actions. Such tales then serve both to justify the assignment of negative labels and as a warrant for extreme actions."

An illustration of my thesis (it's complicated)

Spinning

The earth spins on its axis at a rate of about 1000 mph, making a full rotation in 24 hours.
Simultaneously, the earth is orbiting around the sun at about 67,000 mph at the rate of about once every 365 days.

While this is going on, the sun is being pulled around the center of our galaxy (dragging us along for the ride) moving at a speed of 5000 mph, taking approximately 250 million years to make one cycle around.

Our entire galaxy is circling around the universe at who knows what rate of speed... AND... who knows what the entire universe is circulating around???

Meanwhile the 7 billion people on our little spec of sand in the dark known as earth are fighting over which type of human is best, which ideals are best, who deserves which part of land... and how the rich and powerful can become more rich and powerful. We will shoot you, blow you up, torture you, and make you suffer, all in the name of power. Human beings are some kind of arrogant special....

Effin get over it and let's figure this sh!t out!!!!!!!!
‪
#‎Perspective‬

Solitude

The hour before sun

rise, the furniture

rests. The house

doesn't weep but

cradles me in
its

darkness; before the light

comes. It'll

moan with desire, holding you

out there.