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On the Third Day

I have written this to protest violence against trans women. However, I am, as far as I currently know, a cis woman which means: a. you should–over and above reading this–check out writings by trans women such as Trish Salah, Dane Edidi. And Monica Roberts, and b. if I have been unintentionally offensive to any trans women, I would like to know so that I can change or remove this poem.

TW: a scene of violence against a trans woman in the second stanza, heavy Christian themes throughout

On the Third Day

He was murdered with His arms splayed wide,

Exposing the ark of His ribs beneath His bruising skin.

He was stripped naked by His murderers,

So they could point to His testicles as proof that He was a liar.

“you’re a man,” they accused Him, and in a premeditated rage,

They killed Him for living as the enby Godman He was predestined to be.

They all pled innocent under religious zeal for the living God,

And were commended for their adherence to the Leviticle Law.

She was murdered with her arms splayed wide,

To show the scarcity of breast tissue beneath her bruising skin.

She was stripped naked by her murderers,

So they could point to her testicles as proof that she was a liar.

You’re a man,” they accused her, and in a premeditated rage,

They killed her for living as the woman she was created to be.

They all pled innocent under a trans panic defense,

And were commended for their adherence to Christ-like principles.

Yahweh was murdered with Her wings splayed wide,

Exposing the ark of Her covenant beneath Her grieving Spirit.

She was stripped naked by Her murderers,

Because they tore off the clothes of Jesus Christ and Loni Kai.

“God is not dead,” we proclaimed, while in a religious rage

We took the lives of Her children for living like their Mother.

They were pierced through because of our iniquities, they were crushed because of our transgressions,

And by their wounds we are condemned.

“Where are your trans sisters, what have you done?

The voice of their blood is crying out to Me from the ground where you have spilled it.

I will meet you like a mother bear robbed of her cubs. Why do you claim to love Me,

While you spend your time murdering these women who are born from My womb?

It is your destruction that you have been against Me.

I will gather them to My breasts like a mother bear saving her cubs.

Every three days you murder another of My daughters, assuming My Son’s blood will absolve you of your bloodguiltiness,

But I, while exposing your shame, have transfused them with life and a queen’s glory on the third day.”

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Posted by on October 8, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

When God’s Bloodstream Touches Our Spirit

TW: sex as a metaphorical means of talking about God’s relationship within the Godhead and with humans, slight but explicit profanity

God doesn’t give an F—. Ok.
Go ahead, fill in the blank.
What did you say?
Well, you were right.
Your words were terse and not polite,
But they were true.
God doesn’t give a fuck about you,
Or I or anybody if a reality check is what we’re doing,
Because God doesn’t mess around.

God is making love with God.
YAHWEH and Jesus and the Spirit are knowing One Another, Biblically.
And sex ed hasn’t prepared us for the anatomy and gender and preference They are sharing in the Godhead.
And the Word won’t just tell us about the love being shared in God’s bed. He has to show us.
And our bodies haven’t shown us what the orgasming among the Trinity feels like. we have to receive it,
By loving one another: by being the neighbor:

By handing the justice system over to people of color,
By repenting to Muslims,
By respecting sex workers,
By embracing transgender women as our sisters,
Transgender men as our brothers, and enby folks as our siblings.
By welcoming immigrants,
By giving America back to its owners,
By electing disabled people to be our governing leaders,
By aligning ourselves with God’s LGBT children,
By handing gun control over to people who are mentally ill, and
By working to end the violence which has numbed us to God’s orgasms.

You say, and you are right, these are not the ten commandments,
Since this list doesn’t even come close to comprehensive
Of the ways we should be changing to obey God’s law.
Although there is only one command, and it’s the one we’re always breaking,
But it’s okay, we’re redeemed, right? We’ve received our justification
By writing God’s name in the blood which we keep spilling,
By forgiving Jesus’s blood with our white inerrant privilege.
It has sinned by refusing to justify our hatred.
No one has seen God at any time.
But the person who is loving their siblings is making love with God,
Because God does not give a fuck about us.
But God loves us.

 

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Ghosts in my Closet, Feeling in my Bones

TW: internalized religious homophobia
I never see God’s affirmation of me as clearly as I do when I am looking at my LGBTQ siblings. A litany of fear-based questions met with answers of condemnation drowns out my faith, but when my thoughts turn to my siblings it is silenced. No one can deny the Spirit of God that is living in them, no matter how hard they thump the clobber passages. One of these days I will also be able to see myself through God’s affirmation. Until then…

Some days I feel firm and grounded in Your love,
An affirmation of Your image and thus affirmed by Your words: “It is good”.
On those days I feel called in Your Name, YAHWEH,
To stoke Your love and justice by burning down my closet.
On those days I feel guided by Your Name, YAHWEH,
to choose to let my sexuality orient me toward the margins.
On those days I feel convicted by Your Name, YAHWEH,
To come out to those who know me for an increased chance of their conversion.
On those days I am living Your Ghost,
By obeying Your commandment to:

“Render to all what is due them, and pay fully the debt which you owe.
And you have seen that no amount of your blood is enough for you to make atonement.
But you have seen that, in Jesus, I have bruised My Own Ghost,
And you have seen that, by dying for you, I am loving My Own Ghost.
So go, be fruitful in the Spirit, and don’t count the cost”
Love YAHWEH with all of yourself by loving your neighbor reflexively:
By using violence to protect people oppressed with the selflessness of antifascists,
And by using tenderness to reach out to your own oppressor, surrendering all vengeance to Me.
By loving all with no regard to race, gender, orientation, and ability,
And by giving all regard to these differences in order to love one another fully.
You owe nothing less than to love.”

On those days I can hear you in our midst,
Singing over us with joy and exaltation, and resting in Your love for us, saying:
“We have made humans in Our image:
Every race and tongue and origin, male and female and intersex,
From transgender through cisgender and enby, gay through bi through straight and ace, every
Spectrum of Our Being is represented in them collectively,
And they are good.”

On other days I feel drained of Your presence,
Hollow, as though the widening of hell’s mouth has entered me,
Convinced of my death by the words: “I never knew you”.
On those days I am chaotic with doubt,
And certain of my fear that I have never known You.
On those days I do not feel called in Your Name, YAHWEH,
Not even to come and meet You for the first time.
On those days I feel like a vain expression of Your Name, YAHWEH,
And a stumbling block to everyone around me whom You are calling.
Uncalled, a clanging cymbal, useless to those who are truly oppressed.
I feel empty of Your ghost and devoid of any worth
Unless, I obey Your commandments to:

“Lose your own life for My sake.
If your ears threaten to be the start of your attraction to another woman,
Take up My nails and perforate the membranes.
It is better for you to enter into My presence deaf,
Than to have the ability to hear and be thrown by Me into hell.
And if your heart threatens to hold love for another woman,
Crucify it with conversion and conformity and suppression.
It is better for you to enter into My presence depressed and suicidal,
Than for you to be well and be thrown by Me into hell.
And if any part of your somatic existence threatens to give you no choice,
Give up your ghost and abandon yourself.
It is better for you to enter into My presence stripped of your identity,
Than to be fully yourself and be thrown by Me into hell.”

On those days I feel a vacuum in my midst,
Suckling on all my anxious thoughts, and compressing me with apathy.
If You want me changed, then remake me in Your image.
But I refuse to love a God Who rejects me and my siblings.
Would not a loving God, as such, command such a refusal?
If You affirm me, please, come reassure me with Your presence.
Without you I am pointless, a ghost wasting Your precious breath.
I am only able to see Your affirmation when looking at my siblings.
Even when spilled by the fruits of hatred, their precious blood has not been wasted.
Their murder is a blasphemy to Your Holy Spirit, and You are burning with their vengeance in Your bones,
So, since You are a loving God, I want to be living Your Ghost, to death.

 
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Posted by on May 10, 2018 in poetry

 

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