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Untitled Passion - Writers Nook

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I’m not your little wall flower
Someone to look at who will never respond.
I will never be society’s doll
Or play the part you gave me.
I will never sit in acquiescence
Or mumble thanks to your criticism.
I refuse to respect those who don’t respect me
My mind
My body
My sexuality
I refuse to wait in silence
Yet I wait
For the time when I can strike
Make you listen!
I will not be binary
Life never was meant to be black or white
Or to even make sense.
I will help my brothers and sisters
To tear the thread of hate from their lips.
The thread YOU had sewn on
And with bloody lips, we’ll speak the truth.
The truth you wished to silence.
We shall heal from your oppression
And rise
Rise above
And tear down these walls
That you placed up to hide from reality.
We will scrape down those walls
And with bloody hands, reach for you
Grab you and embrace you.
Let you escape from your fear, your hate
Your internalized pain
You can no longer ignore our cries
Of pain,
And fear.

(I'm still working on this one some so feedback would be appreciated. Feel free to add some of your own poetry as well.)


A little angry perhaps but I can't think of anyone who wouldn't agree with the sentiment. It's good!


I wrote these two about being trans:

Mirror, Mirror
Ginevra “Ethan” Pfohl


Looking in the mirror,
I am horrified.
Whoever is looking back,
is not me.

This person,
I have no connection with;
somehow the mirror got my gender wrong,
my hair’s red, not brown,
straight, sleek and shiny, not a tangled mop.
And I thought I had green eyes.

But I’m just so terrified
to show

That the mirror is wrong.


So why does it have to be
that I have so much trouble
accepting who I am,
and accepting society’s stigmas
about being a
Transgendered young woman
That I’m reduced to writing a stupid,
Poem for class that I’ll pretend to pass off as something
that should be taken as a joke, or a measure of my creativity
in order to
Come out?


Yes, I know you are who
I truly am.

I’m sorry
I’m such a lousy coward,
and I don’t want to hide
Not any more.

I love you,
and I’m proud of you.
I don’t know how long it will be,
but I promise you,
one day,
I will embrace


And this one, which is quite emo:

She sits at the table, sipping her soda like wine
Thinking about tomorrow
And thinking about all the other tomorrows,
waking in her foreign body.

It’s uncomfortable in here,
she whimpers.
It doesn’t feel right,
she grumps
I hate what this is making me!
What other people see!
She screams
Screams for release

I could take my life away
not have to worry about waking
to another cloudy day.
I would meet my maker
I could make sure he knows exactly how
I feel
what he did to me.

She schemes.

Now she’s out of soda
And out of ideas,
so she
waits for
day to rise.

Anyway, I always appreciate a goo, well rounded, thought-out review! =)


Wow, it's really good. I couldn't help but wonder if you've read Luna by Julie Anne Peters. I have a feeling that you'd be able to connect very well with her.


I did just read Luna haha a friend of mine loaned it to me, and boy did I ever connect with her!


Yeah, Julie Anne Peters is one of my favorite authors. I have all of her books. Grl 2 Grl you might like as well. A friend of mine more recently confused me with one of his writings that he wrote after watching a program on transexuality.

1. Today I woke up, took a shower, and got dressed. My mom gave me a hassle about not shaving. I just slunk off to school.
2. I met up with my friends today after school. Jim built up a tower of soda cans and we all had to hit only one with a stone. The first person who knocked more than one lost. We have fun.
3. I finally shaved away my stubble. I know it will all come back in a week or two.
4. It didn’t. I wonder if there might be something wrong with my face. I don’t remember eating anything weird.
5. Still my face is smooth. Yay no shaving, boo emasculinity.
6. Today in gym class I couldn’t lift 100 lbs. Gotta work out more.
7. I went to the Gym. It gets harder and harder each time. Maybe I should just rest for a few days.
8. My muscles are shrinking! I looked at myself in the mirror and my arms are definitely smaller. I talked to my mom about it. I asked her if I had MS or something. She only laughed and said something like I’ve always been that way.
9. God, every time I go to the gym my mom makes a snappy remark about it. “Finally!” or “I didn’t know you were into that.” I stopped going just to shut her up.
10. Ok this is weird. I’m getting fatter, my chest is starting to stick out like man-boobs. What the hell am I eating?
11. I’m now monitoring what I eat. I’ll eat a bread roll and a pancake in the morning but that’s pretty much it. I’m not anorexic, I’m just curious if the man tits will leave.
12. My thighs are expanding an dmy chin is wearing away. I look at my old photos and I see me, a young boy, sitting in a sand box, or playing on monkey bars. I resurfaced recent pictures and showed them to my mother. She says I haven’t changed a bit. When I asked her what she meant, she pointed out features that I couldn’t see on the picture.
13. Today I woke up, and my penis was gone. Gone! Now there’s this deep hole inside of me. I rushed downstairs to scream but found my entire family waiting for me in the living room. They said that I wasn’t eating right—that I was a beautiful young woman. They said I shouldn’t starve myself.
I ran away from home an hour later. I’m now writing this from a hotel.
14. I still cannot believe it.
15. I’m a woman.
16. I’m a woman.
17. I’m a man!
18. I still feel the same, maybe things will be the same as they once were if I got an operation. I’m seriously considering it. I’ve got the number for a doctor who does those kinds of things on a piece of paper above my bed.
19. First, I will need a job. I looked in the newspaper and I found a job opening at this diner. A waiter sounds nice.
20. The pay is good, the co-workers are bad. Yesterday, one of the dishwashers smacked me on the ass. I wanted to punch his lights out. Still considering the ad above my bed.
21. My mother called me on my cell-phone. She told me that she missed her sweet baby girl. I can’t stand her calling me that. I told her about my plans to get the sex-operation and she hung up the phone.
22. Today I got 22 e-mails from my cousins and aunts and uncles. They all warned me about not accepting who I really was. They said I would rot in hell.
23. I’m not really sure what to do.
24. I’m kinda not sure what to do.
25. I know what I have to do, but it will be hard to live with.
26. I go to surgery in a week.
27. Today is the day. Wish me luck.
28. I’m in the waiting room. There was a group outside with signs and chanting religious slurs. I don’t care. I just want to get this thing over with.
29. A doctor comes in, and asks me if I really want to do this. I say yes of course and I pull out my high school ID card. He says he only sees a beautiful young woman. I persistently told him that the picture clearly depicts a guy.
30. Dr. Morrins was the only doctor that could see the real ID picture. I was so relieved. He said that the process would be long, and asked me once more if I really wanted to do this. I said yes of course.
He filled em with anesthesia and told me that things would be alright again. I hoped he was right. I hoped with all my heart that he was.

31. Today I woke up, took a shower, and got dressed. My mom gave me a hassle about not shaving. I just slunk off to school.


Sounds like a sort of poem about being female-to-male trans (?) It's kinda wild and a bit confusing, but I really like it, I can understand that feeling of hitting puberty and be like WTF!


Yeah, he wrote it, he has awesome talent. lol I actually envy him for his skill some. I'm currently working on a short story and a few poems as well. Need to get stuff done. Hopefully even enter them into some writing contests and get some money for college.


It looks like you guys all have a lot of talent!

Here's one I wrote ages ago in a lecture... it really sucks, but my others are on a different computer and I cba to find them. I'm currently working on a collection on motherhood, which I feel really quite unauthorised to write about, but it's been all I can write about for the past few months. Anyway, this one is not really at all about motherhood and is more of a doodle than an actual poem.

To Lost Sailors
by Heather McLean

streaks of white in the
glistening grey tell
of lost sailors’ last
thoughts unheard, unsung

droplets unified crash,
are sent,
carried by cushioning air
to mingle with the

Tears of old widows.
Wrinkled folds of skin
Serve as the channels
For lacrimations.

Their watery eyes
Paled blue over years
Uncounted, gazing
towards horizons.


Pretty good Heather. I'd like to see some of your other work sometime. :3

This one I wrote about 3 years ago. I wrote it in response to this one girl rejecting me. A year later she confessed that she DID love me... but couldn't date me because of family reasons. Just a few days ago she took me out for dinner and told me that her girlfriend's jealous of me because she talks about me often... and that she still loves me but I'm always unavailable when she is now.

Bleeding Heart
By: Lee "Mouse" Bauer

Staring out a dirty window trying to see into your heart
but unlike others you're not so clear,
and it's tearing me apart
knowing that I can't be near
I want to be with you
but you only push away
I really need to know if you love me too
so I can live happy some other day
I don't want to be a burden
I don't want to give you pain
but every time I see you I can no longer get a word in
and I'm sick of all this blame
and I want to see you smile
for when I'm with you I feel more than fine
so no more crying against this cold tile
and maybe in time
you will see me in a new light
and I'll end this little rhyme
wanting to make everything right
for I wont give up, I'm out for a fight
I'm not a little weakling
but though I try as I might
I can only show but an inkling
of how much I truly love you
you're my inspiration my ray of sun shine
and I'll admit that I lied for it's true
it's more than just a crush, can you be mine?

This I wrote 2 years ago while dealing with a lot of drama and had just came out to my mom.

The Clock Goes On
By: Lee "Mouse" Bauer

The clock goes on
as the tears still fall.
For confusion, fear... the song.
Echoing against the wall
tick drop tick drop tick drop tick drop
it slithers down my wrists
warm, sticky, filled with life; don't stop.
Murmurs all around from faceless lips
telling lies with no shame
tick drop tick drop tick drop tick drop
all these feelings have no name
warm sticky; filled with life... please stop
But it wont end, these sickening sounds
on and on, one two, one two
down and out; I begin to drown
reaching for hope, dreams, love... you
hands so warm, pulling me near
don't let me go...
keep me close, let me hear
your voice close by and take it slow
soft, warm and strong you seem,
at first glance it's what you are
but you tremble too, looking for a seed
of hope, change; a heart

This one is actually one of my oldest, and is actually published in a poetry book along with other poems of other amateur poets who signed up for the poetry contest.

Falling Cage
By: Lee "Mouse" Bauer

Falling, Falling, ever falling,
the wind around me's howling.
Please take this key
and place it by my knee
So that I can be released from this cage.
For all that exists is hate and rage
in my falling cage.


Thanks, and you may yet.
Your style is really cool and kinda reminds me of Ani Difranco in a way - possibly the rhythm, especially in Bleeding Heart. Do you write them to be sung?


Nah, I actually tend to have them in my mind for a while before I write them down. Often it's just one or two lines that's just stuck in my head for a few days or hours before I get the chance to get them out.


That's kinda interesting... 'cause most of the time I go about it completely differently! I usually have an idea about what I want to write before any words come to me, then I work my idea into a shape plan, using a few key words as placeholders, and find techniques that express what I want to say. :S It's technical and not really very 'romantic', but... it's the truth. Occasionally I have the odd poem that I just write straight out, but I then go back and re-write half the lines and work out syllable counts and so on.


Ah, I tend to be unable to go back to a poem or story and fix it after it's written. Granted I can add things but I find it hard to delete sections and put something else in it's place. To me that's like taking a sledge hammer to a side of a building and hoping it holds.


Gosh, I never really thought of it that way before! It's nice to get a fresh perspective on the ways things work for other people. How long have you been writing?


Mmm, I started writing back in 9th grade... though, it was more technically 8th grade. I just didn't realize I had any talent in poetry until 9th. (I'm in 12th now...) My English teacher back then had us write multiple different poems and bind them, and the one girl that I liked loved my poems and so I gave them to her. She still has them... but she and I don't talk anymore... so it kinda sucks 'cause I'd kinda like to be able to share my firsts.


I'm Fine
By Lee "Mouse" Bauer

How was I to know
That your anger would not cease?
That it would boil to and fro?
That it would scrape along the crease
Of every relationship that I held dear?

Was I supposed to read your mind
To know that it was not ok?
That our friendship would be fined
All because you cannot keep your emotions at bay?
Or am I the only one who finds this a bit queer?

Not in the sexuality sort of way my dear,
But in a bizarre yet eloquent way of saying
Fuck you in your cellulose inflated rear
As you scream at me, your saliva spraying
In my face as you insult my very soul

But hey, what would you say
If I told you the whole truth?
Would you still stand in the gray
Of night and call me uncouth?
Or will you see me as what I am: Unwhole?

(Just wrote this... probably could be better.... had a little too much to drink... well... first poem of the year... Happy New Years.)

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