Woman

Jay Rose Ana

A poetic journey into gender transition

  1. 08/05/2021

    Transgender Dinosaurs

    An original spoken word poem about being transgender and feeling like an endangered species.   TRANSGENDER DINOSAURS A million years passed right on by. Countless dinosaurs lived and died. A fricking great meteor struck the sea. Humans woke to what they could be. Then turned and looked the other way. Someone else’s problem today.  Thousands more years, fell on deaf ears. Monuments stood thousands of years. Millions of lives, slaves cast in stone. Forgotten today, largely unknown. And arguments, and fights, and wars. Over lands, and skies, and fields and shores. Hundreds of years trading on fears. Promises for sale, delivering tears. The skies now filled with chimney smoke. Ashen hopes in a filthy cloak. Loosening grasp of what life means. Forget the beautiful things we've seen. Tens of years yet millions of tears. Wondering why, hiding with fears. Went by for us, lines for a bus. Fake deals, two for them one for us. Turning the dial, earning a dime. Struggling to survive, turning to crime. Months pass on by, silently shout. Why am I here? What's life all about? Some standing tall, bursting with pride. Some can't wait to get off this ride. Some cry, some fall, some die, some shout. Most shrinking small, veiled in doubt. Hours go by, we run out of tea. To the shops, dishing hate to me. Braving past the ‘isms and ‘phobes. Virtue signals, turning their nose. Clenching fists and keeping scores. Oh god! I miss the dinosaurs. (c) Jay Rose Ana ►  SOCIAL MEDIA • website ➭ https://www.jayroseana.com/ • tiktok ➭ https://www.tiktok.com/@jayroseana • pinterest ➭ https://www.pinterest.co.uk/jayroseana/ • twitter ➭ https://twitter.com/jayroseana/ • reddit ➭ https://www.reddit.com/user/jayroseana/ • youtube ➭ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEkO46xhPeMlYHGpiwXJlgQ

    Transgender Dinosaurs
  2. 07/31/2021

    The Canvas Weeps

    Original spoken word poetry about feeling out of place. THE CANVAS WEEPS Is what I am doing selfish? Is that why I feel alone? Surrounded by understanding faces. Making carefully considered spaces. For them, not me, the different one. Slowly extracting me from them, Through the label of assurity. They call it inclusion. Yet, I feel an intrusion. Into their normality. A juxtaposition of morality. Some think it a triviality. Some call it, losing my marbles. Some call it, tolerance and understanding. Some use transphobic language, A lexicon, created for people like me. A gift, from the world, Thank you so much for describing me. Another form of labelling. An abstraction of a human painting. Framed within an open prison. Solitary. Alone. Disconnected. Surrounded by walls of solidarity. I am, for the world to see, a moment in time. Stillness captured, but I am, and always will be, me. A dichotomy. So, I smile, and I wonder. If they will ever see, the love between the layers of me. They do look on with appreciation. For the sacrifice they make in the name of we. But I am no more than a blend of their tones. Artwork for its colour than meaning. Sporadically put on show, placed prominently, Then veiled and left to gather dust. Just inside the glance of passing feet. But just outside the reach of a heartbeat. So, dust it is, my only friend. A unique perspective. A beautiful never. A lost forever. A sealed window to a selfish me. And there, right there, amongst the dust. The colours fade. As the years pass, The frame gently splinters. And over many, many, winters. The dust keeps, And the canvas weeps. (c) Jay Rose Ana ►  SOCIAL MEDIA • website ➭ https://www.jayroseana.com/ • tiktok ➭ https://www.tiktok.com/@jayroseana • pinterest ➭ https://www.pinterest.co.uk/jayroseana/ • twitter ➭ https://twitter.com/jayroseana/ • reddit ➭ https://www.reddit.com/user/jayroseana/ • youtube ➭ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEkO46xhPeMlYHGpiwXJlgQ

    The Canvas Weeps
  3. 07/26/2021

    1976 Nancy Boy

    Original spoken word poetry about gender dysphoria and growing up in the 1970s. 1976 NANCY BOY Smoke. Industrial smoke. Chimney smoke. Thick smoke from un-serviced motor cars. Smoke from life-long chain smokers, roll ups, Cigarettes of a thousand brands, Filled with rubbish shared by dirty hands. Rubbish in filthy streets piled so high, Swarms of houseflies don’t have to try. And bile, darned socks, and untied laces, String-tied shorts, hand-me-down unwashed shirts, Kicking cans with dirty washed faces. Laughing at a dying cat, trampled, kicked, Not even left to scream its last breath. Furless tail, passed round, a party piece. Tossed like trash into the old canal, Stones and sticks, a welcome grasp below. Finding splice amongst shopping trolleys. The wail of sirens pierces laughter. The merry group, off to school, to learn, Of things, their brief lives, will never use. The furnace awaits, smoke and fumes. Cheap cigarettes at the school gates, Under the headmaster’s watching eye. Cane in hand, face or hands, he doesn’t mind. Teachers leave the quiet kid alone, Circled by captors standing on thrones. Taunting the Nancy boy, he submits. Bruised, crying, the shrieking school bell sounds, And he, accepts his fate, floating down. Beyond hope, into the dumbed down depths, Holding breath, in the classroom canal. Finding splice with dead bugs in his desk. It is better than the place called home. A painful whack wakes the escape. Smirks, and pain, and taunts, his classroom friends. A Nancy boys life, so she must wait, and hold her breath. (c) Jay Rose Ana ►  SOCIAL MEDIA • website ➭ https://www.jayroseana.com/ • tiktok ➭ https://www.tiktok.com/@jayroseana • pinterest ➭ https://www.pinterest.co.uk/jayroseana/ • twitter ➭ https://twitter.com/jayroseana/ • reddit ➭ https://www.reddit.com/user/jayroseana/ • youtube ➭ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEkO46xhPeMlYHGpiwXJlgQ

    1976 Nancy Boy

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A poetic journey into gender transition