Category: Art

Sep 17 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry X

Art Link

Isolation

Loneliness and Isolation

The mind–yearning, seeking, questing, emerging–female.

The body–betraying the mind–male.

Can one express what it feels like to be transsexual?

Before I was man and was treated like man.

After I will be woman.

Now I am both/neither.

Neither generally wins, excluded from both.

Is it too difficult for others to comprehend

Or is it too difficult for me to explain?

Is there anyone who will accept me as I am

Or will I only be accepted/rejected

For who I was/will be?

Loneliness and isolation nip at the edges of my being.

Certainty becomes expectation.

Expectation becomes hope.

Hopes become dreams.

The dreams dissipate into nothingness.

Another friend is gone.

New friends are made.

Life changes but why must the bridge be so tenuous?

Loneliness and isolation blur my consciousness.

Why must others always bring up the past

Which has become so foreign to me?

The events are there but the feelings are gone.

How do I describe the deeper feelings that have replaced them?

Emotions long submerged boil to the surface

And erupt full-blown into the mind

But there is no one present with whom to share them.

Loneliness and isolation crowd around my soul.

How do I explain the feeling of hormones

Coursing through my body,

Changing it to fit the mind?

How do I deal with the sexuality, the sensuality

Exploding in every nerve ending?

When there is nobody with whom to explore these sensations,

Time slows considerably.

How does one measure the growth of a breast?

With a watch, a sundial, a calendar, or with a life?

Loneliness and isolation seek to smother my existence

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–November, 1992

Sep 16 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry IX

Art Link

Passing through Grey

The Letter

This is just a note

to say goodbye

and warn you

and them…and me

of the drastic change

in our life paths

lying on the other side

of the passage of night

to introduce the person

you will meet tomorrow

when I return

as someone else

a plea to you

to help nurture

this fragile seed

as it germinates

and a heads up

so you can view

or maybe cause

the lighting of the fuse

that will initiate

the explosion

of our separate

and joint realities

a call to witness

the mass reactions

designed to crush

the life out of me

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–September 29, 2006

Sep 15 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry VIII

Art Link

Painful Separation

Love

Love is hard to give…

and harder still to take

Life is hard to live…

unless it’s lived for Love’s sake.

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–July, 1992

Sep 12 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry VII

Art Link

Tarnished Silverpink

Sorry

I’m sorry that you hurt

I’m sorry that in living my life

I have caused you pain

I’m sorry that you are having trouble

attaining your goals

Love may mean

never having to say you’re sorry

But Friendship demands it

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–July, 1992

Sep 12 2008

ICE CREAM 911

By Knucklehead in Art

Today was a special day for me as I picked up my granddaughters for ice cream.

After work, they were hiding behind the door in the entry, & scared me half to death (ya, right) when they jumped out in halloween masks.

We went down into Malibu, for ice cream, & stopped at the memorial to the people who perished on 911.

They had a great time & the memorial was really beautiful.

I was actually surprised at the number of people who`d stopped & parked on the side of the road to enjoy the view over the ocean & sit down to rest, talk, remember etc.

Here is how it felt.

Have a nice day.

You all know I`ve been extremely busy, but I`ll be taking a break, within the next month, & you`ll be seeing more of my images.

Whether that`s a good or bad thing is not up to me to say.

Please click on the main image to see many more images of this day which I will not soon forget.

My girls were a laugh a minute. Their innocence is what keeps me sane, in a real crazy sort of way.

I love them.

http://frenchpirate.blogspot.com/

Sep 11 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry VI

Art Link

Faces

It was fear of the faces

that kept me at bay

recoiling in shock, alarm, disgust

shuddering with contempt, derision, revulsion

hardening into loathing, hatred, and fear

Four decades was a long time

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 11, 2006

Sep 10 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry V:

Art Link

More Blues

Senses

Tears cloud the vision

Silence enshrouds the ears

Touching is denied

Taste and smell are dulled

Pain pierces the heart

Loneliness hammers at the brain

This is how a friendship ends

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–June, 1992

◊ ◊ ◊

Sep 09 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry IV

Art Link

Purple Chasm

Suspended

I was too afraid to release

the life I had, feeling like

I would surely plunge

into the abyss if I did.

Eventually I found

I had nothing to lose,

that maybe the abyss

was where I belonged

So I disentangled myself

from that former existence

and found that I was hanging

inches from solid ground

Ain’t that a bite in the ass.

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–October 31, 2005

Sep 08 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry III

Art Link

The Blues

A Secret

A secret

buried deep within my soul

A secret

hidden from one and all

A secret

too hard for me to tell

A secret

complex enough to kill

A secret

that cannot see the light

A secret

I kept it locked up tight

A secret

leaking out so late

A secret

determining my fate

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–June, 1992

Sep 05 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry II

Art Link

Mask

The Mask

My life was a mask I wore

to hide my secrets

Bleak, flat, colorless

bland was my world

filled with responsibility

devoid of joy

Anguish washes away

meaningful emotion

The mask blinded me

to life’s possibilities

tunnel vision

eroding hope

love tainted by a lie

so immense

it can’t be seen

Lies piled upon lies

a false truth

that comforted

everybody

but me

Meaning dwindled

distorted

Heart broken

blackened

Soul warped

crushed

The walls

of my reality

were too close

Going forward

required

destroying

the mask

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 17, 2006

Sep 04 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry I

Art Link

Organizing a Rainbow

The Migration

I am.

I am a boy.

I am different.

I am supposed to be who my family wants me to be.

I am bad.

Something is wrong with me.

Something is wrong about me being a boy.

I have to be who my mother wants me to be.

I am supposed to be a boy.

I am counter-culture.

I am supposed to be a man.

I am supposed to be a husband.

I have to be who my wife wants me to be.

I am supposed to be a father.

I have to be who my daughter needs me to be.

I am caught.

I have to be who society wants me to be.

I am a soldier.

I am a student.

I am a teacher.

I have to be who my employers want me to be.

I am unhappy.

I am suicidal.

I have to take a chance on being who I want me to be.

I am afraid.

I am really a woman.

I really am a woman.

I am a transsexual.

I am proud.

I am transsexual.

I am a transsexual woman.

I am transgendered.

I am transgressively-gendered.

I am queer.

I am gender-variant.

I am Robyn.

I am free.

I am me.

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–September 22, 1998

Sep 03 2008

Muse in the Morning

By Robyn in Art, Community, Poetry

Muse in the Morning

Humans prepare for the future all their lives,

yet meet the next life totally unprepared.

—Drakpa Gyaltsen

Phenomena XXXV: posterity

River of Time

Note in a Bottle

Words

strung like beads

into thoughts

woven

into frayed patches

a fragile parchment

from your past

A note

in a bottle

set adrift

in the river

of time

If the words

reach you

can you see too it

that they are read

and then sent

once again

on their way

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–May 16, 2008