Skip to main content

If wishes were wine, I’d have a hangover.

Field Notes In/On Transition.

If wishes were wine, I’d have a hangover.

I’m not really sure what that means, but I’m going with that as my catchy title.

I had another big long yadda-yadda after the poem, but it's still too much a yadda-yadda, so I'm going to keep it a bit shorter and work on the rest of it all week, until I figure out what it is I'm saying there.

This poem I wrote the other day...  from scratch even. Usually I rewrite these things endlessly before showing anyone... but this is a draft (a few days of rewriting as opposed to weeks, months, years) I think is reasonably ready for consumption. It may or may not resemblance to anything I've done in the past. It's very much unpolished, so I have no distance to say so.

It also has little to do with my transition, other than the story of how the inspiration for it came about. The other day after talking with my mom, writing the last blog entry, and I feel making a few real, but tentative steps in the direction of being a functioning member of my family/friend circle... I was sitting with an ice cold beer and a good book, in the early mid evening in my beautiful backyard which is so abundantly alive with birds, cats insects, raccoons, and so on.... 

I was watching what I call “the Wall of Flowers” (pictured left, behind me)  and a hummingbird floated in as they do, sometimes. This little bird hummed and leapt off flower petals to other flowers for a solid five minutes. I sat in awe. smiling, not moving myself, as much as I wanted to run and grab my camera, I instead stayed put and experienced the cornucopia of sweets that the humming bird was enjoying.

After the little bird had it’s fill and zipped off to another backyard, I thought “Now, how can i call myself a poet if I can’t get a poem out of that”. For a few days it was on my mind constantly, until I had no choice but to sit down and pour it out. Which is pretty much how the magic happens for me. 

It happened for me pretty much constantly in my 20’s, early 30’s, but as I aged and had less and less melodrama (and real drama sometimes) in my life, I also retreated from having much of a life, except when I made a point of doing so. Until, well all I had left was transition. Which is a much slower story arc than I had ever imagined, despite all appearances to the contrary. 

So here it is... my first poem written since wholly since I started my transition. This is early days for any poem of mine, and I can almost guarantee it will be edited further, but here it is....

the humming bird passes through

the wall of flowers
draining each 
                 blue blossom
ignoring all the pink 
                             and the red

their petals outstretched 
                      looking for love
they will get from a fat drunk 
                                 bumble bee later on
when I have gone back 

but for now

I’m quiet
       drinking ice cold beer
invisible sips of my own
                         while the bird hums 
from blue petal to blue petal
spring-boarding off the
             downward aiming
blue petals
with a Nadia Comaneci kind of
that I haven’t seen in my
                          backyard since 
the time the local cats
                 had that ballet recital
that ended in screeching tears 
                         and bloody tufts 
of fur that wafted throughout 
the garden
little alien spores of death
... all their kitty ears 
bitten torn
into cracked 
or that time sitting on my stoop, 
                       cupping my face 
away from the bitter 
shards of the November wind
                         I spied in the corner of

the doorway
       a spider spinning his
webs around a fly who
                            had gotten in over
his head
       As the spider threw silk
it seemed as though he
                   were boxing with the
fly, throwing jabs, 
       lefts rights
       and in the end
                    a devastating 
silken haymaker that made
the fly’s tiny head
                        disappear before
my naked

© 2012 Josie Boyce.


Popular posts from this blog

Video Blog DOXA 2017

My response to see an almost 3 hour documentary about Chris Marker (Chris Marker, Never Explain, Never Complain) and two of Marker's great documentaries, Une Journée d’Andrei Arsenevitch (One Day In The Life Of Andrei Arsenevich) and, Le Souvenir d'un avenir (Remembrance of Things to Come)

All three films were awesome, and made me want to tak ephotos and video of the Q&A with the film makers of Never Explain... Then naturally it occurred to me, walking home seeing the poster from the end of this film, DO WHAT YOU LOVE. i did, i made a dorky little film. A documentary/ sure.

Indolent Spinster Weekly Report #5

Music Talk with your  Indolent Spinster,  Josie Boyce.
Thoughts towards a Trans Soundtrack for Generation X Trans Folk. 

This one is just thoughts in movie form about music, the 80's, gender and me. none of it is very deep. it's just the start of a conversation. I will dig deeper in further weekly reports! I thought about narrating it, but didn't like how i was rushing it, the pace is better just reading the text, and is more what this film wanted to be. I'm just the vessel. Sometimes the vessel speaks, sometimes it just texts.

As a kid I was embarrassed but secretly over the moon about any song, movie or tv show that referenced trans-ness, in however vague or concrete. The movies were completely horrifying or campy generally, with trans characters being murderers or prostitutes or mentally ill, some combo thereof... in TV land it was more men in dresses kind of humour. Either way you had to scour visual media  to find any ‘positive’ role models, I never fo…

Indolent Spinster Weekly Report #9

Indolent Spinster Weekly Report #9

9 movies I can watch any time of day or night pretty much.

The Maltese Falcon
Midnight Run
Young Frankenstein
Raiders Of the Lost Ark
Citizen Kane
The Breakfast Club
His Girl Friday
Nights Of Cabiria

Lots of other films out there, but I wanted to do a list of nine, and these are literally the first 9 I thought of. The list is in no particular order. All of the films are obviously favourites, but if I was making a best of list as opposed to a most re-watchable, it would be different. some films require more time passing between viewings than others, in my opinion. I don’t even really like rating a film until i have seen it at least a few times over several years. Tastes and times change.