Transcendencies
A Transgender Manifesto
by
Jennifer Angelina Petro
We are all transcendentalists
Seeking to live above duality and paradox,
We are all transcendent,
Shining across space and time in clouds
Of oxygen and carbon, hydrogen and nitrogen;
Each and every one of us transcends
Something, or someone, or somehow
Or someday—just to be able to stand here catching our breath—
We transcend and we become—
It is as simple as that.
Our blood streams are transcontinental,
Our lives holy translations of spirit and soul,
And if we are lucky, we sense ourselves being
Transcribed onto the pages of the world
And can take comfort in knowing
Our lives are written, revised, edited, and published
By storylines far greater than ours—
We are all transfigured, like Jesus on the transmountain
And then resurrected to life everlasting
Every time we transcend ourselves to become ourselves–
Life is nothing but a series of ongoing
Transplantations and transferals of fluids and spirit–
We transmogrify our way through life–
And time is transinfinite—shifting over and ever through
Many transhistorical points of references
That are increasingly transcultural and transhuman, and
Full of blood and wishes—
Everything we do, say, or think
Is transformative, setting events into motion
That change us and our world—
We are all transients and haven’t a clue—
Even beyond our so-called beliefs, where or when, how, or why
We will be transformed and/or transported
To otherness, to other transpossibilities—
Our spirits translocate and love transelevates us—
We are transpirited and our souls translucent,
Transmissible, and transoceanic—-
Why not rejoice and dance with one another
And love the best of who we are?
Yes, I am transpierced with pain,
Yes, I have been transplanted inside
And the ground softens with every step;
Yes, I am transpolar and songs and poems
Come aching to be transubstantiated into form through me,
And yet, even as I move through a series
Of neverending transversals only to find myself
Transported into more hatred, ignorance,
And shadow-driven insecurities of the white men—
I am still here—I have not given up yet—
I transilluminate boundaries
That no longer have solid meaning—they never did,
But now monsters are waking up to the truth that gender
Is not fixed—it is transfixed—and no longer the transaxle
Of a tired binary sustained by them—the white men—
Whose own genitals they never truly know,
Or love, or transform into possibilities without shame—
Even though everything about people like me is transubstantiated
By living, breathing experience—for here I am, and yet I am told
I do not exist—I am told I do not deserve to exist—
Even though everything exists based on continuous
Transformations of spirit and body,
And long, transcendent series of moments
Spilling into other moments into which we are all
Given choices to hurt or to heal, love or to hate,
Explore or destroy—and the occurrences of transpeople
Hurting anyone are rare—for true transpeople
Understand pain as few others do————-
What makes you think you can transpose
An already faulty belief system to justify or rationalize
Your unjustifiable and irrational actions and laws?
Do you really think humanity will not eventually wise up
To your genocidal ways?
Be ye transported into a land where transcendencies
Are accepted as commonplace—because, in actuality,
They already are—
We all transmute oxygen and water
And food into our transubstantiating metabolisms—
Everything we do is a transaction of time and space
Body, mind, spirit, soul—no matter how far we move
From one another, we are all transactors,
And our breath transoceanic, and our lives
Transferrable with one another’s—
It will happen despite your barbaric ideas—
I will not be transfixed by your gaze—You
Who cannot think past your own shadow—
I am a living transmission of messages
Who illuminates your small mindedness.
I am not here to inspire some kind
Of transcultural revolution—
I AM a revolution—I am
Transfiguration transanimated by my every movement,
And I live as a thorn in the side
Of the white man who has lost any ability—
Indeed—if they ever had any—to transmute limited thinking
Into growth, evolution, wisdom, common sense—
Love and true, “Christian” charity—
The Jesus transfigured on the mount does not know
Hatred—no matter what Paul tried to tattoo
Onto him—Jesus was transgender—transforming
God-seed into woman-flesh—
And back again to seed and flower for all eternity—You can know this
With all certainty, if you will only look past your own
Untouched, unloved, unabused genitals—
Jesus came to transfigure you and to set your limited beliefs on fire,
Jesus came to give you a transfusion to flush out
Your hatred both of yourself and of those
Who truly live as he suggested—steeped in the beatitudes
So deeply as to be transcribed into living testaments
Of love’s transcendent power—
Come, shed your mantles of tissue and weariness,
Come shed your tired ideological transparencies,
And transmigrate with me to a way of living where Jesus reigns
Alongside the mother tree and the angels
Of transmogrification, and beings of transdimensional
Singing and dancing—
For we all transpire–and will–sooner than we want,
Life is transonic, yes, but it is death that comes at the speed of sound—
And when it does we shall all be transposed against a backdrop of light
And seen for how we really lived and breathed—
So live now with me, with us—we are your brothers and sisters
And siblings of light transilluminated with holy,
And unending folly and grace, and joy transacted
Into countless transferals—let us all be
Translocated into here and now—transgiven
Transcendencies in love, sweet love,
Everlasting.
