POETRY BY THEODORE JAMES
the pot: past tense
as a child I loved you more than anything
cold, damp, square of a something
in your stillness you wriggled with the potential to become
my fingers inserted in your flesh
a promise of your anything properties
assurance that though painful, this body
would surely transform
i think i loved you in the same breath
i envied, careful not to bend or mold too quickly
in my own impatient conquest
conquest is too harsh
you were not a land but a child,
not a claim but a muse
i protected you from the damnation
of undefinition
helped you transition from a block
to a body
gave you features
a dream
a name
a home
all the things i had not been able
to determine for myself
i missed you when they cooked you
my half of a heart sung forlornly to the
mystery of the kiln
would you come back, a new creature?
or would the heat of such change
leave you in pieces?
wrong idea
11 years old and all i think about are
mustaches and monkeys
boyhood for me was playful, hairy (hidden)
i scamper among hardwood and carpet impishly,
knowing no better than to run
(without knowing what i’m running from)
my favorite shirt, monochrome
adorned in facial decorations
and these words, italicized:
so many choices, so little time
the concept had me tickled
a world where we wake up each day
& choose who to become
where the hair we wear
can change in the same frequency
& with the same seamlessness
as the tide
it wasn’t untrue, either
tens of sticky “play” staches sat
in a drawer in the baby blue bedroom
in case it ever was time for me to become
in time my father halted my antics
his blue eyes seemed to speak what his
lips could not, but it was an emotion i
had no verbiage for
“change your shirt,
it’s time for bible study &
i don’t want people to get
the wrong idea”
summer
i am a kid again
feeling the folds of your elbows
smelling your scent in everything
from your hands to my mouth:
altoid, cinnamon
it’s summer and there’s
whimsical tunes and tea parties
summer and the woods goes on forever
blue waters merge into games, laughter into
bittersweet embraces
the quilt of time is patched
together with smiles
and sticky fingers
i pick a fairy on a horse to become
she isn’t quite the fit for me
but for now those sparkles sing!
pastel hues, pinks and blues
dance with the motion of my
playful palms
that dirt road leads directly
to my heart
and i’ve got peach tea on my
mind
i watch you watch me
i want to be what you see
i know that i am not
i know you’ll love me regardless
Theodore James
(he/they) is a poet first and foremost. His work focuses on emotional intimacy, through portrayals of both hopefulness and tragedy. Queerness heavily influences the lens in which they view the world. His debut chapbook, gendered lullabies is currently available on Amazon. Find him on Instagram and Bluesky as @writeodore.
Cover Photo by Lauren McConachie on Unsplash
