FIVE POEMS BY THEODORE JAMES
hrt
cold kisses on my thigh
seconds pass and i
bin the piece, watching white
disappear down the hole
my breaths are deep and prolonged
an assurance to my body
something soft resounds from my phone
something sharp, in my hand
the liquid pulls as if magnetized
filling the chamber with my salvation
if sterile had a smell, it’s my wiped and readied leg on any given
Monday morning
if nervous had a taste, it’s the saliva i
swallow, counting numbers that don’t exist
i tease the flesh slightly
when i was a little girl i dreamed of dying
as a man, i dream of marriage. children. a house with a vegetable garden.
i suck in air like a reverse balloon
and convince myself
life is worth the pain
the needle hurts at first, then it doesn’t
someone sings r&b to me and my syringe, unknowing
a plaster over the red dot
i heal my own hurts now
(originally published by Epistemic Lit,2024)
ink
he
takes the sharp
and pierces-
splitting skin into color
remolding what was into
what could be
beautiful bloodshed
the lullaby of needles
droning onward...
i am rock (still)
i am a ripe fruit
ready to gush
the passage
i cusp the curls of time in both hands
gently
baited breaths, i kiss what is temporary and make love to forever
hours are knives, dragging across the flesh of mortality
minutes become years in the hellscape i call home and yet
the sun beckons another one
heavy is the second, bearing bloodied fangs
a creature of the crypt, haunting us with intervals
i await my sentence
patiently
and the sun beckons another one
things they never told me
death is the inevitable byproduct of life, so
embrace who and what and while you can
if you hold your tongue too often
it sinks into a pit in your stomach
& pins you deep in the dirt
water your goddamn plants & brush
those teeth, routine is Godliness in the
Sisyphean battle for mental health
pick a color & stick with it, give it
the meaning you need to go on
family is who & what you make it,
sometimes family is a good book & a
lover or two
raise your head when their eyes
glare into you, vulnerability is earned
& yours is sacred
yr body is going to change
expect that with open arms
ugly is subjective
ugliness is defined by oppressive ideals
ugly is not what they tell you
ugly is beautiful
we all must do what we can but
what we can is
often different
be patient with the elderly
aging is a gift
& foster the youth
you determine what those hands will
hold
leisure is allowed, welcomed
even. relaxation is a rare glory of
being human
loving is a weapon, so
watch how you wield it but
don’t you dare
stop swinging
music is the remedy
& maybe something sweet to
drink, don’t underestimate the
little things like the
chalk on the pavement
the sun hitting the waves
happiness is a cup of old coffee
and your resilience: the sweetener
don’t forget you are different & don’t
let that stop you
every tree branches off uniquely yet
in times of heat each offers
shade, so never forget what you offer
learn to pick your battles & stop picking your skin!
space is integral
to healing
(originally featured in ‘gendered lullabies,’
published by Alien Buddha Press)
remnants of the flood
blond dirt on the silver rooks
moonlight catches the water and beams onto it,
projecting glorious secrets unto lovers and those
lovers are us
sandy shoes and warm pockets
hit the vape one time, and let the swirls fly
im in ur arms and ur in mine
dancing headlights in
the distance
we know not distance
or pain, or the hollow husk of misery
utter bliss that is this, i think contentedness is my new favorite
form of joy
somewhere someone stops for the whistle of a tea kettle,
but here we drink the sky!
sipping speckled stars until our bellies
ache
tender hearts and eager hands find each other in perpetuum
i think i could write another poem about love & another & the next one and i think i could type tremendous tales of two or three or maybe even four or more lovers, smoking each other’s essence and getting high off all the intimate and anyway! i think i could type these things until my fingers malfunction, i think i could write a forever or two and find that form of joy again, i think that the closest thing humans have to divinity is to find each other and just be as kind as you can, especially when caring is almost Sisyphean, i think the bravest thing one can do is love after heartbreak, i think softness is next to godliness so i breathe blankets onto the world until i can breathe no longer
(originally featured in ‘gendered lullabies,’ published by Alien Buddha Press)
Theodore James
is a 23 year old trans man and proud poet. Specializing in intimate portrayals of personal experience, his debut chapbook gendered lullabies will be available on Amazon Oct 7th. They can be found on social media @writeodore
Cover photo by Matt Benson on Unsplash
