Theadora

Hi, Sara,

There are different stages of my teenage poetry. The first stage, which included a few I sent last batch from 2001, could be summed up as the "I don't know who I am and no one understands me!" poems. From there, I morphed into "no one understands me because I am a radical hippie feminist lesbian and I deserve to do my Goddess rituals indoors. My oppressive Catholic parents are obviously crunching my freedom." From there, my person poetry turns in the nature of questioning the universe, as well as my own gender (I haven't gotten there yet, though, in these e-mails -- right now we're just on the first two stages.") I hope something in all this is useful for the site.

take care, theodora


yearning: poem after a bath



she cries on the bus today

lemon on her tongue

and the absence of your words in her pocket



"normally, I hate choral music. But the men up there were speaking to us, singing to us, not beating us up."

-Kathy, after seeing the Twin Cities Gay Men's Chorus



she can crank out lines

that mean nothing

but she wants you to find

something in the pieces

that define her



her soul on a silver platter

move in take care don't touch come close

careful, she's hurting/burning

don't hold her too tight

don

t let her go



"…those images of Black men touching eachother gently will stay with me forever."

-Kathy

CATEGORY -- "White Middle Class Feminist Hippie Oppression," or "More than Like" --2004

By: Theadora