I am a lover, writer and sculptor of myths and fairy tales. I love love, love that transcends death, the physical body, pain, suffering and all that nonsense. I am old and young, wise and foolish, calm and angry, happy and sad, content and restless. I am a Wild Woman and this is part of my journey. Here is where I put some of my ideas about living, loving, creating and transcending. Follow me if you dare.
Monday, June 22, 2015
I am a Cultural Chimera
This is a poem about being mixed-race in America.
I am a cultural chimera.
A bit monstrous to the plain folks
with their similar parts all in a row.
I have a leg from Spain,
an eye from Italy,
a tongue from India,
a hip from Greece,
a heart that is Native American,
laugh from Africa.
My tail is quite Asian.
My wings have a European flap.
neck is long like an African Giraffe.
I speak like a sphinx.
She was my mentor
before Oedipus’ twisted fate undid her.
I can still see the confusion and fear on his face
before he took her life.
It is the same look one-way folk study me and my
that flash, yet are dull,
wet and yet dry, cultured and yet wild,
and yet foolish in their eyes.
They cannot make head or tail of me.
I am a
I really don’t exist.
Why does she
not fit into our definitions,
with such pretty names like
white and black and red
or European, African and Asian?
Everything else goes
"You really must forgive me. I have tried, when I was smaller, to put
my paw, excuse me, foot into your boxes, but oddly, it would not stay but
leapt out and away quivering like it had padded, I mean, walked into acid. Your
boxes are for you, and thank you so much for trying to share them with me, but
you see, I just don’t fit."