AI-generated image: Two Black women; one has an afro and is wearing black rimmed glasses, the other has locs and is donning massive gold hoop earrings. They both have pensive expressions on their faces as they hold on to each other in a sinkhole.
away from you
Con Funk Shun plays, and I finally hear what I need to in Michael Cooper’s sultry voice… “That’s the way it goes on Love’s Train,” and you begin to fade from memory.
As soon as you float into another part of my mind, The Gap Band plays, and then I hear, “Keep running,” and here I am… trying to talk myself from chasing after you.
I am slowing down, finding my own beat, and my own words to get far away from you.
death from cold
cold weather moves in without an invite–banging at the doors of the sky, willing to lap dance the day away, as long as it’s paid in full before the next business day.
its pimp hangs out around the corner, strangling the sun and threatening to take the heat from it.
we all layer up for safety. we don’t want to catch our death from cold.
AI-Generated Image: The photo shows People of Color standing defiantly outside, in the open, waiting for something to happen. Perhaps, change?
I AM tired of work; I am tired of building up somebody else’s civilization. The beer company did not hire Blacks or Puerto Ricans, so my father joined the picket line Steadfast and awful, my tall father Hit hard as a hailstorm. He’d leave marks.
You ain’t gonna be able to say a word If I land my fist on you. Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!
The mob arrives with stones and sticks to maim and lame and do me in. It has been a hard trudge, with fainting, bandaging and death. come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.
she say, she don’t know how she’d get along without Beulah show me someone not full of herself and i’ll show you a hungry person let snow soothe you make your healing water clear sweet.
What I want should not be confused with total inactivity. I bit sweet power to the core. How can I say what it was like? Remember what the world is like for white people.
This is my first Cento. I knew the topic I wanted to write about–knew the theme instantly (mental exhaustion from oppressive regimes and how the system is still designed to benefit the majority over minorities). I reflected upon the indomitable Writers of Color to be able to express the point I intended to get across. I researched writers, poems, and pieces of prose before compiling lines to build stanzas that, in my humble opinion, flowed seamlessly. I hope I created that.
Inspirational Works: Tired by Fenton Johson, All Poetry The Sign in my Father’s Hands by Martin Espada, Poetry Foundation Duplex by Jericho Brown, Poetry Foundation The Ballad of the Landlord by Langston Hughes, All Poetry If We Must Die by Claude McKay, Poetry Foundation Loose Woman by Sandra Cisneros, Genius To Black Women by Gwendolyn Brooks, Illinois Poet’s Forum won’t you celebrate with me by Lucille Cliftion, Poetry Foundation Stagerlee wonders by James Baldwin, Poetry Foundation Poem for a Lady Whose Voice I Like by Nikki Giovanni, Poetry Foundation Appalachian Elegy (1-6) by bell hooks, Poetry Foundation Keeping Quiet by Pablo Neruda, Quantum Eve Remembering by Toni Morrison, Poets.org If You Are Over Staying Woke by Morgan Parker, Poetry Foundation
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
the crush just came back from Thailand; my phone is flooded with pictures, videos, and moments she shared with beautiful people who are more concerned with nature, clean eating, and knowing their history.
I ask her, “Do you feel changed now that you’ve gotten out of this country for a while, and breathed in the fresh air of another?”
there’s silence, instead more pictures and videos are shared with me, and that’s all the answer I need.
moguls get away with everything
when you’re a mogul, the time never fits the crime. money and influence can form gangs of blackmail, and people in positions of judicial power will crack.
it’s a game; players learn their place or find out how useless they are.
no one knows the definition of loyalty anymore and oaths are laughable at best.
and they wonder why silence is preferable when the body has been defamed.
people in power hear the stories, but they don’t listen.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
you will most likely never find me in a horde of people looking as though I’m in a place that carries comfort.
If I am, I assure you, I’m forcing my body to be at peace, to try to enjoy my surroundings. I’m never at ease in those situations.
they are few. they are far between. the path leading to them fades away more as the years pile on to my age.
I am not who I used to be, I’m a new person in an old body. I’m both familiar and unfamiliar, and this is what intrigues you.
on our terms
the most difficult thing I experienced with Jernee during her decline were the lucid moments. I feared becoming looped into their trap.
she wasn’t the same, and I knew that, heart & soul, but sometimes my baby would look up at me as if she recognized my face, and I’d be putty in five seconds.
“it’s only going to get worse” became the anthem in my home, followed by, “this sounds like a brain tumor,” and with each regressive instance, I was reassured…
I cut death to the quick, and offered it a seat at the table.
if it was going to take my baby, it’d be on our terms. but was it, though?
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
Spending my last 15 minutes with my baby, Jernee Timid, while she was in the twilight phase of her End-of-Life process. At this point, we were talking about Jernee’s character and how she was VERY MUCH a DIVA, and I am clearly not. We took time to laugh, too. Friday, September 12, 2025. Photo Credit: Karlie B. Cornelius
you didn’t know we needed to do a thorough walkthrough of your apartment to make sure the dog you say is dead is really… dead? it’s in your lease–a clause; once your pet has transitioned, in order to reverse any pet rent fees, we have to verify what needs to be verified.
silly me, here I was thinking the receipt from the vet’s office with the amount it costs for the euthanasia services would be enough. it’s not. you actually want to come to my unit, lay eyes on my private space, and look for a being who is no longer alive.
be my guest.
I’d say inconsiderate. I’d say insensitive. but this feels like garbage–the icky kind that bulges up at the bottom of the bin and sticks to the corners of it when the city comes to dump the contents in their truck. I comply. after all, we must follow the rules.
I make the request to delete my information from the PetSmart app, submit my request to deactivate Chewy, and issue a note to PetScreening that asks you to select the reason the account is no longer necessary. “Jernee Timid has passed away.” “I have re-homed Jernee Timid.” “Jernee Timid has run away.” “This profile for Jernee Timid is a duplicate.” “I am no longer residing at the associated property.”
I select the first option. I am prompted to confirm what I have selected–make sure I’m not a robot. I click submit and watch the words flash across the screen regarding how this company will make my apartment community’s property manager aware of the information I submitted to them.
everyone wants to be sure my baby has zero breaths left…that she really is taking a dirt nap, and have I really lost the best thing that has happened to my heart since learning how to love?
I could not have prepared myself for erasure of this magnitude. Jernee’s not here, but she is. Jernee’s not here, but she is. Jernee’s not here, but everyone believes that she is.
and my heart knows she is not. but my heart has a special place for her where she will always linger… and the boot soles of capitalism may take her away from me on paper, but they’ll never strip her away from the lining of a muscle that beats strongly for her in life and in death.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
A Cornered Gurl 
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