Audio Poem – A Cornered Gurl

keratoconus III

05/21/202305/20/2023trE

free verse (audio) poem

Scleral contacts in and headed to my optometrist appointment for a cornea check & second opinion on Corneal Collagen Cross-linking. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

if you are lucky — blessed — you have
someone monitoring your health
as best as they can.
if you’re falling off in any way,
they’re there to pick you back up
and remind you, “There’s still
living to do.”

I now know the importance of
keeping my eyes shielded for
as long as I can.
wearing scleral contacts for at least
ten hours per day has helped my
left eye, however, my right
eye is progressing.
according to my optometrist, I’m
still in a range she thinks is “gradual”
and nothing to be concerned about
surgically, just yet.

she agrees with me that we
should allow the additional six months
and reassess in November to see
where I stand.
will my sight
continue to betray me or
will it slow its pace in progression
and stave off surgical procedures
for a few years or more?

I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

she also broke down Corneal Collagen Cross-linking
to me in a way that didn’t terrify me or
cause me to fear attending anymore
ophthalmology follow-up appointments.
she smiled gingerly and said, “I hate to say
this, but most surgeons are trained to give
you the worst-case scenario, and then I
have to . . . clean up the mess.”

I listened to her as each step was
explained, reiterated, and filtered to
my understanding, and I breathed a
sigh of relief.
if this procedure is needed by the end
of the year or later, I feel less worried
about the possibility of having it performed.

when one’s vision is steadily running
in the opposite direction of
the sighted, what does one do?
hope. pray. follow all necessary
precautions. pray some more.
purchase all the expensive items
necessary for the care and maintenance
of the $3,500.00 each, priced lenses.

Can’t let these go to waste, right?

and as I continue to lose my sight in
one eye, it is strengthening in the other.
what can this mean?
what does this mean?
is there even any meaning to it?

my optometrist is happy with
my vision as it stands currently.
I could see what I needed to see
and people, places, and things
are still sharper in my
line of sight.
it’s a small thing but a big thing, too.

I only wish you knew how much.

Parts II & I

Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

NaPoWriMo #10

04/10/202304/10/2023trE

beef (an audio poem)

beef: an audio poem by Tremaine L. Loadholt

two different, but similar;
too different, but same
events just on one
side of town versus the other.

they raged through Cali;
past trauma bubbling over the
tops of their lives.
do they know what they’re
carrying?

the burdens of our crosses
can be heavier than our
work schedules, mightier
than our time.

they couldn’t burp an
authentic apology–it isn’t
in them–no act of true
kindness lives in their bones.

but here they are,
connected by trials &
tribulations & last resorts
and borrowed time

that they will
never ever get back.
and they know it.

Let No One Censor You

02/28/2023trE

This poem is striking, and I felt it moving deep within me as I read it. Please visit the author’s site to read it in its entirety, and to like and comment directly there.

Peace and blessings!

Your written contentyour voicecopyblog poststexts, captionsthe way you capture feeling on the pagecontextualize thoughtempower us through emotionbreathe life into the human experienceremind us what it feels like to liveto rememberminister to our memoryand most sacred truthsthe way you poetyour words, spoken or written is, power. A historical document your grandchildrenwill one […]
Let No One Censor You

A Bisexual Woman’s Lament: I Don’t Need Valentine’s Day

02/14/2023trE

An audio lamentation

Another day of love for lovers is here,
and I am unbothered by the frenzy and
unfulfilled purposed people struggling
to find the best gifts for others they
half love Monday through Thursday, and
find themselves wanting to be rid of by
Friday.

I smile. I smirk. I know where it all ends,
and sadly, where it will begin again, and
I say, “I don’t need Valentine’s Day to
express my love for another — to let them
know I truly care. If I love you, you know.
I tell you. I show you.”
And I get stares that seem to skitter
about from the eyes and roll off to
skim through my thoughts.

I said what I said.
And I meant it.

My mother is the only person who
can call me and say, “Happy Valentine’s Day,”
and I don’t flinch or cringe — she has done
it for decades now. Ain’t no stopping her.
The pressure that comes with this day
is abhorrent.
I have seen people take their last
$50.00 to semi-splurge on
things their loved one didn’t need.

And here we are, living during a time
when four gallons of gas will probably
cause you to get evicted.
Do what you want with your money, I know
what I will be doing with mine.

This day reappears yearly, and it’s the same
charade setting itself up on
bended knees to knock every participant
down and out before they can utter
half-hearted “I love yous.”

Commercialism at its finest.

And you’ll succumb. You’ll buy the roses.
You’ll book the restaurant reservation.
You’ll get the diamonds and pearls and
toe the line of bankruptcy to
fulfill an empty heart that only really
needs you — that only really needs . . . love.

I’ll try not to put my foot too far in my mouth,
because I am loving a woman who will
one day have me running out to find
the best thing suited for the whole of her — of who
she is — Valentine’s Day, included among all
others.

If it’ll draw that dimpled smile from her
face for eleven seconds, I’d succumb, too.
But for now, I don’t need Valentine’s Day.
It can’t have what I have and won’t give
me what I want — what I need.

I’ll sit back and watch and wonder
how much longer we’ll dive into
the moneymaking day of love that still
manages to leave people depressed
when the day is done.

We are knee-deep in its throes . . .
bound to sink in its making faster
than we ever could in quicksand.

Originally published at Prism & Pen via Medium.

℗ 2000 Hidden Beach Records, Jill Scott, Slowly Surely

a poem for Victoria

02/10/2023trE

on her birthday

Photo collage of Victoria (one of me sprinkled in, too). Created by Tremaine L. Loadholt. All photos taken by Victoria Georges

a poem for Victoria by Tremaine L. Loadholt

here you are; a warm welcome,
renewed spirit, confident and
secure — a peace I didn’t know
I needed.
my heart wells up with joy
at the thought of your growth —
how amazing you are, and
the similarities sitting in
your heart — so much like your
mother but clearly your
own self.

I stand in awe of you.
I remember when you
were born, how happy
your parents were, and I
lived for the updated photos,
stories, and time spent with
my little cousin who had a
smile that could shame the sun.

so far away, always so far
away — yet near enough to
dwell in my mind — take up
space I had no problem lending.
you are a glorious, strong force
in a world of terror and pain.

you pick up everything
whenever you’re ready,
relocate to places with
half-hearted moons and
split-tongue warriors with
gray eyes.

we all live vicariously through
you — we may not say it but
we think it.
free spirit — unafraid to make
moves when moves need to
be made, and on this, your
day of birth, I want you to know
that I love you to
the full-bodied moon and
back again.

there will be pregnant pauses
for the rest of my day as I
share time with my thoughts
to appreciate your existence.
happy birthday, Victoria.
God gift you years upon
years upon years more.

On Tuesday, February 07, 2023, my little cousin (Chrissy’s daughter) celebrated another year on this Earth, and I wrote this for her. Thank you for reading, and for listening, too. Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.