Category: Men

Edward Parker

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Flash Fiction

Photo by camilo jimenez on Unsplash

Ed tossed the remote control to the far right end of the couch after flipping channels for the twentieth time. He slid back in his reclining massage chair, pressed the button to activate the slow pulse on his lumbar spine, and sank into the peacefulness of the night.

Sadie had been gone since Tuesday, and it was Friday. She decided to visit her big sister, Sweetie. She hadn’t seen her in four years.

The WWE’s intro sounded throughout the entire living room. He blinked his eyes a few times to keep from falling asleep. Although he never missed an episode, he struggled tonight to stay awake.

Working the second shift at the power plant was starting to wear on his middle-aged bones. Years ago, he could pull a double, parade around town until 3 in the morning, and still wake up to get another day going at work.

Those days are long gone now. Everything hurts. Even his fingernails. But money’s got to be made.

He silently berated himself for tossing the remote to the far right of the couch. The chair had gotten comfortable and he didn’t want to get up.

He smacked his weary lips, placed two fingers in his mouth, and whistled for his oldest child to come downstairs.

The young one appeared; doe-eyed and slightly aggravated.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Edward Sloane Parker, Jr., reach on over there on that couch and get your daddy the remote control, will you.”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement — a cool command. Ed, Jr. shuffled past his dad, leaned over hastily, scooped up the remote, and tossed it in his dad’s lap.

“That it?”

“Yeah, son. That’ll do me.”

The night air crept into the cracks of their old Victorian home, Ed settled into the grip of the reclining massage chair, pressed the volume up button on the remote, and closed his eyes.

“I’ll just rest them for a few. I won’t even miss the main event,” he whispered to the thin air.

When Ed woke up, the sun was beaming down on his beady eyes and the kids were racing downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He missed the main event. He missed the whole damn show.

Originally published in Hinged.press via Medium.

Fathers, You Are Loved.

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A free verse poem

Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Unsplash

And we may whisper
it from our pursed lips
on a rainy day while the
TV plays cartoons in
the background; “noise to
distract us from ourselves,”
only to be focused on you.

We haven’t forgotten. 
We assure you. 
We know how your strong
arms can lift us
beyond the stars.

We remember the tightness
of your embrace.
We can pinpoint the moment
you raged toward “21 questions”
when we brought some
new date home.

You are a young girl’s
first love.
You are a young boy’s
first hero.
You are the Boogeyman’s
Hitman for the little
ones who cry and coo
in their dark rooms.

It is imperative that you know
our lips will form to shape
the words, “Thank you” 
and our hearts will push
out three others; “I love you”,
as you sit back in your
favorite chair to soak
up the newness of another day
the world nearly ignores.

But please don’t forget,
we know how important you
are. We aren’t afraid
to show you. 
You are the present
a child waits to open
last.

Happy Father’s Day!

Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

bask

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Pictured Poetry created by Tremaine L. Loadholt

bask

I remember a time when
he thought I had
fire for a spirit
and an ocean for
eyes, and then one day
“out of the blue,”
I was fire crying an ocean
of tears, instead.

I think I changed.
I think he changed.

we could no longer bask
in the presence of who
we were.
all we wanted to do
was run away from
each other.

and that ain’t love.
that will never, ever
be love.