The cover (front and back) for Scattered Words: Poems for Jernee Timid Loadholt. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
4 sections. 24 poems. 9 original photos (digitally animated by Google Gemini). 40 pages. 1 dog who is no longer with us.
The tentative publishing date is January 12, 2026, four months after Jernee’s passing.
In Scattered Words: Poems for Jernee Timid Loadholt, the author wants you, the reader, to experience Jernee in totality, and understand why she has lost the greatest companion she has ever known.
If you have ever grieved the loss of a pet, many of these poems will not only resonate with you, they will set up holding spaces in your mind, crawl into your heart, and retreat only when they have been commanded to do so.
You will laugh, cry, nod in agreement, and reminisce about your furry family member(s) and how they have become your strength. Grief is not linear, and every creeping moment it decides to invade your heart, there is a poem in this book to greet it.
In Scattered Words…, Tremaine celebrated, lamented, grieved, loved, and released Jernee Timid Loadholt. Every day, she will probably do these things again—not necessarily in that order.
If you have never met a dog who had the uncanny ability to be more memorable than some of the people you know, with this book of poems, you will have your chance.
God gifted me peace in living form, and I will never forget her, not ever.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent 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.
They come dripping with honied songs. You happily lap them up at first; so cloyingly sticky with promise the sting of their claws goes unnoticed. And just like that, there’s nothing again,
Only now, nothing feels less than that. Got you chasing things you never wanted just to feel something one more time, just to get another juicy taste, just like they wanted all along.
Play at being prey enough times, angles and patterns soon seem telegraphed. Funny how when you see them coming those sweet songs croon on empty calories, leaving you, me, and this naked truth.
Unsheathed, this mummer’s mimic still has fangs, so be mindful how you cast them off. Though a well-dressed no is still a no and boundaries trigger venomous bite, angles and distance out-leverage their reach.
Let them bait their lines again and again. Mimic being moved by their siren song as saccharine curdles into sour nothings as you walk away from their invite to thank them for gorging on your wholeness.
(In Response) Tremaine L. Loadholt:
You love being whole, love feeling like you have it all, and every woman you meet must be craving your attention. A welcome yes may not be the yes you yearn for, but this doesn’t matter, you’ll take what you want anyway.
And the sun and moon watch as you devour hearts that haven’t bloomed into their ripe age. they plot on you–one to brace you when it’s hot, the other to push you when it’s cool. You are so intent on breaking every rule, you don’t realize protecting you is their job.
The distance to sanity from where you are is a two-day journey. Wives and husbands, sisters and brothers; every connected union you find along your path–
To read the poem in its entirety, please find it in its published form at Collaborature. Thank you so much, Melissa Lemay, for hosting our work!Thank you, Barry, for continuing to collaborate with me. Our words have danced with each other for years, and I pray they continue to find each other in the future, too.
The image above is from Getty Images. It is a vintage photo of a young boy sitting at a table and looking mischievously at a whole turkey on a platter garnished with lettuce and tomatoes. The boy wears a suit jacket, dress shirt and tie, and his hands are folded and placed on the table. An empty dinner plate, a smaller plate with a dinner roll on it, and a full glass of milk are in front of him.
Bruce Dennis is getting so far up that the girls wail out to her, pleading for her to get back down to safety. The poor cat sits unbothered, still attached to ten red heart-shaped balloons, drifting by a will not of her own. They stomp their feet and cry out with impatience. Kinley Chris shouts downstairs to their grandmother—screaming for her help—begging her with plump tears in her eyes for her to do something.
“Grandma! Bruce Dennis is flyin’ up more and more. We need to get her down! Grandma, please!”
But their grandmother was in the very place she was before all the commotion began. The girls have no idea she is the one who hitched Bruce Dennis to the balloons—swatting the cat away for breaking her favorite vase. She had said so many times before her art room was off limits. She is going to show them better than she can tell them. But before she would wiggle her overgrown self from the vintage loveseat perfectly placed next to the only window in the art room, their young ginger-haired neighbor, Charlie Rhett Baylor, raps at their door.
“Kinley and Wayne!!! I see Brucie up in the sky. What is goin’ on, y’all?!” In between his yelling, there were frantic knocks at the door. Charlie is also thinking of a way to get the fat cat down while he continues to knock and yell. His father, Hank Baylor, is the Deputy Sheriff in town, so Charlie has a few tricks up his sleeve that will surely secure the fat cat soundly.
Wayne Donald shoots down the stairs quicker than an incoming evening tide and swings the door open. She notices Charlie’s Sunday Best attire, then waves for him to enter their home. Kinley Chris strips the bedding off the guest room’s twin mattress and tosses it out the window. She is thinking they can shoot the balloons one by one with her slingshot or BB gun, and get Bruce Dennis to land on the mattress, but they have to be quick. When Charlie meets her in the guest room, she rattles off her plan to him, and he throws his suit jacket on the box spring, kicks off his loafers, and races back downstairs so he can place the mattress in the spot where Bruce Dennis would land.
Kinley Chris loads the BB gun with .177 caliber pellets, flings the gun over her shoulder, and sets up shop right in front of the old window. Like a focused sniper, the eldest sibling tilts her head to find the subject, braces her legs for shifting, and kneels down in an experienced shooter’s position. She yells down to Charlie, who is in a frenzied state, trying to track Bruce Dennis’ landing position.
“Charlie Rhett Baylor, you gotta good eye on Brucie? I ain’t aimin’ to kill my cat when she falls, so you besta be movin’ that mattress in the right direction!”
“Yeah, I’m watchin’! I’m watichin’ ya, Kinley. You just let those bbs rip, and my eyes will be on the fat cat prize.”
Kinley Chris launches the first three pellets with vigor and swift calculation. Two more pellets follow, and Charlie is monitoring every hit and is maneuvering the mattress as if his life depends on it. Kinley Chris launches two more pellets, and Wayne Donald wails in exclamation—deathly afraid of a negative outcome.
Just before Kinley lets the last three pellets fly, Bruce Dennis is falling down at a pace none of them expects, and Charlie has his eyes on her—keenly assessing the situation as every second passes.
“I’m lettin’ these last three rip, Charlie! Make sure that mattress is placed right. Looks like Bruce Dennis is comin’ right at ya!” Each pellet hits its respective target, and the fat cat meows loud enough for the whole block to hear. She lands with a pounding thud on the mattress on her eight-lives-left paws and quickly runs toward the shed behind the house.
“Wayne Donald!” Kinley Chris turns to her sister to give the final instructions. “You go on to that shed and make sure she ain’t got no bruises or nothin’ like that, and take her a fresh bowl of milk and open a can of that good tuna for her, too.”
Charlie waits until he sees Wayne Donald, then hurries up the stairs to grab his suit jacket and loafers. His day of helping the neighbors is over, and now he has a story to tell his highly decorated Deputy Sheriff of a father.
Bruce Dennis won’t even look in the art room’s direction. She will never trust the girls’ grandmother again.
I bought a smart watch/tracker for my workout routines. I walked 2.31 miles, and then right after it, I did a little over 20 minutes on the treadmill. I’ve set a goal of 10,000 steps per day, and I’ve consistently exceeded it by at least 4,000 steps every day since. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
My dish for our company Thanksgiving luncheon: seafood salad. What’s in it? Tuna, jumbo & colossal shrimp, crab meat, boiled eggs, onions, mayo, pasta shells, sweet relish, and various seasonings. Yes, it was a H I T! Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
LEMME GET SOME WANGS. For dinner one night this past weekend, I had Buffalo wings from Brixx Wood Fired Pizza Restaurant, which is literally across the street from me. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
A segment with Yolanda Adams on The Theology of Gospel Music, courtesy of The Faith Community Virtual.Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
I loved the screenshot snippet I took of the video my best friend sent me last week so much that I made the photo my wallpaper on my desktop computer in my bedroom. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
The view from my living room will never get old. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Autumn in my neighborhood. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent 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.
Yesterday, Wednesday, November 26, 2025, I worked from 07:15 AM until 2:00 PM, and my Fall Break began right as I clocked out! I plan on doing my fair share of resting, relaxing, writing, reading, working out, and watching movies. For the holiday, I will cook braised BBQ beef & onions, seafood salad, & baked cabbage with onions & Roma tomatoes. I will also have Hawaiian sweet rolls.
I am inviting peace, quiet, reflection, love, and a stress-free day to my doorstep. If anything does not align with those things, it will have to be removed from my space.
If you intend to celebrate Thanksgiving Day, may you enjoy it to the fullest with minimal to no drama, good food, family, and football (or your favorite movies). If you do not wish to celebrate the holiday, may you have all the peace, love, good food, great TV, and good reading on the itinerary.
Regardless of anything, though, may all of you be safe. Happy Fall Break, everyone!
Peace and blessings.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent 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.
Lately, I’ve been reading books that are seeping into my soul, spreading throughout my body, and settling into my marrow. There is nothing like reading a damn good book that strengthens you throughout the read, and begs you to sit with it for a while longer than you initially planned to. Let Me Write This Gently, My Baby by Lisa Marrie Lovett (Seasoned Dialogue on all platforms) does exactly that.
A spoken word poet, speaker, and influencer (amongst other things), Lisa lures the reader in with her gentle sayings that come wrapped in love, but with Mama’s sternness, and lets you know she means exactly what is being said to you. In every word shared within these pages, there is love, kindness, encouragement, testimonies, and a subtle bite to remind the reader that the author can get feisty if she has to. I appreciated everything this book has to offer, and I am blessed to have had a friendgift it to me a couple of months ago.
Below is the review of it that I shared on Amazon and Goodreads:
I Sat With This Book As If It Were My North Star
And that isn’t to say that it steered me along the right path every single time I opened it up, no I am saying this because the journey was a much-needed one. It came at the right time, and as a gift, too.
Sometimes, we need wisdom to glide to us in other forms, and when it is laced as poetry and literary art, for the written word creative, that is a blessing.
To connect with another human being’s words when you’re hungry for peace is soulspeak on an entirely different level.
Lisa Marie Lovett is in fact, “Seasoned Dialogue”, everything about this book screams teacher, poet, writer, experienced, a work in progress, blessed, and willing to learn. “Knowledge is infinite”, and within these pages, there is plenty of it shared with the reader.
I intend to read this book many more times, especially when life becomes far too heavy to carry or is cloaked in evil that I cannot fight alone.
Let Me Write This Gently, My Baby is a testimony that will continue to confess for many years to come.
If you’re a lover of poetry and looking for a book full of spoken word and poems that will nestle up next to you and spend a few nights in your head, this book is for you. The flow is smooth, succinct, flawless, and seamless, without a single hiccup. I appreciate the literary artistry on every page, and I am sure you will do the same.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent 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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