I had to find something “clean” to share with everyone because most of his standup is R A U N C H Y and full of cuss words, but I am here for this. Think Dave Chappelle and Richard Pryor had a love-child. It would be Ali Siddiq. The backstory for him is to be respected. He has been through so much, and I am happy to see him take his pain, form it into a method of therapy he can share with others, and become successful.
If you want to see some more of his hilarious delivery, go here.
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 discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
I admire writers who can turn words into endless quotable lists. Poetry is meant to be consumed at any given time, and every offering of jagged remnants of you is digestible at all hours of every day.
Barry Dawson Jr. IV, (BJ Dawson) is one such writer. He and I have collaborated on many pieces of poetry, meshing our words and methods together for a tad over twenty years.
I get him. He gets me. Our efforts have not been in vain, and if life favors us, we can expect more collaborative pieces in the future.
For now, please enjoy the review I have done for his second book of poetry, which is currently listed on Lulu and awaiting global distribution by other book retailers.
As a long-time collaborator and lover of wordplay, BJ Dawson did not disappoint with his second offering of poetry, “jagged remnants of you: This Chapbook Was Supposed To Be A Love Note.”
I knew when I cracked open this gem, I would find elements of Frost, Hughes, Plath, Shakespeare, and Baldwin. I also knew that I would feel the pulse of Run DMC, The Roots, Yasiin Bey, and KRS-One.
BJ has managed to lend the subject of love to us as its most undressed and wanted self. There is beauty in the ugliness of the word, whether it be stoic or in action.
Quotables are on nearly every page, and as a writer and reader of poetry, I could not contain my excitement while highlighting phrases and making notes in the margins.
This is an exceptional work of art; a masterpiece on love; the lack of it, attaining & loss of it, and the hope for it to one day show its face again wherever we may seek it, and I applaud BJ’s knowledge of love and how best to write about it.
Not only did he gift us poetry in various forms about a thing many of us have yet to grasp perfectly, but he ended the book on a brilliant note: “I am fresh out of spells and right now, I sure do miss you with a vicious numbness that just won’t let go.” Now if this isn’t a “flawless victory,” in the land of literary victors, I don’t know what is.”
It is one thing to read a person’s work, critique it, and bask in it because you know they are going to put their all into it and so much more, just as you would. It is entirely another when you read their work and get lost in it, and all you want to do is share it with others because it’s just that good.
BJ, my friend, take a damn bow. You truly deserve it.
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 discussrecent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.
Fandango’d the ticket for Sinners for this morning at the theater up the block. a friend of mine has been waiting for me to see it so we can discuss it.
she’s anxious to know my thoughts, but I haven’t movie’d in a while; a little over two years, to be exact. theaters make me feel out of place… the awkward coughs, people who talk when the movie begins, cell phones ringing when they should be on silent.
my nerves usually become so worked up, I find it hard to focus on the movie. therefore, if I go, I show up early in the morning, a Sunday, preferably, when most people are God’ng themselves to death.
and that’s what I’ll do today. when I have had my fill of a movie that hasThe Green Mile of hype, I’ll come home to get a little more God, too.
AI Generated Image: A Black woman looking ahead with a frustrated look while pondering a few photos she is holding. She is wearing gold hooped earrings, her hair is braided and pulled back into a bun, and there is a blurred background of what appears to be a home’s living room.
Memory hadn’t considered how life would be with Rodney. They were high school sweethearts. She thought going with the flow would be essential: stick with him, he’s a good guy, loves her, cares about her, and would do anything to appease her. But now that they’re both older, he is well . . . boring. She reminisces while sifting through wedding photos, shaking her head at their decision’s haste and considering the welcoming mat of divorce. Where would this lead them, though? Divorce is final and Rodney is a huge chunk of her life. He isn’t some man she decided to shack up with – they’ve invested time, love, effort, and work into each other. Rodney is . . . bigger than regret.
temporarily filled with regret as peace moves calmly into view
Why are we here with this topic? Well because, I am sick and tired of seeing young women well past the baby stage with baby hairs casually laid across their forehead and edges in almost every hairstyle dreamt up by current and trending stylists who want to keep this God-forsaken look alive when it should be dead, eulogized, buried, and left ALONE!
I said to my best friend and cousin in a text message the other day: “I really, really hate those stinking fake baby hairs these young women have in their hairstyles. I cringe every time I see it. *Sighs*” My cousin, ever the optimistic, responded, “It’s a fad. This too, shall pass.” It’s a fad that doesn’t need to be a fad that makes absolutely no sense.
Back in the day when this style was IN, circa the 70s, 80s, and 90s, little girls and young women actually had baby hair or slick hair with which to lay their edges and forehead. These young women are creating curly Qs and baby hairs where they just aren’t supposed to be and doing so in such a way that requires calculation and geometrical tactics, and I just have to shake my head. Exhibit A: feast your eyes on this YouTube short of someone teaching her audience how to apply baby hair to a hairstyle:
I should have prefaced this by saying if this is your thing . . . do you, boo. Please, do you. There are a ton of other things I could be soapboxing about, but this here is the hill I chose today, so here is where I stand. I love people expressing themselves in every way they choose, but what I do not like are folks grabbing hold of something they think is new and running that thing into the ground without being keenly aware of why that thing existed in the first place.
The crush’s daughter loves this baby hair trend. I told the crush how I felt about it and she is in agreement. Her response was, “You know these kids gotta do what they see others do. Makes no sense to me, but that’s how it is now.” And yes, that is HOW it is now. There is no originality, no uniqueness, no want to build and create something that may not have happened before or to at least put such a spin on that thing that folks believe it has never occurred before.
I am going to segue briefly to the fact that I encountered a clerk at The UPS Store a few days ago while mailing a package who could not read cursive. I spelled my name, my mother’s name, the addresses, etc. And she still did not type the info correctly into the system. I finally had to pull out my driver’s license, hand it to her, and say, “Please just look at my license and get my information. I’ll repeat the recipient’s info momentarily.” I was so frustrated with this child that I had to take several deep breaths when exiting the store. This is what happens when cursive and penmanship are removed from schools.
The younger generation has a foreign language before them when one writes in cursive. It’s perplexing to me, and I will never understand it!
Back to the baby hair issue. My godsister had a style with baby hairs when I went home to Savannah, GA to visit this past April, and it took everything in me not to word-vomit all over our brunch every time I looked at her. She’s in her 30s. WHY, boo?! WHY? LOL. She asked me a few times, “You okay,” and mildly, each time, I’d say, “Yeah, I am good.” Because my food was too good to allow the likes of someone else’s hair to ruin it and the mood was far too great for me to actually dampen it with something over which I have no control. I wasn’t going to rain on everyone’s parade. I know when to reel it in and act accordingly. But boy was it hard!
It is becoming evident that my generation is old and bold and the younger generations behind us are young and shunned. We can survive with little to nothing, display ingenuity when it most requires it, have lived through getting home before the streetlights came on, know what VHS and cassette tapes are, and can probably quote 75% of the movie The Color Purple (1985) without hesitating or flinching.
If you are a habitual baby hair applier, I wish you peace. I hope you find the hairstyle that fits perfectly with your face and head, and that you do not continue to beat a dead horse that should have never been resurrected. And if you intend to carry this trend deep into 2025, at least, use gels and spritzes that won’t push your hairline back five years from now. Think of your forehead, children . . . think of your edges. What have they ever done to you to deserve this?
*No baby hair was harmed, maimed, or brutally criticized outside of this post. Don’t come for me, please.*
HAPPY NEW YEAR, beautiful people! If you can’t laugh, you can’t live. Peace and blessings. And may the new year be most kind to all of you.
A Cornered Gurl 
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