Two Things Thursday #19

1. A Poem for Eustace R. Conway, IV created with Canva by Tremaine L. Loadholt

trapped trauma for the mountain man

a poem for Eustace R. Conway, IV

boy blue’d and black-hearted
made by a stubborn man
found himself peacekeeper
of the wild.

so sick of torture and
pinged for disobedience, he
trekked the world outside
his father’s home and made
love to the Carolina forests.

with nature as his mistress,
there was no place too
remote for this young man
trapped in his traumatic past
struggling to build a present.

he had loves who loved him
but he didn’t understand the
rules of falling in love, and
suffered heartbreaking consequences,
instead.

when fame found him
and plastered his noble features
on nationwide television, he
remained humble.
journalists, writers, and nosy
women wanted a piece of
Boone-infused pie.

his father’s namesake and his
mother’s favorite, he managed
to live up to his expectations
more than anyone else’s.

and even I, in my soon-to-be
mid-40s, can appreciate the
pain of childhood trauma when
it shapes and molds a
man into one who is
probably five times better
than his father.

or, that’s what I’d love
to believe to be true.

2. Lenny Kravitz. Photo courtesy of Essence.

1. I am enjoying the book I’m currently reading so much and the subject/character of interest, Eustace R. Conway, IV, that I was moved to write a poem about him.

My reading of the book led me to a few Google searches about him, and he’s really an incredible human being! I had no idea he was one of the most influential and liked characters of the no-longer-running show, Mountain Men on The History Channel.

Apparently, he’s uber sexy and intriguing to a lot of his fans and the envy of many men longing to learn more about mountain living and gaining sustainability in remote areas among nature.


2. Leonard Albert Kravitz, lovingly known as Lenny Kravitz, is a singer, songwriter, actor, father, and all-around beautiful human being.

He has had many musical hits and a signature, distinctive sound.

When you hear Lenny Kravitz, you know it’s him.

Here’s a YouTube video of my all-time favorite song by him: “It Ain’t Over ‘Til It’s Over”. Enjoy!

It Ain’t Over ‘Til It’s Over

We Were Like That Lenny Kravitz Song Until We Were Finally Over

Rhythmic Prose

Photo by Jakayla Toney via Unsplash

Sometimes, I miss it. Sometimes, I don’t. You know . . . Us. It doesn’t hit me as hard as it used to when I was crawling through my twenties or attempting to climb my way through my thirties. But on those dreary, cold days where the wind is blowing harder than the predicted chill, I find myself lost in thoughts of you . . . of Us. And I do drift to a place where it’s not so easy to leave — the comfort of it can be damaging.

And who would blame me at this point? Good memories are hard to come by these days and I have enough stored up so I can pull from them at will. Isn’t that a blessing? Isn’t that something for which to be thankful? You would say so. I know this. You saw God in everything including the devil that wrapped himself up in us. You would call us golden if someone gave you the floor long enough to gloat.

I find myself lost in thoughts of you . . . of Us.

I didn’t mean to stray so far away but I was hungry — in search of other ways of getting fed and the easiest route was the one that led to strings being plucked by long, slender fingers and a voice like crème brûlée— sweet & smooth. I stuck to those things. Tangible and present. Different from what I had begun to see in you.

I could never deny the fire burning in us. We stoked it for years, poking at it with thick sticks, setting apart the embers. We had learned how to pull back just in time to save ourselves from becoming charred — scarred for life or disposable.

You saw God in everything including the devil that wrapped himself up in us.

We were music. Classical? Rhythm & Blues? Funk? Maybe we were jazz. The ease of each tune dancing across a room or a verse of scats uttered quickly by chocolate-covered lips. We lasted for hours on play. The B-side was the best side. The B-side was my best side.

Back and forth. Over and over. We had our best days and our worst days and some would say we were like that one Lenny Kravitz song until we were finally over. No more violins or bass riffs. No more snare taps or saxophone rips. No crooning or gyrating at the mic . . . We were — until we weren’t. We grew until we couldn’t.

I was hungry — in search of other ways of getting fed.

And it took so long to get to that place. What were we waiting for?

YouTube

Originally published on Medium.