remora

Musical Selection: Cameo|Single Life

An Experiment

she is a budding blossom,
purple sunset on a red evening.
she sways her body to an unknown beat,
our heads bobbing to sounds we do not hear.

I sit back and watch her fearless eyes
oppose every caller who comes to steal her heart.
we are her audience,
she is giving us a show.
we’ve paid in advance and expect
an encore.

her hips circle the air,
sweet lips covered in blue,
cherry birthmark kissing crows feet — 
she’s wearing age confidently,
high-stepping on the moon’s nose,
leaving her mark.

we applaud her efforts,
the goddess falls from her pedestal
only to land near god.
her hands clasped in front of us — 
a plea?
no, she leads the lost to her
lying voice, twists our ankles when we stand,
and bellows beyond the void.

she is an obstacle,
the unclimbable mountain, and
every man’s ‘the one who got away.’
we stare at her, unable to move — 
transfixed
frozen
spellbound.


Originally published in The Junction via Medium.

Excelsior

Photo Credit: Banter Snaps|Unsplash

Musical Selection: Rahsaan Patterson|Sent From Heaven

I am supposed to forget you. That is how this thing was meant to be. But, I feel . . . see . . . hear you every-damn-where and the moment I reach to turn you off, the volume only gets louder. I keep telling myself that I dodged a bullet. Hell, I ain’t ready to die anyway and you would’ve killed me.

I keep telling myself that I dodged a bullet.

But, here I am, digging into the past, trying to pull you out. Shouldn’t I be done with this shit by now? Shouldn’t I? I canceled my therapy appointment yesterday because you followed me all over my home and I really didn’t want you taking over her office too. Afterward, when night crept through my blinds, I told myself, “You cannot run away from the past, Tre. When it sneaks up on you, run into it head-on.”

Shouldn’t I be done with this shit by now? Shouldn’t I?

I’m thankful and grateful to have you here in my life. Stay forever, make me yours and we’ll love through eternity.

The deer run through the wood-chipped areas of my apartment complex, kicking up perfectly shaped triangles — their hooves marking the grass. I watch them gallop in sync and wonder if they have any baggage and if they do, how heavy is it? How often do they carry the extra weight? They look so light and free and that’s how I want to feel, light and free.

But, I won’t be. I know this . . . I also know that my therapist will have extra homework for me and perhaps, I will benefit from her wisdom — her techniques. I should have kept my appointment, but now I am here avoiding every imprint of you, shedding worthless tears.

They look so light and free and that’s how I want to feel, light and free.

I will never be free until I shake you out of me. In my heart, in my soul, you have made your home. There is no eviction notice big enough for me to issue to you. No variation of the color pink that would be bright enough. You have planted yourself in the depths of my being. Surely, someone knows how you can be uprooted without pieces of me leaving too.

I thought you were perfect. I was wrong. My previous manifestations of you are proof that I was foolish. I was blind. I am not without fault.

I’m thankful and grateful to have you here in my life. Stay forever, make me yours and we’ll love through eternity.

I am not without fault. And that’s what hurts the most.

Welcome to living, baby. You ain’t alive unless you’re feeling something.”


Originally published via Medium.

Keeping Secrets (An Experiment)

Musical Selection: George Michael (Wham)|Careless Whisper

An Experiment

I said I would never
love again.
Those days are gone.
But, you make me want to
tell my secrets…

With you, I am weak —
I should be strong.
Is it any wonder?
My love, you know my regrets,
an attestation is unnecessary.

I said I would never
love again.

But…
You make me weak.


Originally published in The Junction via Medium.

Featured Poem of the Week

Dead Roses

A Collaborative Effort with Barry Dawson IV|Musical Selection: Little Brother Featuring Joe Scudda/Lovin’ It

boxing
Ryan Tang|Unsplash

it is easy to gather roses
for the dead,

words for listeners
 —
you hide in the shadows, content
on stealing what does not belong
to you.

I have eyes in the back of my head,
protecting what feeds me.

licensing age-old lyrics,
no duplication, B.

if you’re stepping up,
ready for the game,
bring your best uppercut.
I gotta jab and a crazy left hook
gearing up for top lips
and pretty noses.

a cruel business, the world of writing.
your heart is on display —
the hungry come in droves,
salivating for something
fattening.

give’em slim fast,
Ensure, or Pedialyte, but
never ever give them
steak and potatoes.

trying to eat the whole meal
in one bite
instead of the portions
we gave you
.

headhunting for
a one-shot KO

will never save you

from your ribcage-rattling,
shook from combos
of famine and body-blows
;

still, you try to steal my soul
like your name was Jim Crow.

not one to hide, you open wide
to gulp down the fatty talent,
but leave the conscience
on the platter,

and then get mad at me
when diabetes takes your sight

as if your mad-hatter,
reckless appropriation
had vision to begin with.

I scatter dead roses
at the headstone where we met.

your fat festers, decomposes,
existing as undead,

but I ain’t dead yet


©2019, Barry Dawson IV and Tremaine L. Loadholt. All Rights Reserved


Originally published on Medium via  A Cornered Gurl:

*Barry and I have been collaborating for about a decade. If I think it, he can bring it to life. If he starts something, I can usually finish it. We have meshed well for such a long time that I was beyond myself with glee to finally see him get active on Medium. Every time we work together, it is fun to see where we are in our work at that moment. He is a great Writer and a dope fiend. 

This Is What I Have

Really, this is me most days after work and especially on the weekends. I’m pretty boring, but I’m me.

I cannot offer you fancy things, I am quite frugal and I budget accordingly, however, I do make it a point to buy quality items on sale, that will last long. I am all for quality over quantity.  I am soft-spoken, but outspoken. I am an introvert with extroverted tendencies. I love to read, write listen to music, and contemplate the beauty that is life with its sometimes ugly demeanor. I have a voice. I try to use it when speaking about issues dear to me and my community. I love LOVE, the gift of it, the ability to accept it and share it. 

I am not a difficult person but I can do difficult things well. I am a problem-solver, I love finding solutions. I majored in Psychology and I have a minor in Writing. My heart is in my mind and my mind is in my soul. I am all mixed up, but I am perfectly blended. I am a lover of women and of men, but can see myself settling down with a woman (marriage) before I would with a man. Being bisexual has its perks, however, downfalls hover as well. I don’t need anyone or anything that isn’t bringing me happiness. My days of allowing piranhas to attack and rid me of my skin are over. 

THIS IS A NEW DAY!

I don’t expect anything from you that you aren’t willing to give, so if you do not show me that you care, please do not be surprised when I bounce. I am not sticking around for people who lack the ability to become one with the term “reciprocity.” I respect my heart. You should too. I love order. I do not mind a little chaos, but I reserve the right to put my hand up when too much of it enters my realm. That is a surefire way to throw me off balance. I am an excellent cook, have been told that I am an incredible lover, and I treat every single day as an opportunity to learn, grow, and become a better person. 

This, of me, is what I have. If you need more, I may not be the one for you. And just like a new day dawning right after the old, that is okay. 

I will know when my person arrives, if my person arrives. He or she will have what I want and need and I will not have to go searching for pieces to add to him or her. He or she will already be whole. 

He or she will be perfect for me.