Tag: Reblog

Misery

trE

don’t spread your wings stay a while don’t fly away i love your smile i’ll writhe and scream if you take that flight if you leave, i won’t write gone you go, but it won’t be long soon i’ll hear your comeback song no matter how far you go, you’ll feel my wrath you plus […]

Misery

I’m so glad she’s back. Do yourself a solid and visit Kelley’s blog. This piece is one I believe many people can relate or did relate to at some point. Misery will creep in and overstay and overstep in any way she can, don’t let her rule your life.

Holding on, or: Letting go

Holding on, or: Letting go

trE

David, over at The Skeptic’s Kaddish (of a son) was so kind to host me as a feature for his Poetry Partners segment, and I love the poem he shared to accompany my words. It is an honor to share the same page with this awesome human being. I hope you enjoy the poem (s), lovely people.

Thank you again, David! What a great way to build community.

ben Alexander's avatarThe Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱

Poetry Partners #33

A poem by trE of ‘A Cornered Gurl’

the depth of love carries a torch of light
it ushers in the kindness we need
and lures fighters whose intentions are bright
the heart a source not of stinginess or greed

we long for understanding in this world
our chances of finding it are slim
but we hold on to faith unfurled
peace will fill our hearts to the brim

A sevenling (I have recollections) by ben Alexander of ‘The Skeptic’s Kaddish’

I have recollections of lightheartedness, a
weightless innocence, but more readily remember
crushing heaviness. Now, my heart's mostly numb.

It has gained understanding, as it has come to
reject faith. Depth of love has been the primary
constant... So, I direct others down a different path.

'Yes,' I smile, 'Just believe in yourself.'

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Throwbacks

trE

Thanks to The Drabble for accepting another drabble of mine. I do love microfiction and brevity in writing, and I am honored to see another one of my creations hosted here.

The Drabble's avatar

By Tremaine L. Loadholt (Tre)

I perused the gently used and previously owned items of every aisle. Old toys re-gifted to a store ready to house their contents — books decades-old, thumbed by the ancestors of the world. One could get lost in a sea of G.I. Joe figurines and Luke Skywalker life-sized dolls … not dolls. My heart jumped ten feet ahead of me when I spotted vinyl stacked so high, it resembled a tower. Could I scale it? Would I scale it?

Imagining the songbirds of the past and their accompanying suitors in sound sent shivers up my spine. I would have them — all of them. But first, I must purchase a record player.

I search for one in this — the land of throwbacks. I find it.

––––––––––
“I am more than breath & bones. I am nectar in waiting.” – the writer

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12 Plays of Christmas: When The Snow Fell

12 Plays of Christmas: When The Snow Fell

trE

I don’t recall how I happened upon his blog recently, but I’m so glad I did. If you’re looking for a wondrous storyteller who leaves you wanting more after each story, you NEED to be reading Rhyan, aka MADD FICTIONAL. Seriously.

Madd_Fictional's avatarMADD FICTIONAL

When the snow fell, a man and woman became lost and wandered into the village where I was born. They were aware of just how fragile the planet was with too many people packed too close together. Human beings were hurting Earth and this village was one of those tiny and oh so very poor places in the world unknown to cartographers that was struggling with overpopulation.

The couple had been on an excursion to find their souls and instead found a half-frozen little orphan girl whom no one could afford to take in, and that day I found a family because even though the man and woman hadn’t planned on having children themselves, they believed in their hearts that it was the right thing to do.

They’d both been bitten by the wanderlust bug at early ages, so when I became old enough to truly appreciate presents, my adoptive…

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Blinded by Her Definition of Me by Tremaine L. Loadholt

trE

Special thanks to Gabriela, the lovely editor at MasticadoresUSA, for publishing my latest poem. Please do check it out when you have time. Peace and blessings.

Gabriela Marie Milton's avatarMasticadoresUsa // Editor: Barbara Leonhard //

Photo by Natalia Almeida via ReShot

Blinded by Her Definition of Me
by Tremaine L. Loadholt

author’s sites:
https://acorneredgurl.com
https://trEisthename.medium.com

I’ve died two deaths;
one in her eyes, and one
in her daughter’s eyes.
I’m not who she expected.
her image of me was
a porcelain doll damaged
and cracked, but willing
to be glued by love.

all confidence is lost
upon endless time.

the nimble
glory of lingering love
wanders amongst our
lying tongues. I deny
what we have, I denounce
what she wants.
blinded by her definition
of me, I retreat.

I am not the savior
she needs–my powers
are limited.
she suddenly loses hope.

my ears have been
home to her magnetic cries;
I house secrets–keep
them safe. I won’t
allow anyone to fetch
them without her permission.
she knows my word
is my bond.

I am in the background,
a shadowy image of
her faithful dreams.

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