Tag: Women

Creative Things

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A free verse audio poem

My laptop, the book I’m currently reading (Watering Words by Bridgette Kay), and the remotes to my living room TV. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Creative Things by Tremaine L. Loadholt

It’s hard to explain, I create when
I need to–when the weight of life
sneaks up on me and wrecks my brain.
There’s nothing like moving words
from one section of your heart to another…
nothing like massaging your scalp to
push out stories that have been trapped
inside for weeks; a literary birthing of art.

Background noise, not a deterrent…
I block whatever doesn’t fill me.
I ignore the unimportant.

A writer’s words will see the light
even if darkness has a grip on
their sleeve–they’ll find a way.

My neighbor is taken with me — smitten.
It’s cute.
I’m sure it could have been even cuter
if I hadn’t warped her brain by revealing
my age. I know what it feels like to
crush on someone out of your league…
out of your rank.
20 years my junior, I’ll pass. I can’t
see myself tuning into someone I
could have given birth to.

I never thought I’d see the day
when I’d say, “I am sure I’m way
older than you. How old do you think
I am? My guess, you’re in your 20s,
right?” And right, I was. The look
of shock that swept across her face
was madness to my spirit.

Should I grow more gray hair?
Am I aging backward?

The creator in me wants to poem
the night away, but the thinker
in me allows the words to marinate–to gel.
I have to find a way to build blocks
with the stories I wish to tell… to
wrap them around the stairway to
heaven.

I think there’s a race passing me by,
watching me side-step and
break my ankles just to be
rid of people who are distractions.
I want more creative things, like
the stickers on my laptop, the titillating
words of a fellow author, and the
sacred sunset that’s never on time.

More creative things…
I crave them, and until I am fed,
hunger will ravage me.

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent 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.

back from Thailand & moguls get away with everything

trE

Two poems shared on Substack notes

back from Thailand

the crush just came
back from Thailand;
my phone is flooded
with pictures, videos,
and moments she shared with
beautiful people who
are more concerned
with nature, clean
eating, and knowing
their history.

I ask her, “Do you
feel changed now
that you’ve gotten
out of this country
for a while, and
breathed in the fresh
air of another?”

there’s silence, instead more
pictures and videos
are shared with me,
and that’s all the
answer I need.

moguls get away with everything

when you’re a mogul, the time
never fits the crime.
money and influence
can form gangs of
blackmail, and people in positions
of judicial power will crack.

it’s a game; players
learn their place or
find out how useless they are.

no one knows the
definition of loyalty
anymore and oaths
are laughable at best.

and they wonder why
silence is preferable
when the body has been defamed.

people in power
hear the stories, but
they don’t listen.

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent 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.

catastrophic love & have we come far enough?

trE

Two poems shared on Substack notes

catastrophic love

his blithesome
demeanor captured
me.

I lost all of my
selves swimming
in the depths of his
eyes.

I was disruption;
a distraction…
we bombed before
we could elevate.

catastrophic love.

have we come far enough?

although I am the
eldest child, if this
were the 1500s or
I was of royal blood,
my arrival to first
would mean
nothing because the
next born has the
package; male
primogeniture cut me
to the quick.

imagine being the
first, most
dependable, always
responsible, and a
doer without being
prompted, yet your
earned position in
life depends on
what’s between your
legs.

that’s not a life I
would have enjoyed
living, but when I
assess modern
times and the fight
women constantly
battle, the system
is still rigged to
embrace the least
educated, the most
aggressive, and the
overly-praised, so…

how far have we
come, really?

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

But Aren’t We All Spinning Now?

trE
AI-Generated Image. Created with Google Gemini. A White man with short, messy hair, standing in the middle of nowhere, holding up a crumpled letter. He is dressed in faded jeans with a matching jacket. He is wearing glasses and has a mustache running into a beard. Above him, the sky is dark & gloomy.

I caught the last forty-five minutes
of Spinning Man, and wondered
how I had never seen such a
trainwreck of a movie before. 

I won’t bore you with the details:
it is enough to make one’s head 
roll. Men have been coercing
women into the bowels of 
dysfunction for eons.

This shouldn’t be any different. 
It wasn’t. I think I’d just had my
fill of creepiness and absurdities
for half a year. 

Isn’t it something, though? 
To remember what never happened
and not remember what has? 
To spin while standing in place? 
Aren’t we all spinning now? 

The carousel of life is packed
with people losing their minds
under the guise of “survival of
the fittest,” and soon, we’ll all
be damned.

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

Opening Lyrics To Songs That I Love

trE

#7: H.E.R., Process

I’m just tryin’ to process what just happened/
I’m just tryin’ to express what I’m feeling/
When the pressure gets too intense, burn some incense
Stop and take a deep breath… release it/

©2021 H.E.R., Process. YouTube

This will probably be my favorite segment on my blog in a very long time! Welcome to Opening Lyrics to Songs That I Love!

H.E.R.’s song “Process” appears on her album “Back of My Mind” (Apple Music Edition), released in 2021. The lyrics seem to be about navigating a challenging situation or relationship, feeling like someone is “slowing up the progress” and causing a lot of frustration and sleepless nights.

The speaker is going through an emotional “process” of dealing with this, feeling pushed to their limits, and on the verge of “popping” or “blowing up.”

Lines like “Pushin’ all my buttons/Teardrop, hurting/Say I’m off the deep end/Yeah, right, you’re reachin’ reveal the raw vulnerability and emotional turmoil. 

Essentially, “Process” seems to be a raw and honest expression of dealing with the difficulties and emotional strain that come with a challenging personal situation.

By this point, I guess you have made the assessment that I have a thing for love songs: love lost, love gained, seeking love, and learning how to love. Most of my favorite songs center around love and all things encapsulating love. H.E.R. does an incredible job with “Process” as she pens what it feels to move forward while in the throes of breaking down.

It is oftentimes hard to move on from such a loss. Grief, reminiscence, and the constant wondering of “What did I do?” and “What could I have done to make things better?” can eat us alive.

This song will forever be a favorite of mine. The opening lyrics pull you in to hear the deeper story–to sit down at her feet and vibe with her–to feel her pain. I am here for this kind of carrying on day in and day out.

For the next three Sundays, I’ll share with you my favorite opening lyrics to songs I truly love. Maybe you’ll enjoy it. Maybe you won’t. Perhaps you’ll share favorite opening lyrics to songs you love as well. Perhaps you won’t. Either way, we’re going to have a good damn time.

See you next week!

marriage, no, thank you & his lack of charm drew me in

trE

Two poems posted on Substack notes

AI-Generated Image. A Black married couple who just got married. They are both smiling into the camera. A glimpse of sunlight shines in the background, highlighting their faces.

marriage, no, thank you.

I used to want
marriage–when I
dilly-dallied in my
20s and early 30s…

now, I’ve no yen to
lasso such a thing
close to me that
seems to depress
my loved ones.

Of all the married
couples I’ve ever
known, 30% of them
are happy. I don’t
care who you are,
that’s a frightening
statistic.

I envision myself
whole, free, loved,
and understood, and
I don’t have faith in
anyone else to make
me that way.

The journey must
begin and end with
me.

AI-Generated Image: A Biracial man standing with a look of confidence on his face, as he leans against a red truck.

his lack of charm drew me in

I wasn’t lying when
I said, “he isn’t
debonair.” he isn’t.
he wasn’t. but there
was something of
an allure about him–
how his lack of
charm convinced me
to reveal my caged
self.

all the baggage. all
the misplaced anger.
all the need for
space.

he was a breeze that
passed through at
the perfect time and
collected me during
my most heated
moments.

we relied on passion
to sustain us, and
that was our downfall.

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.