the connection

a free verse poem

Remington “Remy” Cornelius snuggled up next to Jernee’s pillow in what is now… his favorite chair. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

hawk’s eyes on my
back
Remy stares at my
moving body
snuggled next to
Jernee

has he connected with
the spirit of my dead
dog
does he know…

she must be speaking
words of wisdom to
her younger long-lost
cousin

“keep an eye on her,
will you?
she gets afraid
sometimes—doesn’t
want anyone to
know.”

he’s following instructions
doesn’t shield his stare
watches peacefully
from her hold


Originally published via Substack Notes.

significance (*Ode To a Sofa)

a free verse poem about my new sofa/couch

The Center”Peace”. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

unboxing boneless comfort
shares significance
with an unnamed
peace that has
settled within me.

what do I call it?
how do I explain the
change that is
growing inside my heart?
it feels like honeyed joy and
chocolate contentment.

I can taste the newness of self
as the pain fades.

am I finally different
in the way I have
dreamed to be?
or is it perimenopause
playing tricks on me?

whatever this is, I’ll
drown my woes and
bury my fears here.

I am different when
these cushions
palm my back.


Originally published on Substack Notes: *I purchased a boneless sectional sofa recently, and the comfort that comes with this piece of furniture is on a whole new level of “Yes, Gawd!” It’s still the simple things for me.

*The subtitle was suggested by LeggyPeggy.

“Arrow Out” Is Saving Me From Boredom

How a mobile game keeps me alive and wired enough to survive the monotony of most days.

Created with Canva

I’m not a gamer, or am I?

I have a thing for patterns, dangling participles, music that massages my brain, Women of Color with gaps between their two front teeth, and dimples in their cheeks (both sets). And, I make no apologies for any of it. So… it is a rare thing to find me a victim of what most of the younger generations fear—boredom.

Usually, I am equipped to handle it with fictional characters that argue in my head, threatening me for an escape—I provide it for them. Other times, I am escaping through the words of another—a favorite author, lyricist, comedian/enne, or one of my young neighbors/friends.

Suffice it to say, of late, I have been battling boredom, and I think it has managed to gain quite the hold on me. However, upon finding the mobile game Arrow Out (I am not advertising this game; I am simply sharing what a momentary cure for me is), I am soothing what appears to be monotony burnout.

Work is ritualistic. I clock in, put out fires, assist others, make our patients laugh, eat lunch, confirm nearly 100 appointments for the next day, then clock out. What has been satisfying for over two decades for me is slowly losing its spark. I count the hours like I honor every breath I take. When 4:30 PM greets me, I race for the door—eager to see the inside of my home again.


Patterns are my kink—reel me in, wind me up, and push me down. I live for the challenge.

What I have found by playing this game (along with a few others, Solitaire Revelry and Vita Mahjong are runner-ups) is how active my brain is, but when I am focused on any of the above-mentioned, I am calmer. I am at ease. I do not feel pressure on my chest or ringing in my ears. I am tasked with challenges, and my focus is altered to meet or exceed them. Plainly put, I am soothing what my brain has been fighting—absolute boredom, and initially, I did not recognize it.

When I find it hard to roll over from the comfort of one position in my bed to ready myself for an exit away from it, I remind myself that on my lunch break, I can go for a walk or play a couple rounds of one of these mobile games. Walking while listening to music is a life-saver, hands down. Now that I have added stimulating the mind with mobile games, I am sure to defeat boredom.

I don’t want to find myself attached to it—clinging to something that has no intention of saving me from myself. I’ve also noticed that once I’ve cleared a round or several tasks/challenges within the games, I feel more creative. I want to write. I want to read. I want to climb out of the pits I’ve been wading in for months.

And for these facts alone, I am appreciative. What I worry about with these new methods of ridding myself of boredom is… addiction. Am I strong enough to maintain a normal balance with them so as not to let them take over?

We’ll see, won’t we?


Don’t threaten me with a good mobile game time.

I am bound to accept that threat and raise you a higher one—what strength looks like when it’s balanced and groomed to handle battles upon battles and everlasting wars. This world is a dumpster fire laid atop burning coals in the middle of a regularly erupting volcano.

Finding peace within it has been hard, so I’ll take every outlet that I can get. Managing stress, maintaining focus, ridding myself of unattractive habits, and staying afloat when drowning seems all too easy to do is the playground where I currently reside—it is the lifeline.

If you’re searching for me, I’ve probably got my head in a book, a notebook, or bent over my mobile phone.

I am only a shout away.


Musical Selection:

Originally published in Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun on Substack.

dreaded routine

making moves
toward passion and
fulfillment for work…
it’s fearful and
challenging, but I
know my heart will
be healthier and
happier away from
the robotic
everydayness my life
has become.

to give my gifts to
willing users for
growth inspires me
to seek literary
comfort among
young minds again.

it’s my home away
from home and
miles away from the
dreaded routine of
grinding to line the
hefty pockets of
groany men who
don’t even know my
name.


Originally published on Substack Notes. Scattered Words: Hardcover $26.00 USD|Scattered Words: eBook $11.00 USD|Scattered Words: Amazon

tracks

the photo came first; the memory came later

Two Boys on Railroad Track Outside Mobile, Alabama, by Gordon Parks, Free for Use, National Gallery of Art

when I was still learning
myself, I knew a boy
who lost his right leg
on the railroad tracks closest
to our duplex on the east side
of Savannah, GA.

if you were to ask me his
name, I couldn’t tell you.
Bobby, James, Eric, or Brian,
who knows?!, but what I do
know for certain is—a nearly
legless boy was just as active
as the others on my block.

he had a massive head of
unruly curls, a gap-toothed smile,
and rosy cheeks.
light as my palms and sweet as
summer honey, I’d been sweet on
him, too.

my neighbor, Mrs. Jones, kept her
eyes on me. I had a much older
cousin who lived at the end of our
block, and she hawk-eyed me, too.
my mom’s people were serious about
me… first grandchild, first great-grand,
first girl-child of teenagers who
thought playing kissing cousins
had been real love.

I, a product of popcorn love
skipping down the block,
landing eyes on the boy as light
as my palms, but still Black as
the day is long, wouldn’t be
caught dead on the tracks that
took his leg.

even I, at the age of nine,
knew how dangerous
wooden planks, old screws,
unguarded rails, and Amtrak was…
and I stayed on the right side
of them… forever cautious of
keeping both my legs.


This piece was first published on Substack Notes.


Scattered Words: Hardcover $26.00 USD|Scattered Words: eBook $11.00 USD|Scattered Words: Amazon

Because “Time Waits for No Man”

Substack Feed “Food for the Soul”

Don’t think you’ll always have time to reach out or respond to someone. Life is short. Time is shorter. Moments become memories. Make the best of them.

“Time and tide wait for no man.” —Geoffrey Chaucer.


Scattered Words: Hardcover $26.00 USD|Scattered Words: eBook $11.00 USD|Scattered Words: Amazon