Tag Death

My Special Guest tonight is…

The Mush from the Hill 4 Comments

Langston Hughes and Suicide

James Mercer Langston Hughes, born in February 1901 and from Joplin, Missouri was a bit of an all rounder being a poet, activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist.

My usual surfing the open expanse of the WWW brought me to this poignant three verser with, to some, a touchy subject for a title.

I remember a time when this just wasn’t talked about, such a cowardly and selfish act. Now-a-days though with information so widely available, this and so many other taboo topics are now just tomorrows fish and chip wrappers. Don’t get me wrong I’m not belittling any such traumatic or devastating issues.

I just feel that the innocence of the world has been lost somewhere and I wonder about when it became so sad.

But I guess I’m not saying anything you don’t already know.

 

Suicide

Ma sweet good man has

Packed his trunk an’ left.

Ma sweet good man has

Packed his trunk an’ left.

Nobody to love me:

I’m gonna kill ma self.

 

I’m gonna buy me a knife with

A blade ten inches long,

Gonna buy me a knife with

A blade ten inches long.

Shall I carve ma self or

That man that done me wrong?

 

‘Lieve I’ll jump in de river

Eighty-nine feet deep.

‘Lieve I’ll jump in de river

Eighty-nine feet deep.

Cause de river’s quiet

And a po’ po’ gal can sleep.

 

Ghost in the Mirror

The Mush from the Hill 5 Comments

Looking in the mirror it’s all I can see

The ghost of a dead man looking back at me

I loved him so much, father of mine

But all I want now is a chance to be free

 

You were the boss, you drew the line

Nobody dared to undermine

On pain of death that’s how it felt

Life was easier just to resign

 

Your hands big enough no need for a belt

Only the once did I show the welt

But once was enough to be scared of you

Mental anguish is what you dealt

 

No longer here, this much is true

I couldn’t even mourn for you

I still hear your belittling discourse

Bullish words I never outgrew

 

Back in the mirror, I look again

With weary smile, I count to ten

I am who I am, what will be; will be!

Living my life until death knows when

 

Copyright © JRFC April 2019

A Cold War Nightmare

The Mush from the Hill 18 Comments

“Your ego is writing cheques your body can’t cash”, a great Top Gun quote and kind of how I’m feeling.

My fight with my demented monkey is not getting any better so I’m gonna make a strategic retreat and take a time out. I’m afraid to say that I just can’t multi-task and I’m suffering for it. I seem to have a lot going on at the moment and I’m struggling to keep up.

This is not good bye this is see you later, at least from a writing point of view. So as a parting gift I’ll leave you with a failed short story. I entered it into a competition after some persuasion but to no avail.

Maybe I’m just not a story writer. Still I wrote it so I’ll publish it like I do. My attempt at a 300 word Flash Fiction.

Hwyl Fawr Ffrindiau.

A Cold War Nightmare

It was all over the news. Chaos had ensued around him and all he could do was stand there at the edge of the shore.

He should have been thinking about other things, like life flashing before his eyes kind of things. Instead he stood mindfully watching the gentle tide ebb and flow around his feet as they sunk into the wet sand.

He didn’t think that morning that the day would end like this. End; such a resolute word, to end, to stop, to cease, he just didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t do anything about it because there was no more time.

No time to play games on his console. No time to go to the movies, No time to kiss and hug his loved ones and say goodbye. No time.

No more time because they were coming. That sound, that distinctive sound coming from the horizon, getting closer, getting louder. His mind was trying to distinguish it with something different to what he knew it was. A hurricane, a tsunami, a swarm of giant killer bees, anything with a chance of survival after the event.

Unfortunately, this was not natural; this was manmade by stupid, incompetent, childish Man. He giggled to himself ironically, as he thought ‘who am I to judge’.

He was soon pulled from his thoughts as the sound became something to look at racing across the sky and yet time seemed to slow down. It was such a beautiful day with the sun shining bright in a pale blue summer sky. Not a cloud could be seen to hide the horror that was about to envelope the world. Then silence.

Silence as he watched the first of the missiles drop from the sky and hit the sea with a blinding white flash and… The end!

 

Copyright © JRFC February 2019

Images from Pixabay, modified by JRFC.

 

War

The Mush from the Hill 3 Comments

This one, written last month, was a combination idea from a game I was playing at the time and an unfortunate topic that recurred in nightmares I used to have as a teen. Odd combination I know but I’m afraid it did inspire this harrowing thought.

War

For what!!

To celebrate the audacity

Of a mushroom cloud

Aftermath

 

No one left but

The ruined statues for

The millions dead

Who will never see

 

Just mutilation

Left to rot and decay

And wash away

In storms of acid rain

 

A ravaged earth

Torn apart

Bludgeoned

And scarred

 

Not even the essence

Of history

Will morn this troubled

Landscape

 

As the ash of a

Previous existence

Now rests in

Polluted air

 

Where memories die

Not even their ghosts

Want to wonder

A dead world

 

Proud nation after

Proud nation

Felled one skyscraper

After another

 

Its people culled

In the name of peace

And protection

Of one another

 

Or so the Powers that be

Proclaimed

When they pressed the button

And all for what!!

 

Copyright © JRFC December 2018

Image from Pixabay

Here I Am Again

The Mush from the Hill 2 Comments

Here I am again

Amused by what I see

Watching those sprint by

Don’t know why

Just a thing I do

While I wait

 

It baffles me

Spending your lives

Chasing the dream

It seems like you live

With heads in clouds

Not looking around

 

Trying to get by

On some materialistic high

And a grunt from the weight

Of all that burden

And the choices you make

Why?

 

Life’s short enough

To worry about that stuff

And wake up one day

Look in the mirror

‘When did the years go by?’

A sigh

 

And a knock on the door

You deplore as you run

Down the stairs

To see me there

As I help you up

From your neck breaking fall

 

Copyright © JRFC August 2018
Image from Pixabay, modified by JRFC