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Archive for fear of death and dying

Where Have I been?

Journey Behind the Falls at Niagara ...

 

I have been on a journey…

My friend

I have not been lost

intentionally

but a journey of length

and depth  has

challenged my

very heart and soul

I have gathered need

and gathered sorrow

My journey leads me

down dark alleys

bright rooms,

painful thoughts

and haunting fears

Tears are worthless

here on my journey

But the tears still come

and roll down my cheeks

like snowballs gathering

size and speed

My nose and face feel clogged

from the emotions spent

on this journey

Come free me my friend

from this torment

But I do not cry for myself

I cry for another

My son, my dear son

What will be?

Sickness again claimed

him on June 24 after

his American History

Regents exam…of which he

did receive an 88!

The victory of his passing

is overshadowed by the

illness that gripped him in

its stealy hands

I wish for him joy,

health, and happines…

I pray for him health, health, and more health

So that has been my journey my friend

Seeking health and strength for

the child of my womb

The child I had prayed for 15 years ago

is in a battle for his life….

So my journey is not a lonely one

but a hard. brittle, prickly one

Where have I been?  Right here,

at home, at work, but journey is a battle of

the mind and strength of the

spirit.

JOurney is to walk a walk of faith,

and endurance…

So I have not called you,  written you,

but I know you are still there.

I will not go,

while I continue this journey,  whose

destination I yet do not know.

-fini-

Riveroflifelisajoy

credit of waterfalls image…from aol journey images

MIDDLE PASSAGE #2 Memories of a slave from the MotherLand to the MIDDLE PASSAGE VOYAGE….FICTION BY RIVEROFLIFELISAJOY SHORT STORY

https://soundcloud.com/joshua-michael-howard/if-you-try

 

 

http://schooloffish.wordpress.com/2007/10/12/god-is-okay-with-slavery/ This picture was taken from  archives on slavery.  It was placed in this fiction story written by me….I thought a real picture would help the reader to understand the harsh treatment of slaves.  It was a course that I took that enlightened me to the terrible experience of the MIDDLE PASSAGE and what it did to the many tribes that had been taken hostage by the  SLAVE TRADERS. 

 That is why I had written an earlier post regarding PAT BUCHANNON’S shallow view on the slavery of African Americans and how he, (((PAT BUCHANNON))) thought that black people should be thanking “God” for slavery.  

 I will be writing  short stories based loosely on the readings and  course work I took for my education.  I am not an expert….but being African American and having lived in circumstances as an Afrcian American for 48 years may give me a little insight to attempt to “channel” some of my ancestors and their struggles through fictional dipictions of  slave experiences.

  I hope I do them justice.

At the bottom of this you will find a discussion I raised and copied regarding the emancipation of the  slaves due to Lincoln.

**************************************************************************

********************  Middle Passage and the Loss of my Village and Family—-Slave Memories…#2

OUR VILLAGE WAS CLOSE BY THE SEA.  MY MOTHER HAD A GARDEN AND MY FATHER  HUNTED FOR OUR FOOD WITH THE OTHER MEN FROM THE TRIBE.  There was a rival tribe that had stolen some of my mothers, and other women’s vegetables from their gardens. 

 Everyone was angry and running around.  I was 8 years old.  My brothers were 12 years old, and 15 years old  and a  7months old.  My parents talked and then my father and my older brothers  ran with their  spears to meet the other tribes men.  They had put on body paint,  and war feathers. 

The tribesmen gather in the center of the village and began to chant and sing and jump up and down until the air was filled with their voices and the dust rose up making swirling clouds around our heads.

  My father and the tribesmen ran from the village in anger and excitement chanting with raised spears.  My mother took me back to our hut and began to prepare the midday meal.  The war was on!  I did not know if my father would be back.

  My mother cooked yam and potatoe and meat.  She seasoned it and then we ate.  Suddenly there was a noise at the far end of the village.  Women were screaming and running in our direction.  My mother dropped her bowl and looked to the center of the village. 

She screamed and then grabbed me and my baby brother.  She pushed us into the jungle and ran, and pushed me and ran some more.  When we came to the beach we saw big things on the water floating. 

 I had never seen anything like that before.  It was brown on the bottom, and had cloth on the top floating in the wind.  Suddenly my mother screamed and I looked up as saw my mother being dragged away from me with my baby brother in her arms. She looked back at me and screamed again and I was picked up and carried away too.

  I began to scream and cry for my mother, and my father.  I remember being in a small boat that carried us to the big brown boat with the floating clothes.  My mother was forced to climb the boat, and I was forced too.  When we got on the boat we were chained together and then put down in a black place that smelled so strong that I gagged and threw up. 

 I was hit from behind and forced to lay down next to my mother and baby brother.  My baby brother had not stopped crying since this all began.  My mother held my hand and I was sobbing. 

 I heard a language I did not understand.  I could only see legs, and arms of people I had never seen before.  They looked angry and they shouted at us.  There were many people from our village, some old men, and some sickly men who had not gone to war with our rival tribe.

  Young boys, girls, and women from our village were on this big boat too.  Everyone was throwing up from the smell.  Everyone was crying and scared of this new tribe that was attacking us in our tribesmen absence. 

What would happen to us?  Where were we being taken?  Why did these tribesmen look so different from us?  Why did they seem so angry at us?  What law of their tribe had we broken?

  Some of my tribesmen and women I heard talking amongst themselves thought that these were evil spirits from our rival tribe that had been sent by their witch doctor to destroy us! 

 What a powerful witch doctor they had…some of the people said.  What will my father think when he comes back from war?  Our tribe was the stronger of the two….we had more people, and our tribe was tall and the rival tribe were not so tall. 

 So our wars with them were usually quick.  Our men would fight and battle for several hours, and injure some of their tribe and then fall back to our village until the next conflict…showing our dominence over them.  But now, who would cook for my father and brothers? 

 Who would cook for all of the tribesmen.  How could they fight this new foe who had taken the whole village captive?  I began to feel sick, and I had to relieve myself.  I was laying down on my back and my legs were aching.  My baby brother was wimpering now. 

 My mother was chanting and squeezing my hand.  The angry strange looking tribesman  started  pulling some of the villagers out of the areas that we were chained to. 

 My mother and baby brother were taken away from me and all I remember was my mother wailing and screaming my name, my baby brother’s name and then her voice cut short and then other villages started to wail and scream to our ancestors.

  Their was alot of noise coming from above my head in the blackness.  I could see specks of light….something dripped on my head and it smell bad.  I threw up again, and then I passed out. 

I woke up again seeing that my mother was gone and so was my baby brother I began to cry.  One of my captors hit the bottoms of my feet with something very hard.  I cried more and then they left me alone.  I had relieved myself on myself.  I smelled it and I threw up again. 

 Next to me was an old man from the village.  He had been quiet for a long time.  I called out to him but he did not answer.  He never answered me.  I knew he was dead.  I screamed for the ancestors to take me away from this black hole and torment. 

 I prayed as my mother had taught me to.  I asked forgiveness of my ancestors for any thing I might have done.  I felt a tug and a yank on my feet and I felt myself pulled to my feet.  The old man came out dead on the floor next to me. 

 My captors separated the chains and then reconnected them to a living  villager man.  They took the old man away and moved me down to the next villager.  They took us out into the open air.

  Something stuck into my foot as I walked.  I stumbled and one of my captors hit me in the back again.  I began to wimper.  I know what wailing would cause to happen so I wimpered to myself and prayed to my ancestors again.

  The sky was clear, blue and few clouds were around.  The big boat rocked from side to side.  I began to feel sick again.  They thrust a liquid in my mouth.  I began to throw  up again. I was hit again from behind and they yelled something at me.  I heard screaming and I saw a woman from the village being chased.

  She ran around the boat while the captors chased her.  They were laughing this time.  She finally was caught and they did  something in a crowd and encircled around her while she screamed out the name of her husband and ancestors. 

 I saw blood come  crawling from beneath the crowd of captors and the woman stoped yelling. 

 There was silence again.  Suddenly one of the captors tossed her dead body over the side of the boat.  Many of us who saw that gasped, and moaned and sung the song of sorrow for the dead. We called as one voice for the ancestors to come to carry her away to our ancestral home.

  We were taken back down to the hole and left until the captors took us out again.  Some men and women and children were beat, until they bled.  Some men were beat until you could see pieces of meat from their backs fly off in different directions.  Then we were taken back into the black hole. 

 Day turned into night and night into day.  One day the big boat stopped and we who had survived were taken from the boat and washed brutally, and greased. 

 New chains were placed on our hands and feet and we were taken into what appeared to be a village with more of the tribes people who looked and dressed differently then us. 

 They looked angry and laughed at the same time.  I passed out.  I awoke on a wood floor.  There was a large animal that looked like something I had never seen before. 

 One of the captors had been sitting and looking away from me.  I looked around and saw some of the villager men who had survived the trip.  I sat up and then I saw a big white hut.  There were other tribes in this new land.  I did not recognize any of them. 

 When the big animal stopped we were all yanked off the wood floor and put on the ground.  I was very weak, and sick.  I began to throw up again.  I was hit again.

  I was yanked to follow my fellow villagers to  a small white hut.  When we arrived more of the strange looking tribesman and some tribes men from my mother land were there.  We were handed bowls of food and we ate.

  This was strange food but it tasted better than the food on the large boat.  I began to feel better.  I looked around and saw animals I had never seen before.  Some were funny….a white bird with a red wobbly skin on its head and neck.  It made funny noises. 

I began to miss my mother and I cried again.  I was hit again. I began to wimper to myself and pray to my ancestors.  I wondered what ever happened to my father and the other tribesman and if they knew what had happened to us. 

I was given a hut to share with other tribesman, and clothes.  I was given work to do in a very, very large garden.  I never forgot my mother, baby brother, and my father and kinsman. 

 I worked until I died from a severe beating. 

~~~~~riveroflifelisajoy

**********************************************************************************************

This is a document regarding the emancipation of the slaves……

COPYWRITE 2003-2008  SON OF THE SOUTH
WWW.SONOFTHESOUTH.NET

paul@sonofthesouth.

 

 

Abraham Lincoln and

 

Abraham Lincoln and Emancipated Slaves, April 1865

Richmond Virginia, the Confederate Capitol fell on April 3, 1865. The following day, April 4, 1865, President Abraham Lincoln went to the fallen city. Throngs of slaves were in the streets, celebrating their first day of freedom, and welcoming Lincoln. Thomas Nast captured this historic event with his drawing presented at your right.  This is perhaps the best portrait of Mr. Lincoln ever produced.  It shows that while Lincoln was to tragically die 10 days later, he did, if only briefly, get to see the fruit of his leadership and resolve.  He was able to see the grateful tears of the emancipated, and hear their cheers of appreciation. There is a fascinating story about this day, so please click on the image for the full story of the day that Abraham Lincoln walked the streets of the fallen Rebel Capitol.

braham Lincoln Entering Richmond Virginia

MIDDLE PASSAGE AND THE MEMORIES OF A SLAVE~~~Fiction by Riveroflifelisajoy

Ma name is John Smith.

Ah, been in dis here plantation since a

was a young chile..sold offin’

my Mama befo’ I was ten.

But Ah memba’ my Mama face

and my Mama hands.

My Mama face wuz brown

tired and sad. 

She wore a ole’ faded

red head rag.   She would

take me wid her to clean

the chicken coups

and feed the cows.

Ah would play and chase

the chickens!

One day the master

of  da house came and

picked me out from

ma friends and told

my Mama it wuz time

fo’ me to go!

I wuz too big to

be playin’ anymo’.

The master sent ole’

Joe, the helper to carry me off

to the market to be

sold. 

Ah cried and kicked and

screamed fo’ my

Mama. 

She just stood a lookin’

after me and did not

move to help me!

Ah watched my Mama

grow tiny as the horse,

cart  pulled me and the otha’ slaves who

was packed into it away from

my birth plantation to a

new and dangerous beginin’!

Ah wuz sold to the Williams.

Mr. Williams was kind, but

his son was the mean one.

He liked to beat slaves fo’ nuthin’

and then leave um to die if they

put up a fuss.

He would jus’ buy mo’

slaves the next day.

The Williams plantation

was a cotton plantation.

Hard work, pickin’ cotton,

cuts up yo’ hands and stuff.

Ah grew big and strong.

I could carry three times my weight

on a good day.

So young master Williams took

good care uh me. 

But ah hated ta see

my friends suffer so.

One day we heard of the

UNDERGROUND RAILROAD.

Ah  decided to run awa’.

No, Ah told ye, that Master Williams

wuz good to me.  Ah just wanted to see

my Mama so bad.

Ah did not care about good treatment.

Ah wanted to be free! 

Ah made a chance run fo’ it

one night.

Ah wuz tryin’ ta meet

up wid the UnderGround RailRoad

in the forest.

Ah, made a mistake.

I told ole’ Buck, who curries the

Master’s horses.  He warn’ me

not to try it!  Ah, told him to minds his business!

I could out run any dog, or horse….cause the master

fed me the best food cause ah carried the heavy loads and pulled

plows when the horses went lame.

Sos’  I think that is why I wuz caught so fast.

When they draggs’ me back to the

plantation, there was ole’ Buck a lookin’

at me.  From a distance he kept gettin’

bigger, and bigger.  He stood right at

the wipping post and look at me….just starin’

and shaking his ole’ grey head.

When they tied me up I could see dried

blood where other slaves had been beat.

It wuz a cloudy day.

It wuz a hot night.

They found me in the day and wup me

deep into da night.

Young Master Williams took a break

from his workin’ my back, and

then told his workers to continue on

till the next mornin’ just wupin’

my back.

I stop yellin’ and then I don’t

member nothin after dat.

All I know is that I found ma’self

sittin up here wit Jesus, and da

Angels.

Oh, and I found Mama too!

Except  she got a big smile on

huh face, and she wearing a white

dress and she don’t look tired no’ mo’.

Fini~~~

Fiction Depiction of Slavery

by Riveroflifelisajoy

The Doe and the Hunter

Baby mule deer in wildflowers

 PICTURE FROM AWAY.COM

**************************************************************

 

He rose up and

cursed the day

that I was born

because he simply

did not like

me

We contend for

a spot on the

dot placed

on center

stage

Who is she

that she should

be placed over me

he says

he complains

daily and they

listen

he rants daily

and they listen

then they begin to

plot my

demise

my destruction

they seek

and plan their

victory party

over the

doe and

her child

they run quickly

to the river and

lay their trap

for the doe when

she drinks her

water

So I entered into

the lair of

my haters and

knowingly began

to drink

from the river until

I hear a

SNAP!

AND A THUD!

When you dig

a ditch

you better

dig two

for in setting a

trap

you may find

yourself

the  victim of

your own crime

and  plot

the doe jumps

from fear

and runs off

back to the safety

of  the forest

while the hunter

lays at the

bottom of

his well laid

pit–realizing

that he forgot

to look where he

was walking

in his glee

over his trap

and soon prey

subdued and

destroyed

The doe runs

back to her fawn

and then continues on

until

another hunter

lays another

trap

on another

God Given

day!

—riveroflifelisajoy

COTTON MOUTH

Jay Jewels Cry FOR HUMANITYDry like the parchment of the

scroll of a writ

of so long ago

Thousands of years

hid away

Moments in the hands of

an anthropologist

crackling under his

sweaty palms

grasp

the dry old parchment

will melt away

if not put in sealed

archival containers

dry like the old linen dress

of yesteryear

like a ball of cottom in my mouth

the medical diagnosis

has come and gone

and now my sensations are

minimized

except for the diagnosis

pain that is ripping its’

way deep into my heart.

Trying to explain to my

child that he has to

take medication to save his

life.

Cotton mouth,

loss of taste for the

things you love.

Loss of sensation in my

feet and hands

Sitting I type not

feeling, not

wanting to feel the pain

deep searing a tunnel through

my stomach

I feel full,

gas overcomes my belly

cotton mouth

prevents me from

eating

like the fullness of

emptiness I hold

deep in my belly to

unfold until I scream from

pain and agony

Take the truth,

dealt the truth

no compassion

was the final blow

given

lost in a new

hell

fear of the unknown and

the diagonosis compells

the rickety fence of hell to

open and reveal the ominous

cavern that threatens to swallow

us whole

We must proceed my child

we must go in

Cotton mouth,

sweaty palms,

sweaty feet,

sudden compulsion to

release bodily fluids,

fight or flight sydrome

in full affect

compel me oh Lord

toward the light

Let taste return

Cotton Mouth–

I cannot swallow

for the diagnosis

itself is not paletable

The diagnosis was

given with such cold

precision like the blade

of the surgeons knife

Hold my hand my child

walk together we will

toward the tower of hell

but together we will

climb to heaven

despite the steely grasp of the  Cotton mouth!

Cross Over

Old Fabric by RiveroflifelisajoyCross Over and move out the way

Sometimes the river does not

sway,  the tide is high  and

my spirit is low

I do not want to look back

or let go

What do I say  to my child

to day

His love of life has

been challenged,

like a dry twig broken

and chips of it splinter

and fall away

His health is  limited

yet a picture of health

is he

So why this sad problem

that plagues me today

The doctor looks cool, and

medical team too serene

Your child has to take

xxxmiligrams and

that is all…

Have a nice day

Go forth, leave the

hospital and jump back

into the stream. river of life

and move on

after this limited 5 day

hospital stay

But wait,  I have more questions,

What about the side affects….

“OH, he just might be a bit sleepy…that is all

any way…have a good day!

No, NO!  I need to say this,  I have to ask

that….do not dismiss me so easily

For I must fight for my child

I must question, and stay longer if

I must

For though you are the doctor…I cannot

entirely trust

for each patient has

different needs, and questions…so let us reason,

let us rationalize before we say our goodbyes!

So again I say dear Doctor

today—crossover from your generalized sermon, and

medical doctrine

Crossover to a parent who is human, and alive..

Because the condition of which you speak

is not simple to me

not simple to my child

just simple medical diagnosis to you

So please….cross over from the cold

cruel world  of illness

disease

and  speak

Woman to Woman,  possibly Mother to Mother

please.

Fini

Riveroflifelisajoy

You Understood me Right? Riveroflifelisajoy prose & poetry

Bambo Huts by Riveroflifelisajoy              I said that… and then you said I think

Well, I guess we will sit here

at the brink in the

thoughts of

our own heads

as we lay in

our own separate

beds

On the telephone

late at night

talking until we

fall asleep

afraid to close our

eyes because

of what resides

behind the

eyelids and

the pain that

threatens to crawl

out of its’

hole and pull

us within its

dark abyss and

home

hell to which a

place I have

never wanted to

roam

In the losses

and the battles

and the gathering of

strength by

adverseries

weapons

So here we sit

on the telephone

complaining at

each other

for not

understanding

what the other said

not understanding

what the other

meant

I want to hang up now

still too  close

to being wide

awake to

hang up

Usually

we fall asleep

with the phone

as an open line

till one of us realizes  that

the other has

fallen asleep and

finally hangs up

the phone

Then the other sleeps with

the constant buzzing

and respeat recording from

the phone “Please Hang UP…”

Till the morning creeps through

the window

the nights conversation, last words

mumbled into the phone

receiver, the last thoughts of

agony over the past like the

sand of the beach blowing away

into your dreams and pain lowers it’s

ugly head and crawls back to

its abyss until

finally you have fallen

into the arms of

dreamless sleep

Frustration of not being

understood before sleep

overcame you now is

disolved into

slumber and light breathing

of a sleeper

arms and legs curled

into the fetus position

and your brow

no longer furrowed

but now your forehead

clear of anger lines

your mouth slighty agape

and your fist Bambo Huts by Riveroflifelisajoy

unfurled into an

open hand at rest

You understood me Right?

A distant conversation that

has been put to rest

until another time

Put to rest until the next

night when

sleep is hard to find

so the phone calls again

and the little arguements

until sleepiness and the

“Sand Man” comes with

bag in hand to lead you by the

hand to “Sleepy Time Land” —

the place that bids you welcome

and  possible freedom from your

frustrated, pain, anguished, anxious

day…..Come bids the Sand Man,  Come

recline, resign to be at

peace and rest

The ocean of Sleepiness is at

its’ crest

Jump aboard and

gather your sleepy eyes

and let the sleepy time fly

and soon those things

that troubled you will flee

and you can stay here

with me

the Sand Man….Little horse, little sheep

jumping the enternal fence and you can

count them all……

You awake and look around and

there you find your link

to sleep, the

telephone—laying next

to you and then you groan.

How long before I begin to

regain normal sleeping patterns?

The tradegy that took

your natural sleep patterns

away and turned your midnight

hours into day….2 years ago…

the loss, the hurt you asage with

midnight phone calls to a dear and

trusted friend

You fuss and argue

just to pass the time

so to usher in

the Sand Man and

his bag of sand that invites you

to sleep and

cast away the cares of

the day…..

You understood me ….

Right???????

—-FINI—-

……riveroflifelisajoy

A Thought Provoked….

Old Fabric by RiveroflifelisajoyUpon my bed I lay

eyes shut and dreaming

my mind spins in time with

my breathing

Breathe deep and then

it feels shallow,

possibly a cold or bronchitis

The day eventful, loss of pay

loss of my goals

just for today

Looking at the gray clouded sky

outside my window in this

my dream,

I think, what if…..just what if

I could not see?

What if, I could not be me?

What if I could not raise my hand

to wipe away that bit of sand

on my brow or my feet?

What if  I had to wait

and wait, and wait

for someone to raise my body

to feed me, or clothe me?

What if I could not speak?

If I were always very, very ill and

weak?

What if this thought provoked by

my mother,

her talks about life to me

 Make me contimplate my possible destiny

had I not been born

though not wealthy at all

to this family that struggled

through and

buried our loved ones one or two

over the years.

Being wrapped up like kitten in

side a ball of yarn.

The thoughts provoked create 

a fresh fortress for my hurt and my

pain.

 What if,  after all is over,  I am

desolate, dead and alone in

my grave

What if,  time does not stand

still, but continues on in some

twilight realm

With a strange and eerie

cloud of purple   mist

A little boat cresting on the

floating purple cloud

but then I awake

from my bed and sleepiness

I must shake

My thought provoked

my dreams dare lead

me to the shallows of

the marshy swamps

with quick sand laid

to suck me under

to the realm of the purple

mist, My hurt to battle

without sword or shield

What if, what if!

I had not driven up that road

I had not eaten that pear

I had not said that phrase

What if I dare say what if

I could replay, restate and

forgive myself for what I

said to you, my friend

this day!

For from clay I am made

but from the iron of my family ancestory..

for endurance

 at my core

 I must

regain my strength

to move forward

and not ponder

the thought provoked.