Riveroflifelisajoy’s Weblog
Just another WordPress.com weblogArchive for fear of death and dying
Where Have I been?
July 3, 2008 at 9:48 am · Filed under amateur poetry and prose writing, being disabled and dependant, being strong willed and determined to over come lives p, Black Children, Black Family, Black History, Black Male Children and Poverty, black male teens, Children, Children of All Races, children with seizure/epilepsy, Coping with Emotional Pain of Tradegy, Coping with Seizure, EASING CHILDREN'S FEARS IN HOSPITAL STAY, EPILEPSY, Faith, Family in Crisis, Family Leave Act and Epilepsy/seizure, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying, Fear of the unknown, Health, health of black male teens, HOME ECONOMICS, PRESSURE OF SCHOOL WORK VS. SEIZURE ACTIVITY, Save the Children, Schneider Children Neurology Dept., SCHNIEDER CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL THERAPY DOG, SEIZURE DISORDER, SEIZURE DISORDER AND INHOSPITAL VIDEO EEG, Seizure disorders and musical comforts, SELF REFLECTION, Selfesteem, single parenting, THOUGHTS ABOUT LOVE BY BLACK TEENAGERS 2008, Trusting God for All things, Uncategorized, Views from Within and tagged: Children Safety, Illness in Teenagers ....seizures and their affects on, New Seizure episode and medications therapy, PRESSURE OF SCHOOL WORK VS. SEIZURE ACTIVITY, Schneider Children Neurology Dept., Schneider Children's Hospital N
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
May 25, 2008 at 1:50 pm · Filed under ABOLITION OF SLAVERY WAS DONE TWO CENTURIES AGO...WHY D, Al Sharpton on Human Rights, American History, and The Politics of Economics, Barak Obama for President, Black Children, black crime and its affects on the family, Black Family, Black History, Black Male Children and Poverty, black male teens, BLACK WOMEN DESTROYED DURING THE MIDDLE PASSAGE DURING, Blacks in Politics, BRUTALITY OF SLAVERY AND MIDDLE PASSAGE, CHARLES DARWIN THEORY OF EVOLUTION AND THE ENDANGERED P, Children, children and mothers's in slavery, CLINTON ON JOBS, Compassion for the Needy, Coping with Death, Coping with Emotional Pain of Tradegy, Coping with Loss, Culture lost and regained through slavery, DEATH AND MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS DURING MIDDLE PASSAGE, Decline of African/Black American marriages, drugs in the black community, Faith, Family in Crisis, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying, Fear of the unknown, FICTION WRITING ABOUT SLAVERY, FREE WRITE, Health, How to Respond to another's troubles, Human Rights Issues, Obama and his personal struggle, PAT BUCHANAN RACIST REMARKS ON SLAVERY IN AMERICA AND I, PAT BUCHANNON AND HIS VIEWS THAT BLACKS SHOULD BE THANK, plantations and broken black families, POLITICIANS IN 2008 PRESIDENTIAL RACE AND THOUGHTS ON R, POWER OF LOVE AND MEMORY, Racism, Religion and our Faith, Selfesteem, slavery and broken black men, slavery and destroyed families, slavery and separated families, SLAVERY AND THE BLACK AMERICAN MARRIAGE IN TODAY'S SOCI, SLAVERY AND THE WEST INDIES AND ABROAD, The Black Christian Church, THE KENNEDY FAMILY BACKS OBAMA, THE VOYAGE FROM MOTHERLAND AFRICA TO THE NEW LAND AMER, Views from Within and tagged: AMERICA TODAY MORE THAN 200YEARS SINCE SLAVERY WAS ENDE, BLACK MALE CHILDREN AND SLAVERY, BLACK WOMEN DESTROYED DURING THE MIDDLE PASSAGE DURING, BRUTALITY OF SLAVERY AND MIDDLE PASSAGE, DEATH AND MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS DURING MIDDLE PASSAGE, FICTION WRITING ABOUT SLAVERY, FICTION WRITING ABOUT SLAVERY BY RIVEROFLIFELISAJOY, PAT BUCHANNON RACIST REMARKS REGARDING SLAVERY, SELF ESTEEM AND SLAVERY, THE VOYAGE FROM MOTHERLAND AFRICA TO THE NEW LAND AMER, THE WEST INDIES AND ABROAD
https://soundcloud.com/joshua-michael-howard/if-you-try
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
Abraham Lincoln and
Abraham Lincoln and Emancipated Slaves, April 1865Richmond 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. |
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The Doe and the Hunter
April 25, 2008 at 4:26 am · Filed under Faith, fear of death and dying, Fear of the unknown, haiku prose, job conflict correlated to animal and hunter, POETRY, Poetry about Determination against All Odds, PROSE, Prose Poetry, Save the Children, SELF REFLECTION, Selfesteem, single parenting, Views from Within and tagged: job conflict correlated to animal and hunter, Prose and Poetry, short story told through amatuer prose and poetry by Ri, Tiny Short
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
April 2, 2008 at 11:31 am · Filed under Activities for Teens, All Race Families, amateur poetry and prose writing, and tradegy, Art, BAD BEDSIDE MANNER OF DOCTORS, being disabled and dependant, Black Children, Black Family, Black History, Black Male Children and Poverty, black male teens, Children, Children of All Races, children with seizure/epilepsy, Compassion for the Needy, Coping with Emotional Pain of Tradegy, Coping with Loss, Coping with Seizure, EPILEPSY, Faith, Family in Crisis, Family Leave Act and Epilepsy/seizure, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying, Fear of the unknown, Health, How Professional Mentors influence the Young, How to Respond to another's troubles, Insomnia, Leadership and Its Responsibility, Medical Crisis in the Family, PARENT AND CHILD ACTIVITIES TO BRING THE FAMILY TOGETHE, religion, Save the Children, SEIZURE DISORDER, Seizure Disorder and the Family Affects, SELF REFLECTION, single parenting, SLEEP AND HEALTH CONDITIONS, Thoughtless words, Uncategorized, Views from Within and tagged: Emotional Condition of a patient and family at medical, Fear of the unknown
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
April 2, 2008 at 11:11 am · Filed under All Race Families, amateur poetry and prose writing, American History, and tradegy, Art, BAD BEDSIDE MANNER OF DOCTORS, being disabled and dependant, Black Children, Black Family, Black History, Black Male Children and Poverty, black male teens, Children, Children of All Races, children with seizure/epilepsy, EPILEPSY, Faith, Family in Crisis, Family Leave Act and Epilepsy/seizure, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying, Prose Poetry and tagged: Child Reaction to Doctors, Doctors Bedside Manner, Medical Diagnosis, Prescriptions and Their Side effects, prose poetry on coping with severe medical conditions, prose poetry on family in crisis, Prose Poetry on health
Cross 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
March 7, 2008 at 9:48 am · Filed under amateur poetry and prose writing, BLACK HISTORY WOMENS HEALTH, Coping with Emotional Pain of Tradegy, Coping with Loss, Faith, Family in Crisis, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying, food, recreation, painting pictures for hobbies, sing, haiku prose, Health, Insomnia, Mid Life Crisis
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
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….
March 3, 2008 at 8:20 pm · Filed under amateur poetry and prose writing, being disabled and dependant, Elder Care and ElderCare Givers, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying and tagged: being disabled, death, dreams, dying, fear of being alone, fear of being dependant, Prose and Poetry
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.
MIDDLE PASSAGE AND THE MEMORIES OF A SLAVE~~~Fiction by Riveroflifelisajoy
May 24, 2008 at 2:10 pm · Filed under ABOLITION OF SLAVERY WAS DONE TWO CENTURIES AGO...WHY D, Al Sharpton on Human Rights, American History, Barak Obama for President, Black Army Reservists, Black Children, Black Family, Black History, Black Male Children and Poverty, black male teens, BLACK WOMEN DESTROYED DURING THE MIDDLE PASSAGE DURING, Blacks in Sports, BRUTALITY OF SLAVERY AND MIDDLE PASSAGE, Business and Human Rights Ethics, CHARLES DARWIN THEORY OF EVOLUTION AND THE ENDANGERED P, children and mothers's in slavery, CLINTON ON JOBS, Coping with Death, Coping with Emotional Pain of Tradegy, Coping with Loss, Culture lost and regained through slavery, Decline of African/Black American marriages, Faith, Family in Crisis, fear of being alone, fear of death and dying, Fear of the unknown, FICTION WRITING ABOUT SLAVERY, FREE WRITE, Have Faith in Spite of the Circumstances, Health, HILLARY CLINTON AND BARAK OBAMA, Hillary Clinton for President, Human Rights Issues, Lincoln and Douglas Debates, Negro Doll Makers, Negro Men In Medicine, Obama and his personal struggle, Obama on RAISE THE MINIMUM WAGE FOR ALL AMERICANS--spee, PAT BUCHANAN RACIST REMARKS ON SLAVERY IN AMERICA AND I, PAT BUCHANNON AND HIS VIEWS THAT BLACKS SHOULD BE THANK, plantations and broken black families, Poverty in America, Racism, Religion and our Faith, Religion and Trust in God, Rev. Wright and his Racist Comments, Save the Children, SELF REFLECTION, Selfesteem, Selfishness, Short stories by Amatuers, single parenting, slavery and broken black men, slavery and destroyed families, slavery and separated families, SLAVERY AND THE BLACK AMERICAN MARRIAGE IN TODAY'S SOCI, SLAVERY AND THE WEST INDIES AND ABROAD, THE KENNEDY FAMILY BACKS OBAMA, THE VOYAGE FROM MOTHERLAND AFRICA TO THE NEW LAND AMER, The wipping post and slavery, Thoughtless words, Trusting God for All things, Uncategorized, Views from Within, Writing and tagged: children and mothers in slavery, Culture lost and regained through slavery, Mini Short, plantations and broken black families, Short stories by Amatuers, slavery and broken black men, slavery and destroyed families, slavery and separated families, The wipping post and slavery
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
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