Josiah Jack
never uttered a sound
when they dragged him away
from the scene.
when his poor body
was eventually found,
the treatment endured,
had been mean.

With no tongue in his head
they had left him for dead.

With a month
on his back,
he did indeed
contemplate.
Only sin
“he was black”
hence forth
this weary state.

They attacked in the night,
hooded and white.

All in all
he was
lucky
to be
breathing at all,
all because
he was plucky,
all because
he stood tall.

A ***** they said
should lower his head.

Were they hooded
for fear?
Were they hooded
in shame?
Most likely,
once covered,
they could hide
of their name.

If things were so right,
why hide out of sight?

Bravery isn't
a word for the ****,
Cowards,
this word comes to mind.
Bravery comes
when there's only one man,
not one
with ten more stood behind.

I will strike in a pack
with someone watching my back.

Their plan
was to ****,
this man
Josiah Jack.
Perhaps they
get a thrill
when someone
cannot fight back.

They get real loud
when they join with the crowd.

Josiah
knew well
that if he
raised a hand
his kin folk
would feel hell
from this
unruly band.

So he did not fight
but gave in to his plight.

They think
they were hidden
beneath that
white hood,
Josiah's hearing
is sound
and his
memory is good.

So when things are forgot,
he will take of his lot.

That's exactly
what happened,
as they lay
in their bed.
The flames hurled
with fury
the sky
filled with red.

This man barbequed them like fish on a rack
and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.

Gather people
for a story
so profound,
Not created by me,
But a rare, rare reality,
Where forces so profound converged,
Generations forward
were forever altered.

Where one person's heroics
were another's fatal error

Where a family's love
was smothered
in
the churning waters
of Big Lagoon.

Big Lagoon sits
north of Agate Beach
shining treasures can be found
in the gathering sands
To the west,
The ocean rises and falls
To the east,
The lagoon's placid grassy waters roll.

It was an Indian Summer's warm, warm day,
Everything it promised was delivered.
Two days after Thanksgiving,
I remember it well,
the fog was gone,
the sun was high.

A family dog beach walk

Howard and Mary,
Olivia,
Gregory, every one called him Geddie,
Geddie's girlfriend, Lily.
The family dog, Fran, chasing sticks
in the ocean and in the sand.

Time stopped for
a diamond moment,
sun reflecting off the ocean.

To chase a stick
Fran ran
a ten foot wave
took her under.

Geddie ankle deep edged forward
when within that frozen moment
another giant wave emerged
the cliff that is the sand gave in,
in the merciless embrace
of the terrible wave,
He was pulled under.

Down the beach
Howard ran
plunged into the waters
to save his son,
He only found
Kingdom come.

While Geddie made his way
out of those frozen waters
and could not find his father,
Called by what unknown voice,
He dove back under,
Not to be found
for hours and miles later.

What is the power of love
which would propel each one?

Mary watching this unfold
could not abide their fate
and herself plunged in
for one last attempt
at saving grace.

The ocean says
"Many have fallen in
but few survive."

Mary and Howard
rolled
in and out
in that frozen water's breath.

While Olivia and Lily
frantically
called 911
and struggled on the beach
out of reach.

The power of the ocean
the power of love
had made three
one.

30 minutes later
Fran ran out
looking to play
one more round.

If by the Pacific Ocean
you stand
see urgent footprints
in the sand,
By chance
you hear the plaintive cry
of
"Marco Polo"
voices calling to one another,
It is the ocean singing
their last lullaby.

Walking along the river road
Was my friend and I
Along side in clear reflection
The Mad River gently floated by
While my friend and I
Spoke about loves
which had come and gone by.

When to my horror I did see
A child
a floating by
I dropped my back pack
And in to the river I did fly
Reaching down to grab that child
To safety, on this day, he would not drown as long as I'm around
I pulled him up and gently
I laid him on the ground.

Before we had a moment
Before a word could we say,
I saw another child
a bobbing, rushing, down fast this way
I jumped back into those frozen waters
I held her to my breast,
A sputtering
A muttering
I laid her on the grass,
There was no time to take a breath
Before another child down the river
floated my way.

I repeated my actions over and over
Went down to that river each time
Until as many children as I could gather
And lay them along side the river's
shallow shore.

Exhausted, now I stood
My friend sat on the green green grass
a crying to that noon time sun
We looked at each other in desperation's
silent hum.

One more
Two more
Three more
Four

A floating and a struggling they did come.

I didn't know what else to do

But I started running up the road
I knew the headwaters were
Up the road
Just a mile or so
or
so I thought.

In the distance I heard my friend
Calling my name in despair
Thinking that alone, I had left him there
To fight this futile battle.

To the headwaters I needed to go
To find out and stop this parade
Stop who was ever
Throwing these poor children
To the hell of the Mad River's
Watery grave.

The headwaters are just around this last bend
My friend's voice still echoes
The children's cries are sounds
Sounds I will always hear.

When I get there
I will tell you what it is
I found
I found awaiting there
Throwing all of these children down
for in this life to drown.

From the snow caps a melting,
The desert's valley floor
Through the farms
Past the city streets
To the ocean's mouth, it's final release
The Mad River flows
Taking our children as it goes.

I lived.
I lived in what seemed to be a perpetual hurricane.
Dervish like child, but mild of heart.
I practised living.
I practised loving and leaving.
I am glad that I did.
I bought the tee-shirt, filled up, wore it well.
Left nothing but a nasty taste and pungent smell.
Unsettled is the child wearing the wrinkled face of the ageing one.
The greying hair and playing air.

But, I am far less miserable.
As for now,on the table.
I present the lack of love, I so resent.
I have killed my self metaphorically.
I want some one, but I don't want me.
(C) Livvi