"They got electric chairs there - just your size" ~ Mick, in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
Just Your Size
A child awakes with eager eyes,
hoping for a Christmas surprise.
The sun rises on God's glory,
a body in an abandoned quarry,
and an electric chair...just your size.
When Chairs Went Electric
Back in nineteen sixty-five
When I sat down, I stayed alive -
I wouldn't be sent to Hell.
Oh, how I remember well -
furniture was not eclectic
when chairs went electric.
He was tough. He was no wimp.
He was a suitcase thrown by a chimp.
He broke his chains and got on outta there,
charged up by the electric chair.
All you water, please file neatly
into the ocean - I mean completely,
and if you are dirt, you are meant
to lie on a continent.
Islands and lakes, please prepare,
for your judgment, the electric chair.
they sit him down like a tired old man
in that throne of leather and iron—
old sparky, they called it,
like it was some friendly dog.
they strap the wrists, ankles, chest,
tight enough to stop god himself—
one last insult to liberty.
the sponge is wet, because dry
means fire, and lawsuits.
the mask goes on—black as every sin,
but it’s the switch they love.
fingers twitch, a nod from a judge
who’s eaten too much for lunch.
then—crack.
a snap of light no eye can see.
his body lifts like a puppet on strings
jerks, clenches, convulses,
the legs slam the frame,
his tongue thick in his mouth.
smoke rises from scalp and thigh—
a scent like roast beef
and shame.
they wait.
they juice him again.
and again,
until he stops pretending to be alive,
smoke wafts from every orfice in her body.
Some people were upset and they said it was unfair.
George Bailey killed old man Potter and he went to the electric chair.
George discovered that the eight thousand was stolen by Potter.
George became enraged and he was angry enough to slaughter.
George went to Potter's house with his gun and he shot him through the heart.
As they strapped George to the electric chair, he knew his decision wasn't smart.
George refused to have his head shaven and his hair burst into flames.
Poor George truly became a hot head and he only had himself to blame.
George became a psychopath even though he used to be nice.
He decided it was best to kill Potter and sadly, he paid the price.
As I think about it, it's only fair
that Matt should get the electric chair.
In three minutes of time, I wove pure gold
and waited several weeks to be told.
Seriously, I have him to thank
for not telling me my poem stank.
We should find it in our hearts to forgive.
Oh, the ignominy he must outlive.
I must kindly thank him, before I'm done
for his contests, creative and fun.
Here it is, Matt! Here's my latest rhyme.
Have mercy on me and take your time.
I was innocent as I went to sleep,
But soon I would be in trouble, deep.
My problems would pile up in a heap
As I went to sleep, to sleep.
I began to nap, blameless and free,
Without a trouble in the world,
But, as I lay there snoozing soundly,
Unfortunate events unfurled.
I witnessed the unlucky ax murder
Of a friend of a friend.
Why was I the only one to see?
Fate, I cannot comprehend.
The living friend asked me who did it.
So I squealed on who I saw.
A second murder, then sadly ensued, as he
Killed her with a hammer claw.
For that murder, then I too was guilty,
The jury reasoned, wise.
I should be sentenced unsparingly,
They sagely did advise.
In my friend's guilt, I would rightly share,
Though I went to sleep without a care,
I woke up to the chair, the chair.
I woke up to the electric chair.
Sing Sing old prison walls still sing
As men worked beyond their limits
The stench of old sparky still clings
Silence lingers as its laws prohibits
Yet
Sing Sing old prison walls still sing
Of those prisoners laments, within
Blooded weal’s on flesh that stings
Sometimes strung up left to swing
Yet
Sing Sing old prison walls still sing
So many went by the electric chair
Yeah, it so really became the thing
Last chance to repent and a prayer
With it, the walls of Sing Sing, sing
With it, the walls of Sing Sing, sing
Sing . . .
The ancestral savannahs of my people
Are still alive in the unseen horizons
Our grandparents have told us many
Wonderful things about our tribe
Before they arrived, we were here
On the banks of the rivers and streams
We stood and saw their ships
North, south, East and West
Your blood flows in my veins; Only we
Can irrigate the fields without profits
The sick mentality of favour doing
Need to be hang or put in the electric chair
We are not anyone boys or lessers
Our ancestors were kings, queens, and nobles
There was so much to eat and drink
The blood of our sweat, the sweat of our labor
Elements of stability; Rise Up Africans
Like a corpse, bury the weight of opprobrium
No more trembling, red blemishes
Shine in the middle; go nowhere
Africans, wise, and strong
Young and old; be a stimulating tree
Be part of the newfound springing up Africa
Amid the pale and faded flowers, we rise
Deliberately, and earnestly, we rise
With Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
©Poem Makers SL (18/04/24)
My life in this prison has seen too many ends,
Watching men come and go in the electric chair.
Though most of them were strangers and a few became friends,
I’ve often wondered whether or not their deaths were fair.
Although I’ve never been on death row, myself,
I’ve always wrestled with whether it’s right or wrong.
I continually put my heart on a shelf,
Wondering on which side of the fence I belong.
People should be punished for the crimes they commit,
But to what degree do, we as humans, have the right.
I don’t have the answer; I’m the first to admit,
But it just seems wrong to kill someone out of spite.
I’ll continue to do my job, though not for long.
I can’t be the last one on Earth that these men see.
I’ll let God decide if Heaven is where they belong.
Killing is the lowest form of humanity.
i was explaining this at the
breakfast table
my wife pulled that electric chair face
but i consider
that it is better to
be adventurous than
cautious
my son takes another bite
of his jam on toast
and my wife
gives me those
ultraviolet light looks
she is our ozone layer
preventing
us from ripping apart
our
delicate
alveoli sacs
i am her wrinkly moon man
10/29/20
"Nightmare"
Another nightmare
In the galaxy a tear
Matter devoured, not a single molecule spared
Toward such an event, could we prepare?
Many stare
Many compare
Everywhere
And anywhere
Everyone will experience their fair share of scares
Something that's been put into the air
Life can't always be fair
Of this, it'd do you well to be aware
I used to, but I'm finding it harder to care
Of such trivial affairs
Nearly everywhere
Many partake in prayer
Just about anywhere
Many went through despair
They either gave up or were able to bear
Some got the electric chair
Who knows, if it lead to a set of ascending or descending stairs
Brand new or in dire need of repairs
Far too many trinkets and wares
People going solo, in a group or pairs
On a planet full of mystery
Don't expect gifts for free
Got to work towards victory
And stay away from such misery
I apologise for the very dark theme I was reading how prisoners on death row have a choice of how they will be killed... it is a very emotive subject
Condemned to death, now you must die…
lethal injection or electric chair?
You confessed your guilt and didn’t lie
condemned to death, now you must die
as you strangled her, but wouldn’t say why -
of the death penalty you were aware
Condemned to death, now you must die …
lethal injection or electric chair?
Pick-A-Title, Vol 24 - Triolet - Poetry Contest
3 Hobson’s Choice
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
10/20/20
Brother Joseph
Brother Joseph loved whiskey to drink
Never washed and oh boy did he stink
Monks stuck him in a tub
All took turns him to rub
He's no longer called the missing link.
Old Sparky
A cruel robber who hailed from zaire
Shot some people cos he didn't care
Then his gun jammed
Said I'll be damned
Now he's sat in the electric chair .
The Race
Snail Sammy he entered the race
Hare Harry said "you're a disgrace"
Harry stopped for a break
Sammy did overtake
Now Harry's got egg on his face.
Bing Yang
A brazen conman Bing Yang from Beijing
Conned a widow out of her diamond ring
Her folks were appalled
The police were called
Who caught Bing Yang when they set up a'sting'.
Hateful Kid
A hateful kid loved to make the girls scream
Put spiders and dead flies in their ice cream
So they got their own back
Tied him up in a sack
And they threw him head first into a stream.
Written 3rd July 2019.
HORIZONTAL
AND VERTICAL
WHICH IS REAL?
HUMAN TO HUMAN
HUMAN TO CREATOR
ONE BEAM IS SHORTER
LIKE A NOOSE
LIKE AN ELECTRIC CHAIR
ETERNITY FROM DESPAIR
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