A Lifetime Sentence in a Wheelchair

Hell for those 

Reliquary

 

Dear Mrs C.

First, before you condemn me to Hell and for your information, I've been battling Cancer for almost 3 years; malignant nasal cancer, they removed 3 tumors from my optic nerve, bolted me down like Frankenstein, and zapped me 33 times with radiation, and yes, I rang that stupid bell. Unfortunately, the kind that returns they tell me. Yet, through it all, I never asked for any help; for one, most of my family are in wheelchairs from MS-2 sisters & 2 brothers. I don't want any pity!! From anyone! 

I don't want a country telling me who to pray to; there are too many steeples and not enough truth. I don't want a country where there are only WHITE people; that's White supremacy! I don't want a Dictator like Korea or Russia, where 99% of the money goes to the billionaires! I don't want a stupid neighbor who refuses Education and, in return, burns a wooden cross. I want Healthcare for everyone, no exceptions. I want people to love their neighbors and keep their judgments of others to themselves. I want every child fed; why do they deserve to starve while in poverty? This is 2026, where any of the billionaires could eradicate hunger and homelessness overnight but refuse; yet, all they want is a Plutocracy or Oligarchy. They love to inflict their Kshatriya hatred! They refuse to yield from their power. 

I see the decay of Democracy in this country from a party(GOP) that will not accept the winning outcome of any Election, all because they worship a pedophile, Trump! Amazing that we never had that problem for over 250 years until Trump came along. A man who probably threatens them. Trump coddles up to dictators, worships them! He bows down to them. 

We are human beings! I still open doors for women, and I still believe we are all equal creatures. I still laugh like a child, I still care for my friends, and I still know right from wrong. 

I judge people by their actions. Then I draw from the well of reason why people hate one another and pretend they're a Christian. On and on…….

Take care; this is my very last comment to you. 

- John 

Reliquary 

The feign Camelot strides the golden calf
his thralldom spreads like plagues of death; 
toothless and mindless servants 
trawl in their viridity, 
spellbound in perfidious naivety 
they gather gold that gluts their king, 
imbecilic to their tribunal demise;
where idiots rush in kings send knights-errant
to pillage from those less fortunate 
and call it Democracy. 


- John Hardesty 

©️9/20/2019

The Bluegrass Tavern Chronicles(14)

 

                                                    Feather Welch 

Feather Welch was one in a million characters. He struggled with life like the rest of us yet he punished himself with unlimited draughts of Sterling. He handled the pain well, and the wall of laughter outside hid the tragedy within; he doused those horrible memories with endless mugs of Joe’s premium tap. 

Yes, Feather was a complicated and troubled man, who never complained out loud about his antithetical disturbed mind. He was quite comical and an intellectual who cursed the mundanity of chasing some philosophical muse. He rarely struggled with any conversation dealing with the fragile optics of death and life; he was a well-read man! 

 Feather was a flaneur hawk, who observed every conversation with exceptionalism. He rarely overstepped his stoic mannerism; he often asked if he could say a word or two, always polite. He and Joe spat at each other with contempt. They just went at each other all night at times, Feather never backed down, and Feather was a big man but a nice man, yet you could sense that he could fight if he was challenged. 

Little Yellow Bird

Little Yellow Bird 

 

The snow was very plentiful and crumbs were very few, As a weatherbeaten sparrow through a mansion window flew. Her eyes fell on a golden cage, a sweet love song she heard, Sung by a pet canary there, a handsome yellow bird! He said to her, "Miss Sparrow, I've been struck by Cupid's arrow! Will you share my cage with me?" She looked up at his castle, With its ribbon and its tassel, And in plaintive tones said she - "Goodbye little yellow bird, I'd gladly mate with you. I love you, little yellow bird, but I love my freedom too! So goodbye little yellow bird, I'd rather brave the cold On a leafless tree than a prisoner be, in a cage of gold!" (Goodbye little yellow bird, I'd gladly mate with you. I love you, little yellow bird, but I love my freedom too! So it's goodbye now little yellow bird, I'd rather brave the cold On a leafless tree than a prisoner be, in a beautiful cage of gold!) (Goodbye little yellow bird, I'd gladly mate with you. I love you, little yellow bird, but I love my freedom too! So goodbye) little yellow bird, I'd rather brave the cold On a leafless tree than a prisoner be, in a cage of gold! Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye little yellow bird!

The song "Little Yellow Bird" (also known as "Good-bye, Little Yellow Bird") was written and composed in 1903 by Charles William Murphy (lyrics) and William Hargreaves (music). [1]

Hardesty Humor

 

I'm so damn old, I was the blacksmith that forged Thor’s Hammer. 

The Blue Grass Tavern Chronicles(chapter 13)

                                                                    Donnie Bradley

  Donnie Bradley was one of the greatest buddies anyone could ask for. I met Donnie when I was very young, Rusty Bradley was my closest friend from grade school through high school and I met Donnie through Rusty, they were cousins. 

     Donnie was handsome, and the gals flocked to him like living birdseed. Yet Donnie never flaunted his unique prowess or paraded his good looks and charm out at Joe’s Tavern; for one, not too many gals entered Joe’s place, and for two, many patrons were happily married like Donnie. Donnie never cheated on his wife either. Donnie just liked coming out at Joe’s and having a good ol' mug of brew. 

     On those glorious Friday nights, when Donnie walked through that back door, you were in for a treat. He always had a great joke, and he was a master at telling it. Gary Walker seemed to always accompany Donnie; you rarely saw one without the other. They were lifetime buddies. We all loved our Friday nights, we huddled around Joe’s big bar like Jesus’ apostles around Jesus’ Last Supper. 

     Donnie avoided anything that displayed arrogance or grandeur; he abhorred posing for any cause that benefited the wealthy. Donnie was a simple man, not an impoverished person either. 

He was family-oriented and secure. Donnie was loved by all. 

     Donnie loved to play cards on a Friday night, we all did. Joe Lawrence even played a few hands before the crowd became an ambush. I had a heart flush once, and I raised and raised, and the only one who survived my raises was Donnie, I told him, I swear, I have a heart flush, and I'll show it to you, he had two 5s, & two 4s, and a 4 of clubs, a 4 of diamonds, and a 5 of hearts already on the table, and on the last card down he caught the last 5 in the deck. He smiled and I knew he got it. We laughed for hours. 

     Donnie seemed to be happy but many who entered the tavern weren't, that's why many patrons drank themselves into the abyss of misery. Donnie lost his son in a terrible car accident, he carried a heavy heart from then on, this eventually wrecked his marriage. He was seen quite often at Joe’s thereafter, Joe always had the cure and that was a mug of forgetfulness, even if it only lasted a few hours. Donnie had a rare disease, that he never brought up, and he died way before his time. He left this world with a broken heart; goddamn life is brutal. I loved Donnie like my own brother. 

  Looking back, this velagoric moment in time saddens me, watching your beloved friends pass through the final out door without telling them all how much your life improved with them in it. 

                                

CSN’s Cathedral

 

I bought this CSN album after my Dad committed suicide, and the song Cathedral played for me for the very first time, and clung to me most profoundly, and I almost had an out-of-body experience, smoking some great herb that I personally grew too, but, I was scared, and I realized, that I'm no more stronger or significant than an ant on a crumb of sugar, or a spider in a well-designed web.