Accidental Suicide

[Hawkman]

When you can’t refrain from loving
though you weary of the pain
and every day is torture
but there’s no-one there to blame,
then the shotgun’s eye is tempting
and the cartridge you retain,
may one day wind up venting
through your skull and addled brain.

But the only thought that stops you
from enjoying this escape
is the awful inconvenience
and dreadful mess it makes.
Perhaps someone would find you
well before your flesh dissolved,
(though by leaking through the floorboards
might your absence be resolved…)

But the odds are all against it
and you know that no-one cares,
then before you pull the trigger,
you just slip and fall down stairs.
With your head at some strange angle
on the bottom step you’ll lie -
without the sound of gunfire
to encourage hue and cry.

[hillwalker]

Very Kiplingesque - style (not content) -wise of course.

H

[firefangled]

A nice little dose of dark humor. Reminds me of Dorothy Parker's "Resume"

[Hawkman]

Thank you hill and fire: Actually, the only verse I'm completely happy with is the first one. as for dear Dottie, I think she included a few more options:

http://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/resume.html

Live and be well - H

[Jack of Hearts]

This poem is dark and leaves a funny taste, Hawk. Probably like English tea.


With your head at some srange angle...

There is an equal chance of this being a typo or a word that this reader doesn't know.

Coupled with your tiger poem, you seem to be reflecting upon mortality a lot these days... in a very technically sound way, at that.






J

[Hawkman]

Thank'ee Jack, it was indeed a typo... one should not tinker late at night without wearing one's glasses :D Most gratified you enjoyed it. Live and be well - H

[IceM]

I am reminded of my summer studying of blues and the formation of country in the Great Depression when reading this poem. It's as though a 12-string guitar plays an anacrusis right before the beginning of the poem, then Woody Guthrie sings the blues, your poem being his chorus.

It has such a bluesy feeling to it (although the content is more suited for a navy, if we're using colors as an indication of content). I did enjoy reading this nonetheless, even if it makes me want to reach for JoH's bottle of merlot.

[Hawkman]

I think I'd have chosen something a bit stronger than merlot - lol. Glad you enjoyed it though. I can see why you found it a bit bluesy too.

Live long and prosper - H

[DocHeart]

When you can’t refrain from loving
though you weary of the pain
and every day is torture
but there’s no-one there to blame,
then the shotgun’s eye is tempting
and the cartridge you retain,
may one day wind up venting
through your skull and addled brain.

But the only thought that stops you
from enjoying this escape
is the awful inconvenience
and dreadful mess it makes.
Perhaps someone would find you
well before your flesh dissolved,
(though by leaking through the floorboards
might your absence be resolved…)

But the odds are all against it
and you know that no-one cares,
then before you pull the trigger,
you just slip and fall down stairs.
With your head at some strange angle
on the bottom step you’ll lie -
without the sound of gunfire
to encourage hue and cry.


As my friend Jack pointed out, different views of death give you inspiration these days. Nothing wrong with that. Death is a fine muse.

In this, you handle the theme with a good dose of irony and subtle but discernible black humour. But more importantly, it's highly original as a concept. Contemplating suicide and dying falling down the stairs? I don't remember ever reading a poem about this before.

May I, respectfully, make a couple of comments on metre? If, unlike me, you are disciplined enough to go back to finished works and improve them, you could probably work on the lines I've made bold above.

But this hardly prevented me from enjoying the poem tremendously, and admiring the amount of work that has obviously gone into it. Thanks for sharing!

Best regards,
DH

[Hawkman]

Doc, I know what you're getting at but my metre isn't rigidly applied to the lines but rather to the sentences. This is so I don't leave prepositions or conjunctions at the end of a line, a practice I personally find an anathema. :D There are also gramatical considerations but I think If you heard it read aloud you'd understand that it scans pretty well.

Anyway, thanks very much for reading it and for your comments, especially on the originality :)

Live and be well - H

[AuntShecky]

Amusing little philosophical question in verse --
If it's suicide, then it's , by definition, intentional, and not an accident. On the other hand, if the victim initially intends to off himself and then changes his mind, yet by sheer chance dies anyway, is it still suicide? Or is it an
accident?

Sounds like a plot for an Alfred Hitchcock movie, if he were
still with us and not in the great McGuffin in the sky.

Re: the structure of your verse. The rhyme and meter are as precise as those of a nursery rhyme and underscores the
trivialization of your subject--which I do believe was absolutely intentional!

[Hawkman]

Dear Auntie, Thank you, as ever, for sparing my scribbles the compliment of your attention. Well, technically, as you point out, if he doesn't actually do the deed himself, whether he intends to or not, then it can't really be suicide. One can only surmise that a benevolent God took pity on him so he wouldn't damn his soul. However, one wonders how long he lay there before being missed, and how much longer it was before he was discovered.

I wouldn't want to trivialise the suicidal impulse, but like all things to do with death, the tendency is rather towards black humour in my warped mind. Probably a heritage of military service. I suspect my soul is damned already :devil: Anyway, karmically, I don't seem to be doing so well. :angelsad2:

Live long and proper - H