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Monthly Archives: April 2017

When Country Was Western

22 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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country and western, drunk, johnny walker, music, stardom, whiskey

My name is Stanley Robinson.

But you might know me by my stage name ‘Swamp Dog’ Robinson.

I had a few minor hits back in the sixties

Everybody told me that i should of made it to the top.

But i didn’t quite make it.

My name is ‘Swamp Dog’ Robinson.

And this is my story.

I was born July 28 1947 in a mean little town.

Not all that far away from Nashville Tennesse

A mean little town where everybody did it tough.

My mother was the head of the house because dad was injured in the war.

She did all that she could to keep the wolves from the door.

We didn’t have any money so we lived with grandpa at his house.

And sometimes he would entertain us by playing his guitar and singing along.

He told that what he was playing was called country and western.

But my mama called it the blues.

I didn’t care what it was called.

I just loved the sound of that guitar and grandpa’s voice

I knew then and there that playing country and western was my career of choice.

I used to sneak into grandpa’s room and fool around with his guitar.

And dream about moving to Nashville and becoming the latest new sensation.

Having girls throwing themselves at my feet.

My songs would be played on all of the radio stations.

I will become inducted in the country and western hall of fame.

And everyone on Earth will scream and know my name.

One night grandpa caught me messing with his guitar.

And he offered to show me how to play.

I quickly learnt all of the basic chords i just couldn’t get enough.

Me and my grandpa were hanging tough.

I practised everyday until my fingers would bleed.

That guitar meant the world to me.

Except of course for mama papa and grandpa to.

But that goes without saying.

I just wanted the world to hear me playing.

For my fifteenth birthday i was given my very own second hand guitar.

And it soon became my pride and joy.

I knew that money was tight and that mama and papa were struggling.

So i gave them a kiss and a hug of thanks.

I loved to watch my fingers move up and down the fret.

I thought to myself ‘ You haven’t heard nothing yet’

I took my guitar to school so i could practise every chance i got.

One day a teacher heard me playing and asked if i wanted to play in the

school band?

I just shrugged my shoulders ‘sure’ but inside my stomach was doing cartwheels.

I was boarding the train of with silver wheels.

So i joined the band and after a week of practise we were ready to play our first show.

But at the last minute the singer got cold feet and quit on the spot.

The teacher started to panic and asked if any of us could sing?

I put my hand up thinking ‘How hard could it be?’

That is when i discovered that i had a voice.

So now i was playing guitar and singing lead.

Unfortunately that is when my ego started to feed.

The school band was good,but i knew that i was better than the others

It was good to play to my family and friends.

But i wanted to play to the masses.

A friend told me about a club that held a talent quest every Thursday night.

So i racked up the courage and went to this seedy little joint

And waited for my chance at the end of the line.

I knew that this was a great opportunity to shine.

When my time came i walked onto the stage as nervous as a kitten.

But i soon turned into a lion and began to roar.

I gave it everything that i had and a whole lot more

I just let the music do the talking

I was only supposed to play one song ,but i ended up doing three.

The noise from the crowd got the adrenaline pumping.

And my ego got a boost that it didn’t really need.

I was floating up on cloud number nine.

But as you know not every cloud has a silver lining.

Sometimes they can turn heavy and black.

I was now walking a very dangerous path.

And there was no going back.

After my set i waited around for the other contestants to do their thing.

And even though i was underage a local bought me a whiskey to calm my nerves.

It filled my stomach with fire but it settled me down.

I licked my lips i really could do with another taste of that soothing liquor.

Looking back now i should have walked out of that door without looking back.

Already my world was beginning to crack.

I won the competition with first prize being a chance to record a demo tape.

That would be sent off to all of the record companies.

An opportunity to hit the big time.

I could tour the world with the likes of Cash.Kristofferson,Rodgers and Cline.

The cream of the crop.

I was too busy living on the edge of tomorrow.

So i didn;t hear the penny drop.

When i arrived at the recording studio first thing i did was visit the bathroom.

The day before i had bought myself a hip flask and filled with Johnny Walker Red.

I sat there and had myself a tiny little sip.

Barely enough to wet my lip.

But it was enough.

I got through the session with flying colours.

A couple of my own songs were put down plus a Jimmy Reeve cover.

I layed them all down in one take i was played like a man possessed.

Feeling rather pleased with myself i snuck off to have another drink.

A toast to my success.

I raised the flask up and ‘God bless’.

My demo was sent off to all of the record labels.

And i was expecting an avalanche of replies.

Instead all i heard was the roaring sound of silence

To say i was disappointed is an under statement in the extreme

But i was still in my teens so all i could do was play the local bars.

I played and played for years waiting for my break.

My drinking was getting out of hand

But it was a crutch that i needed to keep me from going insane

It also helped me to forget my memories and forget the pain.

Than one night i was playing at a local dive trying to make a living.

But still dreaming the dream.

After my set i was sitting at the bar having another glass of temptation

When i felt a tap on my shoulder,i turned to see a guy in a suit.

He told me that he had enjoyed my show and had listened to my old demo.

Would i be interested in a recording contract with Warner Bros ?

He told me that he would drive me to Nashville and i could sign the deal

My dream once again was becoming very real.

After a month of rehearsal and a whole lot of drinking

I entered the studio to record my first album

But the recording session didn’t go so well.

A bottle of whiskey was in my left hand and the microphone in my right.

So we had to play take after take.

I could tell that the session musicians were getting pissed off with my

unprofessional attitude.

But i didn’t really give a shit.

I was a star on the rise it is now my time to shine.

I celebrated with a bottle of whiskey and few glasses of wine.

To my and the record companies surprise the album was a hit.

In the first week it sold over 100.000 copies

And after a month my album was sitting at number 10 on the country and western

chart.

My management quickly arranged an American tour to cash in on the success.

I did interviews after interviews with the music press getting my name out there.

There was also talk of touring Europe Australia and Japan.

I am living the dream i am the main man.

The first show was in Cleveland supporting Waylon Jennings.

We are off to a flying start.

My backing band is red hot and we blow Waylon off the stage.

We travelled from town to town city to city criss crossing the whole country

The headlines were calling me the new kid in town the latest sensation.

I was quickly becoming the toast of the nation.

The tour was a great success until we reached Atlanta Georgia

I walked out onto the stage with my guitar and a bottle of Johnny Walker.

But midway through my set i started to forget the lyrics and i hit a few wrong notes,

The crowd was getting restless and had started to boo.

I gave them the finger and screamed out ‘fuck you’

I was kicked off the tour.

And i went back home with my tail between my legs.

My manager told me that my drinking was really starting ti get out of hand.

And i agreed that i needed to tone it down.

So we came to a compromise,i could have a glass or two before the show.

But nothing while i was onstage.

But inside my alcohol fuelled brain was starting to rage.

After a week of recovery i was reinstated onto the tour.

On the condition that i clean up my act and behave.

I wholeheartedly agreed to their wishes.

My antics at the Atlanta show had made the headlines  and gave my record sales

a boost.

But i knew that if i didn;t behave myself my career would be over.

I would have a shot or two and play and sing with soul.

But i was teetering on the edge of a great big hole.

For the next few years i kept a low profile.

Building up my fan base and keeping out of trouble.

My album sales were steady and a had a couple of hits in my home town.

But don;t think that i have turned into an angel.

Because every now and then i will go on a bender.

That will sometimes last a whole week.

My throat was so hoarse i could barely speak.

Than my manager calls with some good news.

Willie Nelson is coming to town and he wants me to be his support act.

Willie at the time was one of the biggest stars on the planet.

So this is a big chance to kick start my career.

So i will have to be on my best behaviour.

This is the last throw of the dice.

I will never get another shot at the big time if i keep fucking up.

I have to stop drinking from the Devils cup.

After two weeks of rehearsal i am ready for the show.

But instead of the usual two shots i down half the bottle to settle my nerves.

My manager tells that the concert is being filmed for a TV special.

So i sneak a bottle onstage and hide it behind the amps.

Just for a little insurance you have to understand.

I walk onstage the stage with my great little band.

I get a good ovation when i finish the first song.

But by the fifth song my throat is getting dry,

So during the guitar solo i go behind the amps for a little taste.

A voice in my head is screaming  ‘What a fucking waste’

After a few more visits to the bottle i just say fuck it and take the bottle back with me

and put it near my microphone stand.

Like a security blanket.

I have a long slug before i start my final song.

The bottle is almost empty.

My brain is a little blurry and i struggle to remember the words.

The last thing i remember is hearing the jeers and heckles from the crowd.

I start to stumble and fall right off the stage.

My career is over i have reached the final page.

I am now 55 years old and i am still waiting for that phone call that will never come.

I still play guitar and sing country and western.

Or country as they call it now.

I had my chance at stardom but i drank it all away.

My demons are with me and they are here to stay.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END.

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Murder Of Crowes

08 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

attack, black crowes, blood, murder, revenge

‘Jesus Christ,is that freaking clock going backwards?’

It is the last day before the summer break.

And the clock in the classroom decides to mess with my mind.

Has time stood still?

Has the second hand frozen in place?

Finally the school bell rings and i race outside.

Summer vacation is my favourite time of the year.

Six weeks without homework and teachers.

Six weeks of sunshine and fun.

Three of my friends are waiting for me by the school gate

Kyle Coogan,Brian Jones,Dennis Steele and i have been friends since

kindergarten.

But next year we will be going to different high schools.

So this could be the last break that we spend together.

My name is Charlie Osborne and i am twelve years old.

I am almost a teenager but not quite.

If this is to be the last summer break i get to be with my friends.

I want to make the most of it.

My friends and i are just like any boys our age.

We like to go swimming,fishing and camping out in our backyards.

Sometimes we will collect tadpoles and pick blackberries.

All the normal boy stuff.

Today we decide to explore the bush land behind Kyles place.

Sometimes we will come across a kangaroo chewing on grass.

Or a goanna climbing up a tree.

But this time we see something different.

A black crow is on the ground running around in circles.

It has a broken wing and cant fly away.

I tell Kyle to go back to his house and get a box.

Maybe we can look after this bird until its wing heals.

Kyle looks at me like i am crazy ‘Fuck that it is only a crow’

He bends down and picks up a rock and throws it at the crow with all of

his might.

He misses but Brian and Dennis also start to throw rocks and stones at the crow.

Rock after rock hit the target and the bird falls to the ground.

They keep on throwing until that bird is dead.

I cant believe that my friends just did that.

But they are laughing and giving each other high fives.

I cant do anything for the bird so we run towards a water hole.

Up in the trees about twenty black crowes watch as the boys run away.

They fly from tree to tree following the boys as they wander down the

dirt track.

The crowes all have two things in common,they are all black.

And they all have murder in their eyes.

After a few hours of  swimming and skylarking around we decide to head home for something to eat.

All except Kyle who decides to stay behind and do some more swimming.

We wave to Kyle and tell him that we will be back in about an hour.

Kyle strips down to his underwear  and dives in head first.

As he swims and splashes around he doesn’t notice the crow’es gathering in the trees

above.

He continues to swim for a while but soon becomes bored.

So he decides to rest up and wait for his friends.

He spreads out his towel and starts to bake in the sun.

One of the crow’es lands on a branch just above Kyle and sizes up the situation.

Than without warning in lands on Kyle’s face with talons extended.

Kyle screams out in panic and tries to fight back but he has been taken by surprise

and he soon tires.

And before he knows what is happening both of his eyes are plucked out and swallowed

down whole.

By now Kyle is hysterical as the crow attacks his face.

Soon he goes into shock and offers little resistance.

The other crow’es descend onto Kyle and start to strip the flesh from his body.

Kyle’s body shudders as the black birds have their way.

They peck and claw at his body until he is nothing but a pile of bloody bones.

After lunch i meet up with Brian and Dennis and we make our way back to the water hole.

When we arrive Kyle is nowhere in sight.

All we see is his beach towel and his baseball cap floating in the water.

Beside the cap floats a single black feather.

We run home as fast as we can to get help.

My mother calls the police and we wait for them to arrive.

The area around the water hole is cordoned off and the police send for divers to

search the bottom.

And soon Kyle’s body is brought to the surface.

There is a gasp from the onlookers when the body comes into view.

His mother tries to run forward but is held back.

How has Kyle’s body been reduced to a skeleton in such a short time?

Was he attacked by a pack of wild dogs or is there a madman on the loose?

The police hold a police conference and tell everybody that until an autopsy

is performed.

It is best for people to be on their guard and for all of the neighbourhood kids

to stay indoors.

Brian Jones is home bored out of his mind.

It has been a week since Kyle was killed by who knows what

Brian feels sorry for Kyle,but it is summer break he needs to go out and play.

So he decides to sneak out and see how Dennis and Charlie are going.

He climbs out of his bedroom window under the cover of darkness.

Dennis only lives a few blocks away,so he will hang out for a while.

His parents want even know that he is gone.

As he walks under a street light he senses movement over his left shoulder.

When he looks back something slams into his face.

He staggers around in bewilderment with a bloodied nose and cut cheek.

Another black crow swoops down and attacks Brians face and neck.

Brian shit;s his pants and runs away in shock.

Straight into the path of a semi trailer.

The driver cant bake in time and he hits Brian full on.

The truck skids to a stop a hundred metres down the road.

The driver jumps out and races back hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

And the worst it is,

He cant believe that what he is seeing was once a living human being.

He looks away and vomits up his dinner completely covering a single black feather.

Dennis Steele is in his room crying into his pillow.

First Kyle was killed and now Brian.

Why are his friends dying?

It is school holidays we should all be having fun not cooped up inside.

When will his parents let him outside to fucking play?

Dennis knows that he has just  said the F word out loud but he doesn’t care anymore.

All he wants is for things to go back to normal again.

So that everybody can start to feel safe again.

Everything is getting to be too much for Dennis.

His nerves are shot to hell and his stomach is playing up.

And for the fifth time that day he makes his way to the bathroom.

He pulls down is pants and takes a seat waiting for nature to take its course.

When he hears a noise coming from the water below.

He looks down between his legs and sees a black bird heading for his scrotum.

He tries to jump up but he isnt quite fast enough.

The crow pecks open his ball bag and his testicles disappear down the throat of that

crazes bird.

His screams could be heard from twenty five miles away.

Inch by inch Dennis is pulled down into the toilet bowl.

His bones creak and crack and finally break as he is swallowed down into the sewers.

As Dennis enters his watery grave his parents are frantically trying to kick down the bathroom door.

And when they finally do all they see is a broken toilet

.And a single black feather.

Holt fucking Christ on a crutch.

I cant believe it.

First Kyle than Brain and now Dennis.

Who or what is killing all of my friends?

As i sit with my parents watching some TV i remember the cops telling them about finding a black feather in Dennis bathroom.

My mind goes back to that day at the water hole.

Surely it cant be about that?

Do crow’es have good memories like elephants?

They  say that elephants never forget but what about crow’es?

I tell my parents that i need to go for ride.

They try to stop me but i am gone in a flash.

I jump on my bike and race back to that waterhole.

And i soon arrive at the spot where we stoned that crow to death.

So i am so nervous my goose pimples have dimples.

I sit down in the middle of the track and wait.

All of the leaves in the trees shake and fall to the ground.

Soon i am surrounded by a green carpet and a thousand naked branches.

Is the devil coming to take me away?

Or are the black crow’es on the warpath?

I am guessing the latter but i don’t really know.

Soon the sky is full of black wings and an eerie silence.

Then twenty black birds land at my feet and start to do a war dance.

Or maybe it is a rain dance? One can only hope.

But the sky i clear there isn’t a cloud in sight.

So war it is.

One of the crow’es rushes in and attacks my left foot

I look at that crow as it grabs my little toe and tears it from my body.

And it flies back up into the trees with my twinkie in its mouth.

As i am distracted another bird attacks my other foot and another toe is swallowed

down.

It looks like these crow’es are going to kill me very slowly

Toe by toe bit by bit.

The remaining crow’es continue to walk around me in a clockwise direction.

What body part will they attack next?

‘God don’t let it be my eyes i don;t want to be blind’

And Jesus don;t let it be my willy.

I haven;t had sex yet please don;t let me die a virgin.

While i have been sitting in the dirt thinking another bird has flown in and taken a chunk out of my ear.

I don’t dare to fight back because i know that if i do the birds will go into a feeding frenzy.

So i cover my nuts with both hands put my head down and pray.

And through the pain i try to relax and hopefully the crow’es will fly away and leave me

in peace.

And not pieces.

But no such luck.

Another chunk is taken from my body

Blood is pouring from deep groves and starts to pool on the ground.

I pray to God and whisper goodbye to mum and dad.

But you know what ? Fuck that.

I jump up and scream at those fucking birds.

I tell them that i am sorry that their friend died but enough is enough.

I close my eyes and count to fifty and when i open them the birds are gone.

I turn back and start to limp home.

Than the crow’es are back.

These freaking birds swoop down in attack mode.

And they attack my head with venegance tearing out my hair strand by strand.

Holy fucking crap i am getting scalped by a bunch of birds.

Or should i say a murder of crow’es.

I cant see a thing as my blood streams down my face.

I wait for another attack but it doesn’t come.

I wipe my face with my shirt and scan my surroundings.

There isn’t any sign of the crow’es.

I pick my self up ans wander towards home.

Than a crow lands on the track just in front of me

He is obviously the ring leader.

With his chest puffed out he struts around like a peacock.

I look down at that black bird and once again i apologise for my behaviour

I will never ever harm another crow as long as i live.

The crow looks up at me with disdain.

Than he flies up and lands on my shoulder he walks over to my bleeding ear

and whispers ‘Don;t forget i know where you live’

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation so i can finally become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END.

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