RIP Sam Shepard…

samA great American Artist 

“There are no words to describe how I feel, we have lost another great one!”

 

 

ELIZABETH ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE BOOKS AT AMAZON.COM AND BARNES & NOBEL.COM

FLYING WITH BROKEN WINGS

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https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018149&sr=1-1&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

BEYOND THE VOICES

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https://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Voices-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500426709/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018788&sr=1-3&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

HONEYSUCKLE MEMORIES

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https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree/dp/150029070X/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-5&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

REFLECTIONS OF POETRY

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https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1500168645/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-6&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

ECHOING IMAGES

66th

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-7&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

ASTERIAL THOUGHTS

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https://www.amazon.com/Asterial-Thoughts-Journey-into-Thought/dp/1540862356/ref=sr_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-8&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

RUTTED ROADS

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https://www.amazon.com/Rutted-Roads-Collections-Ann-Johnson-Murphree/dp/1532909365/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-9&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

SACHET OF POETRY

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https://www.amazon.com/Sachet-Poetry-Adoration-Aspirations-Asylums/dp/1500483354/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499018932&sr=1-10&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

MY JOURNEY INTO ART

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https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Johnson-Murphree-2014-07-28/dp/B019NRG4YG/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1499019157&sr=1-14&keywords=ann+johnson-murphree

 

Thanks for reading and in advance thank you for your comments.  EAJM

 

 Painting below:  Acrylic and Watercolor created December, 2010-The First Christmas without Charlotte…

19.charlotte winter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Second Anniversary…

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Today is the second anniversary of my blog Confessional Fiction, Free Verse Poetry, Prose, Non-Fiction and Art. During the last two years, I have been fortunate enough to acquire 1363 followers, 680 Twitter followers from the blog and 355,885 hits. 

All of this is because of “you” my followers, and those who drop by just to browse.  You have supported and help me get through serious health problems and the continued grief of a lost love one; this is because of you. 

Then, there are those of you who have become “Cyber” friends, and to these friends…you held me up when I was down and you walked beside me in spirit as I struggle to become healthy, write and create, a special thank you goes to you and you know who you are.

Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree   

27.Night Dragonfly

NIGHT ANGELS

Rachael – A 100 Word Story

 

When Rachael discovered she was pregnant, she thought of suicide; married to a poor sharecropper she did not want another mouth to feed.  She felt anger, she feared God’s wrath, but would take that chance.  She did not want the burden; she was determined to kill the unwanted seed.  The cries coming from the bed told Rachael that the baby was alive; there was nothing in her heart but hate as she placed her hand over the baby’s mouth and nose, to suffocate life from the tiny body; its journey on earth was cut short.  Rachael rolled over and smiled. 

Rachael is a fictional character in the “100 Word Story” however, hundreds of children are killed each year; mothers are most likely to kill newborns because of mental illness such as postpartum depression or because they cannot handle the stress of caring for a baby.   The research on this subject reveals that the day a child is born is the day a child is most likely to be killed by a parent.  Mothers who kill tend to do on impulse and then there are those that just do not want a child.

Psychiatrists say parents who kill their children tend to fit one of five categories:

  • A parent suffering a psychotic break.
  • A parent who thinks he is killing out of altruism because he doesn’t want a child to grow up without him.
  • A parent acting out of revenge against a spouse or partner.
  • A parent who kills an unwanted child.
  • A parent who kills from neglect or by recklessness

If you are aware of someone that possibly comes under any of these categories; reach out to them and offer your help.

 

Trankil Death – A 100 Word Story

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Trankil Death

At dawn, Ruby Waters life light went out, in the dark her children cried; a candle glowed against the rustic rough boards of the shanty shadowing the souls left behind.  Laid to rest quickly in the Louisiana heat; the moon cast a glow on her shallow grave.  The children’s tears burn hot upon their dirt-streaked faces as relatives who heard the shots took them away.  Drunken Gat Waters had shot his emancipated wife because she was pregnant again then yelled, “Now dat’ are two less mouths to feed”.  They were swamp folk no one outside Bayou Gauche would ever know.

 

 

©2016.trankildeath.annjohnsonmurphree
NOTE: Visit author’s book page or ann Johnson-murphree at Amazon.com

 

 

 

Mississippi River Nightmare…

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 Mississippi River

 

Mississippi River Nightmare…

Uncovered and wrinkled is my sack, a gigantic hump on my

Back.  Frost clutches to these old rags, my body is covered

With burlap bags.

My flesh like ashes my face tinged with blue, my chest

Rattles, my lungs sucking in morning dew.  I have

Traveled on the railroad back and forth, does not matter

Where, south or north.

I sometimes walk city streets when they are dark and dead,

The side of a railroad is where I make my bed.  I eat my

Food from old tin cans, I will steal candy from little hands.

I scream for the warmth I see coming from the riverbank,

A bright fire, from this cold I do tire.  I think that I am

Burning, I smell smoldering hair, my arms are thrashing in the

Air.

I see evil darkness, what is this madness, I feel spiritually ill,

Then, I gasp in horror when I realize that I am dead.  Here on

This cold and damp riverbank someone has severed my head.

 

 

©2016.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree