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Ronald W. Hull

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Swampy Horror
by Ronald W. Hull → (All Poetry by Ronald W. Hull)
Saturday, October 17, 2015    Rated "PG" by the Author.
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The video below shows me being trapped in my van
about 40 yards deep in a swampy woods off Interstate
10 near Orange Texas, Tuesday, October 6, 2015.
It was about 15 minutes before firemen came and cut
the underbrush so that my van with me in it could be
winched out by a wrecker.

The man who trained me to drive my electronic driving
system told me that someone with a system like mine in
1998 lost control and drove off the road into a field.
He couldn't get the EZ-Lock that held the wheelchair to
the floor to unlock. When someone found him three days
later, he had died of hypothermia. I often worried about
having the power go out on the van and being unable to
open the doors or windows in the Texas heat. I have a
manual release on the EZ-Lock, but it was useless in the
downward facing position I was in the swamp.

My accident and that poor man's death by exposure
prompted this little Halloween poem.

2006 Ford Windstar lowered floor van after being pulled out of the swamp © Beh Nguyen


Poem Artwork

 

Swampy Horror


Was cruising down the highway,
listening to a ghoulish song,
when a large rock flew up, hit,
everything went terribly wrong.

Startled by cracked glass,
took a sharp right turn,
hurtled towards the brush,
into a leafy butter churn.

Punched a hole in the greenery,
with a thumpity, thump, bump,
with a loud crack at the end,
van in a downward slump.

Surprised to be alive and unhurt,
foot jammed on the brake,
turned off that awful song,
mind did a double take.

The day was getting old,
and there was no way out.
Damned EZ- Lock jammed,
with a creeping fear of doubt.

No way to know how far wooded in,
turned off the engine to silence again.
Cracked the windows to get some air,
listened for sounds of rescue anywhere.

Twilight settled in and shadows crept deep,
sounds of bird twitters died with their sleep.
Knew that night would have a long run.
Water seeping in only added to the fun.

Dusk turned to darkness profound,
air grew chillier and fog rolled round.
Booming of alligators rose up in the mist,
one was so close, heard when it hissed.

Spiders crawled silently around in the dark,
could feel them crawling with many eyes to see.
While mosquitoes rose up on a lark,
and supped from blood mercilessly.

Snakes slithered by with a slight ripple,
it was no time to be locked in as a cripple.
An owl kept hooting in the distance,
mind took a path of silent resistance.

Hunger and thirst took its toll,
sleep came uninvited, dreams did roll.
Woke up from one in a terrible fright,
only thing there was the deep dark night.

Cold crept in, a silent killer,
shivered and shook,
but couldn't shake the quiver,
the helpless feeling of awful dread,
the feeling of being,
well over one's head.

Night wore on like horrors unfold,
nightmares and pain came and went,
dawn broke just when thoughts told,
that life and limb were just about spent.

Another long day of lonely thought,
of hunger and thirst of what and what ought.
Of what could have been and what it was,
no escape, no relief from this torturous clause.

The sun went down into another long night,
a night filled with nightmares and constant fright,
living through was not a question anymore,
the Grim Reaper was coming to settle the score.

Into delirium and unconsciousness fear,
the night sounds grew deafening to the ear.
Throat swollen shut and eyes would not tear,
knew that the end was nearer than near.

With the dawn's light bright dew drops appeared,
the Grim Reaper came with a sound so feared.
Chainsaws ripping like in the Texas movie,
blurry thoughts turned to horror of hell's fury.

A quiet voice said, "We're here to get you out."
One must admit, through all that,
still, there was doubt.

Copyright 2015 © Ronald W. Hull

10/15/15

Aftermath of the Swamp Ordeal Video

 


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 Reviews of "Swampy Horror"
Reviewed by Michael Gibbs
Reviewed on November 8, 2015
An all too real horror. Led here by the title, which is not unlike my Swamp of Sorrow. A good write wherein any reader can see himself.

Reviewed by Kathleen McDonald
Reviewed on November 1, 2015
That was a terrible thing to have to live through.

hug
Kathy

Reviewed by Mary Patterson
Reviewed on November 1, 2015
What a gripping story! I must have been a terrible ordeal to go through!. I'm glad the good Lord was by your side and they found you!....M

Reviewed by Regis Auffray
Reviewed on October 24, 2015
That is quite the tale, Ron; made much more gripping since it is a true story. I am glad you made it out. Love and peace,

Regis

Reviewed by Mr. Ed
Reviewed on October 23, 2015
Very Glad To Hear That The Grim Reaper Didn't Get You.

Reviewed by Charles Neff
Reviewed on October 22, 2015
Ron, It took me a while to get to this poem, I, so immeresed in things that I defined as more important. Wrong. And then I read it. First,in happiness that you got through the experience. Then in wonder. We've never met and that chances are that I simply would not have heard from you. There would have been a void, but I would not have known why. What a loss that would have been, not just for you, but for all those of you've taught about what it is to be human.. But instead, I have your poem, burned into some place deep within me.
It
Swampy Horror is a true masterpiece, because honesty, grit, terror and helplessness have never been more immediately captured in words, at least in my experience. It is for much more than Halloween. Only one thing transcends your calm - the fact that, without comment on anything else, you found the inner strength, and I would guess peace,soon thereafter to write me helpful advise about a projected blog. Your words have taught me and I don't even know yet how much. They are still teaching.
Best in a life full of continuation,
CHarlie

Reviewed by Michael Jones
Reviewed on October 21, 2015
Hi Ron, what an experience! God's mercy and your resolve broke you free! Our hero must continue to write and give people reasons to live and investigate. Brother Ron, that poem could also be a short story? Thanks for poetry and insight. Peace!!!

Reviewed by Duke LaRance
Reviewed on October 21, 2015
Sorry, Ed, Ron is the cham-peen....

Reviewed by Uriah Fields
Reviewed on October 19, 2015
Ron, your poem "Swampy Horror" brings tears and joy to my heart. What a horrific experience, all because a rock hit your windshield and made more uncertain and tragic because the EZ-Lock jammed on your vehicle. You are fortunate to have been discovered by a rescuer, and found to be alive, although not immediately and not before you had much anguish, but was not defeated. Apparently your difficult experiences across the years prepared you to survive this ordeal. Yes, miracles do happen. You have just experienced one. This experience is another chapter in your autobiography "Hanging by a Thread." I know you will continue to sing because music has the efficacy to heal and lift one's spirit to that place where there is joy.
In Mutuality
Uriah J. Fields

Reviewed by D. Vegas (Reader)
Reviewed on October 18, 2015
Scary Ron, bet your heart was outside your chest!

Always,
Deborah

Reviewed on October 18, 2015
I can imagine the horror that you have gone through. I'm really glad that you are unharmed in anyway. God and your angels were working hard to make sure you were not harmed. That must have been quite an experience for you. Glad you are still with us!

Sandie

Reviewed by Ed Matlack
Reviewed on October 18, 2015
All because of one rock & a cracked windshield,
You ran out into a marshy field,
Alligators wouldn't eat you, ur meat too tough,
This kinda thing can do nothing but make you more than usual, gruff...
-e-

Reviewed by Eva Pasco
Reviewed on October 17, 2015
Horrific! You capture the magnitude of your situation with spine-chilling imagery and rhyme.

Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com
Reviewed on October 17, 2015
Taking a near disaster experience and turning it into a smiling-horror poem is indeed out of the ordinary. With so many same-ol' Halloween writing efforts out there, you are to be commended. Write on. Now, how about a Tim Burtonish, Nightmare before Christmas rendering of maybe a ghoulish Santa. Okay, so I'm not a fan of Christmas tradition, save putting out the cookies and Bourbon for making him jolly, eh?

Reviewed by Michael Schafer
Reviewed on October 17, 2015
This Halloween tale,
was full of gloom and doom.
It's time to trade that old van in,
For a new flying broom.


Michael D.

Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger
Reviewed on October 17, 2015
~Ron~
Sure glad your ok my friend. Your poem gives me the chills.

Lady Mary Ann

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
Reviewed on October 17, 2015
My, my Ron, thank goodness you didn't have too suffer the long, agonizing wait that this poem describes. Grateful everyone survived your crash without even a broken bone. It could have been much, much worse.

Reviewed on October 17, 2015
Thank goodness you are all O.K.. Chilling poem, indeed!!!!

Love ya!

Jane


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