On The Foot Of Riber Hill, Matlock.
In the end,
there was only the going back to die.
He had left everything else behind,
his dull flat, his depts, his car,
his sponging children…
He just emptied his bank account
and got a train home.
Back to the old place he went,
back to the place where he was happiest,
back to die.
Next day they found an old man’s body
at the foot of Riber Hill.
They did not know who he was,
all he had on him were clothes, money,
and a smile on his dead face.
He had come back home to die,
to die where he was happiest,
below the cliffs of Matlock,
away from the smoke.
It was nearly a year before they found out
who he was,
a lonely retired old man
left behind when the world moved on
from his dying.
I think of him now,
the smile on his face;
and I long myself to go back home to die.
Back to the place where I was happiest,
On the foot of Riber Hill.
—
Terry Cuthbert.
(pic is of Riber Castle on Riber Hill)
Comments (42)
Note “The Smoke” = London.
very beautiful and so full of grief. I am not sure where I would want to die, but you have made me wonder about it.
that is sad. I actually both enjoy and enjoy to write sad poetry.
See, I haven’t forgotten about you.
love, lisa
aww sad. but i like it.
-sarah
hmmm made me even sadder…will have to cry on Ben’s shoulders
I am not sure i want to choose my place of death but if I could choose the way I left creation…Yes
I am still thinking of the sarah’s and eating a whole cow…
now for the cow…that is really sad…
Pineapple….I have written a poem
thank you muchly
that was sad, yet i was glad the old man got to die where he wanted. ~jacki
Oh golly, Terry, some of your poems make me want to turn the lights out, lie on the floor and rock back and forth. I hope that was the effect you were looking for. : )
Well, I’m crossing Riber Hill off my list of tourist attractions.
Hey Pineapple…you were right about that tense change in my poem today. I took your advice and made the edit. I was not insulted…that was some good constructive critisism….bordering on grammar lesson. Cheers ~jacki
Very touching poem and as I read I heard the song ‘Danny Boy’. It wasn’t on my stereo. Just in my head. Nice.
You need someone to fan the flames of the dying embers … and then … you will be consumed like never before!
That would be a nice way to die, if there is such a thing. I only wish I had a place like that.
Great, as usual.
yet another reason i hate living in america, theres no gothic places but churchs but even they have a short candle’s whisper to the ones abroad.and all this from just that pic, now to how your words have left me, the darkness of changing season in a mans wake finding that place where sarrow is gone, i love it.
Wow, that is how I want to die, with a smile on my face. And I know that the world will move on from my dieing and that is the way it is suppose to be.
dear LORD kill me please i want to have my just deserts first then kill me slay me first then kill me please magi
the picture of the castle looks foreboding with the gray clouds over the ramparts. I wonder if such a castle could ever look cheerful. We can’t take anything with us when we die. So I wonder why he emptied his bank account. But to smile is in the face of death–that is a tender mercy.
He mptied his account to stop the little buggers getting hold of his money and to pay for the resulting “John Doe” funeral.
I don’t know where I would want to go to die, if I had the choice. Do you??? Another thought-provoking poem.
very nice picture there… beautiful castle.
Wow, this was a very good piece. I love reading your stuff.
Can anybody really choose the place and time to die? I doubt it. But still the wish to do that is there in everybody. If the old man gets to that he is lucky. I am happy for the old man.
… this was beautiful … sad, yes … but there is a happiness in the sadness, and you have me thinking of where i am happiest … .. … thank you for your compliment, though i don’t know if “genius” is the word i would choose to describe me … “young poet with potential” maybe
“You would know the secret of Death~But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life”~Gibran
The beauty of your Poem is that a choice was made~and it was the most profound of choices~the irony is that he kept his secret, even unto the greatest secret~Death, itself. The lesson is that we have choices~always choices~in life~as in Death~if we realize our choices~What a Sacred Truth~
Peace~
oh, now I see…my brother may have thought of the same thing. When he died, he had a wallet full of money. No one stole it from his dead body as he lay under the bridge.
…oooh, that sent shivers up me…
in the end
the simplest things
ooo pineapple, blue i likey!! lol PropZ!!
Perhaps some suicides are a result of wanting to be in a chosen place to die. I knew instantly where I would choose. I was raised on a farm where the house was surrounded by hills and trees. From an early age, I loved to read. I would take an apple maybe and a book and sit under a tree on the hillside facing the next pasture over. There was a hump in the earth that expanded the length of the pasture which had in ages past been railroad tracks. When not reading, I would dream about a train with people in it on that track and they were waving at me on the hillside. I would like to end my live there.
sad and wonderful. Hopefully you are not planning the same thing for this weekend.
Choosing where you want to die…yes, I can understand the smile on his face. My dad wanted to die at home…and he did. My mom died in the hospital…not where she wanted to die. It is lucky to be able to get what you choose…or maybe it is fate
chess what an idea…
P-K4
your move
I salute you…for you most of all…you kept at me and you corrected tiny mistakes…you moved me with your words…moved me enought o find my own voice…
Thanks Terry!
yea this mite be like all weird but w/e.. u have my birthday! thats flippin awesome! cept.. ur like.. 40 yrs older than me butcha know
I’d hold you tightly if I saw you crying.
It’s not lame.
lisa
Do you always speak for the Sarahs? Do they approve? Anyway–thre head of Jesus is simply funny funny funny. shows some good knowledge of the scripture to do that. And DosMangoes–great nominee. The voting info is on the FC site. Meph
thanks for the comment on my poems…….i like yours as well except for the fact that i dont like poems as much if they dont rhyme and besides i am only 17, i think i am doing good with my writing, god only knows i have been obscurely published enough…….
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This is freaky as HELL…DO NOT CHEAT (You’ll kick yourself later)
>>>> > >
>>>> > > I was a little skeptical trying this, but if you follow
>>>> > >
>>>> > > the instructions to the “t” you’ll be
>>>> > >
>>>> > > surprised!!!! All
>>>> > >
>>>> > > of my answers were accurate. We’ll see tomorrow
>>>> > >
>>>> > > if the wish comes true. I’ll let you know.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > Take 3 minutes and try this…it will freak
>>>> > >
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>>>> > >
>>>> > > sent it to me said her wish came true
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 10 minutes after they read the mail.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > BUT NO CHEATING! This game has a funny/spooky
>>>> > >
>>>> > > outcome.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > Don’t read ahead…just do it in order! It
>>>> > >
>>>> > > takes about three minutes…it’s worth a try
>>>> > >
>>>> > > First..get a pen and paper. When you
>>>> > >
>>>> > > actually choose names, make sure it’s
>>>> > >
>>>> > > people you actually know and go with
>>>> > >
>>>> > > your first instinct.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > Scroll down one line at a time…and don’t
>>>> > >
>>>> > > read ahead or you’ll ruin
>>>> > >
>>>> > > it!
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 1. First, write the numbers 1 through 11 in
>>>> > >
>>>> > > a column.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 2. Then, beside numbers 1 and 2, write down
>>>> > >
>>>> > > any two numbers you
>>>> > >
>>>> > > want.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 3. Beside the 3 and 7, write down the names
>>>> > >
>>>> > > of members of the opposite sex.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > NO LOOKING AHEAD…OR IT WON”T TURN OUT RIGHT!
>>>> > >
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 4. Write anyone’s name (like friends or
>>>> > >
>>>> > > family….) in the 4th, 5th,
>>>> > >
>>>> > > and 6th spots.
>>>> > >
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 5. Write down four song titles in 8,9, 10,
>>>> > >
>>>> > > and 11.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > GO WITH YOUR INSTINCT PEOPLE!!!!
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 6. Finally, make a wish.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > And now the key for the game…..
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 1. You must tell (the number in space 2)
>>>> > >
>>>> > > people about this game.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 2. The person in space 3 is the one that you
>>>> > >
>>>> > > love.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 3. The person in 7 is one you like but can’t
>>>> > >
>>>> > > work out.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 4. You care most about the person you put in
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 4
>>>> > > 5. The person you name in number 5 is the
>>>> > >
>>>> > > one who knows you very
>>>> > >
>>>> > > well.
>>>> > > 6. The person you name in 6 is your lucky
>>>> > >
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>>>> > > 7. The song in 8 is the song that matches
>>>> > >
>>>> > > with the person in number 3.
>>>> > >
>>>> > > 8. The title in 9 is the song for the person
>>>> > >
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Actually there are 2:
Night with Troubled Mind
I just want to tell you that I’m Satan
And the stars are beginning to peek out, winking impish
I think that the world just started turning faster
And the black ink began to stream sideways across the page, blending with the day blue
In a satin that covers the curve without flaw
I search to find my familiar spot, that which cowered with me
As more nails punch though Satin’s perfection
A knife follows, jabbing pale daggers
There I lay my marker, false comfort in red
As more eyes open, marking a path where promises are made, welcome all
But what is the splendour of the night with troubled mind?
Magdalane
She said “I want to be with it,
But the morning is so hard,
To wrench my arms, to pry the
Fleece, the little purple flowers”
A coat tailored for one much more delicate,
That wreathed her chin so graciously, reluctant
Like Gardenbeard, his breath in perfume rivulets
Her nose so gently upturned,
In reclining,
Casting a searchlight, boring through the white plaster
That jolted through the greenfields
And everending glen
That once led the hopeless sleepheld
In a weightless dance
And she swore she wouldn’t get up for
The liquor of the most feverous
Flowers that etherize with their scent
For why wake when wrists are encircled with mist?
My mom sez she wants to go die in the old woods near the farm where she was born. It is no more, the farm I mean.
You got my vote for best poet- rock on. xo