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Robin Ouzman Hislop
Different War But the Whores Never Change.Poem.SageSweetwater
Different War But the Whores Never Change
Sweetwater staying true to the original characters in The Biker Chronicles. Try adapting an audio recording to film when you went into the recording studio some twenty years ago when Sweetwater did! Things have changed! Much! Different wars but the whores never change! My dilemma on a particular character named the Vision Jammer has prompted me to cast three different men for the role incorporating three generations. Sixty-five is the common age for living Viet Nam veterans, some well into their seventies and eighties, many of the older Viet Nam vets have passed on. So today’s Viet Nam vets are from the 60-ish group, the Viet Nam war ending in 1975, 38 years ago. So, what we have is an older character cast for the Vision Jammer and Country Music Star Toby Keith cast as Jammer Jr. in his forties, staying close with Keith’s age, and a young Jammer Jr. casting an 18-year old man. The film script will be finished at the end of the month on to film! Interesting adaptation! —Sage Sweetwater, original recording artist of The Biker Chronicles adapted to film by Sage Sweetwater.
Different War But the Whores Never Change
viet nam
delivers a
heavy kick the
weight of the shrapnel
imbedded in his right leg
in nam the vision jammer existed
from self-teachings on the power of
fantasy and illusion bats flew circles
above the vision jammer as he rode the
moonlit asphalt hard and fast
it kept
him alive
and delivered
him home safe but
not sound no vet ever
came home sound
war fragment reminiscence collectively
floated on top of what was
left of gray matter
visions of
a night-wandering
seductress danced nude
on a black-and-white tiled
checkerboard floor as shiny
as the gold hoops piercing her
nipples
he throttled
down and the shovelhead
ceased the euphoric thunder
the nicotine tasted sweeter than
pralines but when the vision jammer
drank whiskey all things tasted sweeter
especially the flesh of a hot woman
his war-stained
hands pulled the
red baron’s over his
inflamed eyes and he
snugged the stars and stripes
bandana around his scarred forehead
not about to lose a piece of America again
the asphalt
and moon turned red
castle whores motioned
to him from outside castle
balconies
unmistakable obscenities
echoed throughout whoreland
their soliciting voices sounded
relentless like the voice of his
platoon sergeant john darrius kalitzy
jd for short
a thumbs up
sign was all he
cared to offer out
of appreciation to their
bribe of white powder he
politely eased the throttle
and watched the moon reflect on
their red mirrors
the snow lines
dissipated into
their racy bloodstreams
he smiled and took his left
hand off the grip plugging a
nostril as if he were indulging
with these perfumed whore babies
and to his surprise one tossed down
a vial of snow and shouted from the
powder slopes above “One for the road!”
the vision jammer
didn’t do powder but
then again he didn’t do
war until it was assigned
to him
he thought
cocaine paralleled
with war just different
lines were used to fight the
enemy
Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, Celebrity firebrand lesbian novelist
http://www.authorsden.com/sagesweetwater
Sage Sweetwater is the name of Colorado Firebrand Lesbian Novelist, Poet, Storyteller, Screenwriter and Business Artist. She has several High-Budget feature films, no less than fifteen in Pre-production, some near filming. Her Jett Durango Trilogy, three spaghetti western style feature films will usher in her film career. Sage has written poetry for many years, showcasing her work on Authors Den since 2005, and funneling in her readers to Authors Den from social media venues such as Twitter and Facebook. Her vast writing and film portfolio can be seen on Authors Den. Sage’s writing career has spanned nearly twenty five years when she first began to write and publish, then in the last three years has adapted her novels to film and wrote other screenplays from the ground up now in Pre-production. She has solid Hollywood investors who are financing her various films and she has good producer representation managing her career. Sweetwater and The Sundance Wives also have a multitude of spin-off products in the works from Sweetwater’s various films.
Sara Russell, former editor and founder of Poetry Life & Times did the first PL&T interview with Sage back in the year 2006. Robin Ouzman Hislop took over PL&T from Sara and he did a second PL&T interview with Sage in the following year of 2007. A lot has changed in Sage Sweetwater’s writing and film career since then. Filmmaking requires long time frames—years, if you will. Sweetwater thanks both Sara and Robin for taking her in and introducing her around in the poetry literary scene via Poetry Life & Times, just a wonderful poetry family.
The Oz Man II(In the Shameful Shadow of Shelley’s ‘Ozymandias’)Sonnet.Poem.Norman Ball.
I met a Baathist from a ravaged land
Who said: Two short, blue-trousered legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half-dazed by shock and awe, a visage frowns,
with wrinkled lip, and smirk of chimp-command.
No doubt Dick Cheney well those passions read,
Which squawk on yet, as do most lame-duck things,
Like mice that roared, while at the trough they fed,
And on one trouser-cuff these words appear:
“My name is W, unelected King:
Look on my Evil Axis and despair!”
No liberty remains. Round the decay
Of neo-cons and hegemonic air,
Fallujah’s level sands stretch far away.
Who said: Two short, blue-trousered legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half-dazed by shock and awe, a visage frowns,
with wrinkled lip, and smirk of chimp-command.
No doubt Dick Cheney well those passions read,
Which squawk on yet, as do most lame-duck things,
Like mice that roared, while at the trough they fed,
And on one trouser-cuff these words appear:
“My name is W, unelected King:
Look on my Evil Axis and despair!”
No liberty remains. Round the decay
Of neo-cons and hegemonic air,
Fallujah’s level sands stretch far away.
***
***
The Ozymandias sonnet also appeared in Christopher Dickey’s ‘The Shadowland Journal’. Christopher Dickey is Paris Bureau Chief and Middle East Regional Editor for Newsweek Magazine and The Daily Beast.
http://christopherdickey.blogspot.com/2006/10/war-poetry-ii.html
http://christopherdickey.blogspot.com/2006/10/war-poetry-ii.html
***
***
***
***
NORMAN BALL is a poet, playwright, essayist and musician residing in Virginia. A featured poet on Prairie Home Companion, his poems and essays have appeared in Light Quarterly, The Raintown Review, The Berkeley Poetry Review, Epicenter, Oxford Magazine, The Cumberland Poetry Review, 14 by 14, Rattle, Liberty, The Hypertexts, Main Street Rag, The New Renaissance, The Scotsman, The London Times among dozens of others. His essay collections, How Can We Make Your Power More Comfortable? (2010) and The Frantic Force (2011), both widely available on the web, are published by Del Sol Press and Petroglyph Books, respectively. His recent play SIDES: A Civil War Musical (Inspired by The Red Badge of Courage) is currently being produced for TV by Last Tango Productions, LLC.
Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle Revisited. 3 Poems. Ian Irvine (Hobson)
Image: ‘Darwin’s Tree of Life’ [from public domain image, drawn by Darwin]
Poems
A Power Denuded the Granite
The Devil’s Confervae
The Work of Minute and Tender Animals
Poems by Ian Irvine (Hobson), copyright all rights reserved.
Please Note: many of these poems meditate upon or, in some cases rework/recombine, random phrases appearing in the 2nd edition of Charles Darwin’s The Voyage of the Beagle. The first edition of the work appeared in 1839. I hope I have done some justice to the natural lyricism evident in Darwin’s relaxed prose style.
(i.)
A Power Denuded the Granite
All that glitters in the sun’s rays
suggests a profound ocean
and a growing burden
How many years
short of infinity
to polish these
burnished stones?
I have come to the tides
and the rivulets
the countless inundations,
the waves on the black rocks
the cataracts, the great rivers
the stubborn work of millennia.
I am growing old and weary
on this boat,
this salt-stained boat
of Empire.
(ii.)
The Devil’s Confervae
Can you see us from behind?
early morning salt haze—the sun
rising. And the boat slowing
enters an eerie stretch of
ocean, velvet-red, and
glides between a god-infested heaven
and a godless carpet of sea stuff
This blood track—it must be
two miles long—of
infernal waters.
The boat slows, we glide
Can you see us from behind?
The morning is huge
as we plough
the pulp of our sorrow
the whole surface of the water
pulses—and the waves lapping.
Under the lens, I observe
the contraction of tiny granular spheres
their number must be infinite
I’ve heard they make
the Red Sea
(appear) red.
(iii.)
The Work of Minute and Tender Animals
Not far off shore
we test the bottom
(the bottomless ocean)
The line spins down and down.
Envisage:
a steep edifice
(theorise: underwater ramparts, sheer
and dense).
In awe of these submerged mountains—
accumulated stone of ages!
The island, the reef, the coral—the coral
the living part of the greater death,
a vast, eroded, sedimentary death.
Once a volcano—spewed hot
then froze into a geologic form
then whipped by the wind
and lashed by the water
for countless millennia.
Amazing to contemplate—
the splendid work of ages.
It looms from obscene depths
and bleaches in the diving—
the underwater kingdom of
vegetable bones!
But near the surface
such colours, such vividness, such
intricacies of fish and frond.
Coral! The epiphanies of coral
their various shapes
their complex textures
—marvellous life on a bed of death!
Our ancestry as sediment—
compacted into memory.
Today, for the first time, I sense
their concrete presence.
This self, mere fruit of their tragedies—
(the past beneath the waves).