Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Blackthorne Episode 144

image from 


Cinemagenic  144


“If I get rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.”

--Tennessee Williams.

1(medium close-up) Buck tossed a sizzling short-

fused bundle of dynamite down the stairs.

2(cut to shot) of the dynamite bouncing and 

rolling down the stairs, and landing at Cash

Bronson’s feet.

Buck heard heavy boots scurrying like rodents,

and Bronson swearing. Ten bullets tore up the 

edge of the wall that Buck was pressed against.

Then a humongous explosion happened, and the

roof caved in. Banisters became toothpicks, and

everything suddenly was acrid smoke and rubble.

3(cut to exterior) as the ranch house exploded, and

a two hundred foot fireball demon rose up through

the white smoke, a writhing, undulating, angry demon

from hell. Then the air was full of sticks and stones.

4(cut to) a murder of crows fleeing their tree, making 

the dark sky come alive with their swarming.

5(sound cue) saxophone, coronet and bass drum.

6(cut to) the explosion flattened Buck. He lie there

catching his breath, rubbing his eyes, and

marveling at the cathedral bells clanging in his head,

as the shock wave snarled its way across the front 

lawn and raced for the dark timber behind another

fire demon devouring the outbuildings.

  Pieces of ceiling were still falling, as Buck under

the cover of stygian black smoke, pushed his way

back into Thor’s room. He logged at a glance that

a lamp still burned brightly perched on a round low

table, that Thor’s bed was made, that a large well-

framed picture of Salina, its glass covering splintered,

lie in the middle of the bed with blood splattered all

over it, and that a large window at the east end of

the room was half open.

   Buck scattered the glass shards on the picture

frame, cutting his hand. Shaking the frame free of

the glass slivers, he snatched out the sepia-toned

photograph. Salina was wearing a big hat and a

fancy dress, with a low bodice allowing a lusty

set of cleavage to be exhibited. She was smiling,

and looked happy, care-free. A jealous image

seared into Buck’s mind like a branding iron, with

Thor holding Salina, both of them naked, then only

Thor naked, his eyes bleeding, his mutilated hands

crossed in front of the bullet-riddled hole where

once his genitals had been.   

  Buck tucked the photograph inside his shirt and 

rushed to the open window. He heard thudding 

boots clumping up the remains of the stairs. He

shoved the shutters all the way open, banging

them on the side of the house. He poked his

shaggy head out into the crisp night air. The sky

was choked with stars. It was a fifteen foot drop

to the ground below. 

7(cut to exterior) as Buck swung one leg out, and

shifted his weight. Someone darted past the door-

way, and a shotgun went off. The window over 

Buck’s head exploded, and moon-glowing glass

took flight into the gritty darkness. The Thunderer

barked twice, and the lead chewed through the 

wall where the shooter was hiding, and the

projectile found flesh. Someone outside fired at

the window just as Buck dropped out of it.

Glenn Buttkus 

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub OLN

Tuesday, October 26, 2021

Wet Masks

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Wet Masks

“I have come to lead you to the other shore, into

eternal darkness, fire, and ice.”--Dante.

Always raining,

that’s our Halloween night,

and my kids always

want the expensive

costumes, then complain

about the rain, becoming bored and

want to go Home after fifteen minutes.

Always raining,

regardless of forecast,

making it hard to

enjoy the night. One

year costumes were home-

made, and the kids refused to wear them, so

being angry I burned their bassinets.

Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Monday, October 25, 2021

Dread Locks

image from 

Dread Locks

“It is better to be feared than loved, if you can not

be both.”--Machiavelli

I am afraid of drowning. Deep water terrifies me. I

think I have drowned several times in past lives.

It used to haunt me when I was in the Navy.

I used to fear love, the genuine kind, because of

the myriad of responsibilities attached to it. Now

I am afraid of abandonment and loneliness. My

creeping disability feeds this fear daily.

I have a visceral fear of high places. It makes my

heart race and my feet tingle; plus oddly I have to

fight the urge to jump. I envied the Mohawk steel

workers who scampered on moving beams a

thousand feet in the air. 

I fear tight cramped places, like when having an MRI,

six feet deep in iron with only two inches clearance. I

feel like it’s a preview of the coffin.

At my age, I am only a minute away from death. I know

I could die today, or twenty years from now. So, yes. I

fear death, but at the same time I am fascinated by it.

Soul is energy. Energy is never extinguished, it is just

transferred. I have a lot of Zen New Age notions about

death as merely a transition that I want to explore.

The hare does not fear

the hawk. It never sees it

dropping down as death..

Glenn A. Buttkus


Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Thursday, October 21, 2021

Fire Fables

image from IMDb. 

 Fire Fables

Things were pretty dull until two

million years ago, seeing new

strange wildfires.

Among the ashes were some hot spots,

just several odd blazing dots,

called a backfire.

They say that great apes were the first

to see that a hot flaming burst

was a homefire.

Then man aped the chimps so it seems,

after some burning and sad screams

became cookfire.

So some smart men controlled a spark;

no longer afraid of the dark,

having campfires. 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Both Ways Now

image from

 Both Ways Now

I Lost My Way

I lost my way. I forgot to call on your name. The raw 

heart beat against the world, and the tears were for

my lost victory. But you are here. You have always

been here. The world is all forgetting, and the heart

is a rage of directions, but your name unifies the

heart, and the world is lifted into its place. Blessed

is the one who waits in the traveller’s heart for his

turning.--Leonard Cohen

I Found My Way

The raw heart

and the tears

have always been here.
I was just

blind to them


even though the world

can be all forgetting,

you are here


You have unified

the chaos

within my heart.


I was the one

who waited.

All I really

had to do

was call your name,

and you appeared,

arms wide open,

willing to help me

find my way.

We became

a duo again,

us against the world.

Blessed with Love,

no longer a lost victory.

Following your sweet directions

I am lifted into my place

in this conundrum.

I no longer

have to rage and curse.

My angry heart

has turned from stone

to apple sauce,

for the traveller

has returned,


Home is where

the heart is.

Glenn Buttkus 

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Monday, October 18, 2021

Earth to Earth

image from 

Earth to Earth

“I tell you, the past is just a bucket of ashes.”

--Carl Sandburg.

One day,


than later,

my meatsuit

will be

burned to ash.


a box

of ashes,

like so much


I have

the ashes


our last 

family dog.

But how

do you check

the validity

of the ash,

after spending

the cash?

Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Wednesday, October 13, 2021

Blackthorne Episode 143

image from 


Cinemagenic 143


“She is both hellfire and holy water; as to which

depends on how you treat her.”--Anonymous.

1(sound cue) seven pistols emptying their cylinders,

shots merging like rolling thunder, like the savage

maw of a tornado--over coronet and piano.

2(medium wide shot) seven times six filling the air with

lead, a swarm of killer hornets. A baroque crystal lamp

at the top of the stairs shattered twenty-fold, and huge

ragged craters pocked the expensive oak paneling on

the corridor wall. Then it was quiet.

3( close-up ) Buck could hear a grandfather clock 

striking nine o’clock.

4(voice over) Bronson: Buck, you sonofabitch!

Buck: Cash, you miserable motherfucker!

5(medium close-up) Cash: How do you want this to go?

What do you really want?

6(voice over) Buck: I came for my horse.

Cash: Bullshit--as far as I can reckon, you’ve already

got the Appy. 

7(close up) Buck: Yeah, I do, don’t I?

8(voice-over) So let’s get down to the nut-cutting.

Buck: Hell of a good idea.

9(voice-over) Cash: So?

Buck: Your balls would look real good nailed to

a fence post. 


Cash: We found Paulie. He’s almost alive.


Cash: Thanks. I can see what’s left of Thor.

Buck: You’re welcome.

10(sound cue) harmonica and violin.

11(close-up) Cash: Buck...Buck, hell’s belles, what

a fucking shit parade. 

Buck: You opted to be Grand Master.

Cash: Seems to me we’re all in and even up.

Buck: How do you figure?

Cash: Look at it. Our people and family are dead.

Both of our ranches are burned to the bricks. I’m

thinking we ought to call a truce, and pick up the 

pieces. What do you say?

Buck: You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Only

problem is you are the scorpion promising

not to sting me if I hold out my hand. You

would watch me holster my iron, and walk

out into a hailstorm of bullets.

Cash: Not true. No one will intervene--I

promise it is just you and me.

Buck: You and me and ten of your gunmen. Fuck

you, Hefe, I ain’t buying the snake oil.

Cash: You are a lot of things, Buck, but I never 

thought you were a coward.

Buck: Are you kidding me? Are you challenging me

to a fistfight in the middle of a gun battle?

Cash: Damn rights. I’ll break your neck with my

bare hands!

Buck: Thor and I bare-knuckled it one time--how

did that work out?

Cash: I’m not Thor.

Buck: Neither is he.

12(sound cue) the metallic sound of cartridges being 

rammed into hot cylinders, above and below the stairs

over jazz brushing and harmonica huffing.

13(close-up) Cash yelling: I tell you it’s you and me, you

chickenshit back-shooting split-tongue buffalo-fucking



14(voice-over) Hey, big man, I got a present for you,

come and get it!

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub