Blackthorne Episode 150

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Blackthorne

Cinemagenic 150

River

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a

river runs through it.”--Norman Maclean.

1(sound cue) Violins.

2(close up) rushing water.

3(voice over) as camera pulls back revealing a

river. Buck; What...water, I can hear water. I’m

sure it’s a river. Where the hell am I? Damn, I

can’t visualize anything, conscious but stranded in

complete darkness. Last thing I remember is

going out that window, and while falling to the

ground, bullets peppering all around me. I did

land on my feet, returning fire, and then....??

4(sound cue) add cello & French horns.

5(overhead drone shot) A fishing cabin, a hundred

yards from the river, lazy smoke rising from a 

rock chimney, the rising sun still hidden behind

some rolling hills, the advance scout rays racing

ahead of the actual rise, painting the sky deep

blood red with tangerine stripes in it. Small water

birds wading in the shallows, pecking for insects.

6(sound cue) birds chirping over soft piano chords.

7(Voice over) Buck: Christ, am I dead? Is this a 

way station? Is that roar the River Styx? This

darkness is vexing. Will I meet Charon? That should

be a treat. If I remember right, I have to pay a fare

to get ferried across the river. Do I still have some

silver in my pants? Have I been righteous enough

to deserve a ride, or will I have to hang around

in some God forsaken corner of Purgatory? 

8(medium wide shot) the sun boldly rising,

revealing its molten core, flecking the river with

plasma and gold. 

9(dolly shot) approaching the cabin, free range

chickens chasing each other and squawking. A

majestic rooster hopped onto porch and crowed.

10(sound cue) trio of cellos.

11(voice over) Buck: A rooster? What the hell are

chickens doing in Purgatory? 

12(dolly up to a window) it is partially open, with

a dirty tattered linen curtain fluttering in the

morning breeze.

13(sound cue) voices can be heard inside.

14(voice over) Buck: Wait a shake, I am 

hearing voices, and I am finally seeing light

directly in front of me. 

15(sound cue) Voice over, a female voice:

Buck, Buck...

16(sound cue) coronet and piano.

17(voice over) Buck: Someone is calling my

name, and I am drawn to it.

“Buck, Buck.”

18(voice over) Buck: Is it time to go? Is this how

it ends? 

19(dolly shot) through the window and into the

cabin. Salina, Henry Wallace, and Doc Sweeney

were gathered around a bed. Buck was in the bed,

swabbed in various bandages. 

20(close up) Buck opens his eyes.

21(one-shot) Salina bends over him:

There’s my sweet man! 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub OLN

Flights of Fancy

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Flights of Fancy

“We live in a fantasy world of illusions. The great 

task in life is to find the reality.”

--Iris Murdoch.

Between wakefulness and REM there

is a place, a dimension that

                 I know.

The experience is vivid.

I hear strange music, assorted

                odd horns.

Swiss alpenhorns, Viking war horns,

didgeridoos, and brass French horns;

                 deep tones.

I smell incense, like sandalwood and

cedar, frankincense, and ginger;

                 pungent.

I float, I fall, spin and fly, when

I am not paralyzed, muscles

                 frozen.

For years I believed I really

was seeing ghosts, aliens and

                 demons.

I found out it’s natural.

hypnagogic when I’m falling

                  asleep,

hypnopompic when waking up.

So I am not crazy after all;

                  so cool.

Glenn Buttkus

Synchronicity

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

War Lover

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War Lover

“Nobody or nothing will stop Russia on the road to

strengthen human rights and freedom.”

--Vladimir Putin.

Most of us abhor war.

All over Europe today

Several NATO countries

Quake because of the evil intent

Under the heel and rule of Putin.

Every proponent of democratic freedom

Really despises him for his bellicosity,

And I am a member of that faction.

Dictators must be put in check.

Essentially, Putin needs to be removed.

Tank diplomacy is always criminal, as

Real innocent civilians are dying,

Under the barrage of artillery,

Missiles and machine guns.

People’s freedoms must be protected.

Everyone needs to agree that

Tyrants must be stopped.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Paper Cuts

image from Wikipedia

 Paper Cuts

“The Chinese do not wash themselves after doing 

their necessities, they wipe themselves with paper.”

--Arab traveller 851 A.D.

For centuries,

men wrote, drew 

and painted

on animal skins.

The Egyptians

gave us papyrus

four centuries

before Christ.

The Chinese

invented paper

in 220 A.D.

Europe

didn’t get it

before the

eleventh century.

I wonder

if Cro-Magnon

ever painted porn

for fun?

Glenn Buttkus

Quadrille

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Blackthorne Episode 149

image from vintagewesterncovers.com

 Blackthorne

Cinemagenic 149

Rescate

“We are our own dragons and our own heroes, 

and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”

--Tom Robbins.

1(sound cue) guitar and coronets.

2(overhead drone shot--day for night) a wagon and

six riders were pushing hard.

3(sound cue) whips, wheels, and hooves.

4(drone descends to tighter shot) spinning wheels, 

four-up team, the snap of reins, and the flexing of

wagon springs.

5(cut to a tracking shot at ground level) The 

blacksmith was driving the team, and Doc

Sweeney sat next to him. Salina crouched behind

the doctor, hanging on tight, her hair flying in the

wind. Henry Wallace led the riders, all of which were

vaqueros, friends of Mateo. 

6(sound cue) snare drums and banjo.

7(three-shot) Doc: Christ, I hope we’re not too late.

Salina: Buck will not die. I won’t allow it.

8(wide shot) a half mile from the Bronson Ranch, 

they could see flames lighting up the sky, and the

staccato of gunfire was audible. As they rounded the

last corner, they could see what was left of the barn,

still an inferno; the whole scene in a hellish glow. The

ranch house was lit up with pistol fire.

9(overhead drone shot) a tremendous explosion went

off within the house. Part of the roof caved in, debris

began falling to earth. Men were rushing out of the

house. 

10(medium wide shot) the newcomers rode in hot, with

guns blazing, and the exhausted ranch hands were

caught off guard. Between the fires, explosion, and gun

fights, there was only a half dozen wranglers still on

their feet. Three of them went down in a hail of oncoming

lead, The final three dropped their weapons and 

surrendered, hands reaching for the demonic sky. 

11(sound cue) loud voices, galloping horses, and the

sputtering of final gun shots over saxophone and juice

harp.

The big wagon slid to a stop, the blacksmith

jerking on the reins, yelling Whoa! Henry

Wallace spryly dismounted from a moving horse, 

as did the five other riders. 

Wallace: Where is Buck?

Ranch hand: He’s got to be dead. It’s been like

Shiloh around here!

Wallace: Did you see him die?

Hand: No, but I saw plenty of other men die. He

is like a one man army.

Salina, out of the wagon, holding a rifle: When did

you last see him? 

Hand: I never did. I was fighting the barn fire, and 

I was told they had him cornered in the house. By

the time I got there the place was on fire, and the next

thing I knew, there was a dynamite explosion. I don’t

think Mr. Bronson made it out of there.

A couple of the Mexicans ran off around both sides of

the house. One of the vaqueros came across a body

near the back of the house. He rolled it over. It

was Buck. 

Vaquero: Hey, I found him! I found Buck!

Salina, Henry and the Doc arrived quickly. Salina bent

down and put her finger to his throat. 

He is alive! 

She lie on top of him, covering him.

Wallace: He lives! Buck is alive! 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Gangsters, Detectives and Cross-Dressers

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Gangsters, Detectives, and Cross-Dressers

I love the drama of a good hat.”--Phillip Bloch.

When it comes to hats,

my personal favorite

has always been the

fedora. 

It is a soft pliable

felt creation, 

that can be shaped

to one’s individual taste.

It was created

in 1891 for a play

Sarah Bernhardt was in.

As a cross-dresser

she influenced Marlene Dietrich,

Greta Garbo and Katherine Hepburn.

As a felt hat,

it was made from beaver or rabbit.

Indiana Jones wore

a beaver fedora.

Al Capone loved wearing fedoras.

Humphrey Bogart wore them in

many film noir roles, as did

George Raft, Dick Powell, and Alan Ladd.

Michael Jackson wore one while performing.

Johnny Depp owns several of them.

As a kid, I remember that

most men wore fedoras

when they wore a suit. 

Fedoras are still made today

by Borsalino, Bailey and Stetson. 

I like to wear mine

when I wear a leather jacket,

slightly cocked,

pulled down to just above my eyes.

Aviator glasses make

a nice accessory.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub