Tuesday, May 31, 2022


image from wikipedia.


“When a man denies the power of women, he is

denying his subconscious.”--Amrita Pritam. 

Just the words

give me a chill--

female genital mutilation,




The practice is still found

in 30 countries

in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East;

in 200 million women.

The practice is done on girls

from birth to puberty.

They remove the clitoral hood,

the clitorus itself,

the outer and inner labia,

and close off the vulva;

after marriage,

reopening the vagina for intercourse.

Believe it or not,

this barbarity

is usually initiated and carried out

by women.

Add to that

the burka mandates

and medieval treatment

of women in Muslim countries.

Add to that

those MAGA Trumpers

on the Supreme Court,

preparing to strike down

Roe V. Wade,

and my whole body

clenches with anger.

Some of us

have always been champions

for Women’s rights-

but not enough it seems.

The world needs to consider

the fight for Women’s Rights

as important as saving the elephants,

or weaning off the fossil fuel tit,

or getting rid of the plastics

out of the ocean.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub

Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Blackthorne Episode 152

image from vintagewesterncovers.com


Cinemagenic 152


“Kelly was a seaman, and  he observed all the

safety rules that had been written in the blood

of less careful men.”--Tom Clancy.

1(sound cue) soft guitar strumming overridden

by loud gunfire.

2(close-up) Buck opened his bloodshot eyes.

3(sound cue) birdsong over river lapping.

4(set shot) bright sun streaming through

billowing curtains. 

5(two-shot) Buck turned his head. Salina was

asleep in a wicker chair, covered with a red Indian

blanket. The sun and the breeze played in her

hair. It was early morning.

6(sound cue) a rooster crowed.

He could smell coffee, bacon and beans. Suddenly

he was very hungry. He could hear voices outside.

They were speaking in Spanish. Wood crackled in

an old pot-bellied stove at the back of the room. He

hurt everywhere. He could barely move. He glanced 

back at Salina. She was awake, and smiling.

Salina: Good morning, my love.

Buck: God damn, you are a vision.

Salina: Oh, I’m sure.

Buck: I mean it, like an angel in a painting.

Salina: You sir, are delirious.

Buck: You are beautiful.

Salina: Right--I haven’t had a bath in days, my hair

is like a crow’s nest.

Buck: How long was I asleep?

Salina: Another full day.

7(sound cue) Banjo.

8(medium wide shot) The door opened, and a tall

Mexican stepped inside. His ornate black sombrero

was on his neck. He wore a wide red and black scarf.

He had gray sideburns, with thick curly coal-black

hair. His teeth were very white under a thick 

moustache. He carried two steaming cups of coffee. 

Jesus: Buenos dias, senorita. I could hear you two

talking, so I brought you some cafe. 

Salina: Why, thank you, Jesus.

Buck: I think I know you, compadre.

Jesus: Yes, Senor Buck, there are six of us

here. We are all friends of Mateo. We rode

with the Senorita to rescue you, and now we

stay for a while to protect you, until you heal

up. We want eschar una mano.

Buck: I appreciate it, muchas gracias. 

Jesus: Actually, we all thank you. 

Buck: For what?

Jesus: For having the courage to take on the

Bronsons. You are the heroe to so many of us.

Buck was silent. His eyes became moist.

Jesus: Te veo luego.

Buck nodded as Jesus left the room.

Salina: The vaqueros are good men. You are

safe here.

Buck: Tell you what, I could eat the ears off a 

bobcat. Any chance I can get some grub?

Salina: The boys cooked up a big breakfast. I’ll

go out and see if they have some chuck to spare.

She leaned over and kissed him. It hurt, but he

didn’t mind at all.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub OLN