Black Angels

image borrowed from bing

Black Angels

“Negro pilots cannot be used in our present Air Corps units, 

since this would result in Negro officers serving over white

enlisted men, creating an impossible social situation.”

--General Henry “Hap” Arnold

John Henry Allen died today at 84;

drafted right after high school in 1945,

he was assigned to the 332nd Fighter

Squadron Wing of the Tuskegee Airmen.

Black pilots were prevented from participating

in WWI. After tremendous pressure & lobbying,

in April 1939, Congress designated funds for

the training of African-American pilots.

Of course there were strict racist protocols

regarding the training, & they only accepted

those applicants with high IQs and good educations,

& the resulting units formed were fully segregated,

staffed by all white officers.

So what was the Army Air Corps to do with these

“black gorillas with wings” that Congress had forced

upon them--of course, that became as little as possible.

At first the black pilots were trained at the

477th Bombardment Group to fly the

American B-25 Mitchell Bombers, but

they were never allowed to fly in combat. 

But in 1941, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt

inspected the Tuskegee Program, and she

was taken aloft for 30 minutes by veteran

black pilot Al Anderson. And gosh, right after

that the 99th Fighter Squadron was formed.

Still, the 99th was held in reserve until 1943,

when they were finally deployed to N. Africa;

only allowed to fly ground attacks, & were

prevented from flying air to air combat missions.

One bright note in the chaos was that their

aircraft kept improving; they cut their teeth

on the Curtiss P-40 Airhawk, then got the

Bell P-39 Aircobras, followed by the

Republic P-47 Thunderbolts-that were

the first planes to have their tails

painted blood red. 

In July 1944, when I was a month old,

they received the first shipment of

American P-51 Mustangs. After drenching

their tails red, the squadron was finally

deployed to Europe, where they were

“allowed” to fly as fighter escorts for several

B-17 Bomber Groups. The bomber losses

had been as high as 50% on some raids,

but the Tuskegee unit flew 179 escort missions

and only lost 25 bombers, earning them the

affectionate nickname of Red Tail Angels.

Those black pilots fought like demons, unleashing

all their pent-up passions, sensing that they had

a chance to change history; and they did.

In desperation, the Germans sent up their super-fighters

against them, the FW 190 radical propeller fighters,

the ME 153 rocket-powered fighters, & then the 

ME 262s, the world’s first jet fighters--and the

Red Tails shot them down by the dozens.

Three Tuskegee Airmen officers went on to become

generals in the Air Corps. In 2007, 300 of the surviving

airmen were awarded Congressional Gold Medals.

180 survivors attended the first inauguration

of Barack Obama.

I tell you we were very fortunate that a band

of black brothers rose up and sprouted angry

wings when we needed them, distinguishing

themselves against incredible segregational odds.

The survivors inspire us to strive to become

better Americans, where all of the Jim Crow

racism is pursued and punished with righteous

“extreme prejudice; and one day, I hope it will

be as extinct as polio, and that no one will tolerate

its regeneration. 

Glenn Buttkus

August 2013

Posted over on dVerse Poets Poetics

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?

Voyeurs R Us

image borrowed from bing

Voyeurs R Us

“There is something very uncomfortable about the

voyeurism in the press, where people seem to have

an insatiable curiosity about you.”--Claire Danes

Google today had it’s typical quota of celebrity

gossip mixed in with hard news--and as usual,

I read the gossip first. 

J.K.Rowling published new novel THE CUCKOO’S

CALLING under name Robert Galbraith; after secret

revealed, book sales soared.

Kidnapping victim Michelle Knight has entered the

courtroom 4 Ariel Castro’s sentence hearing.

Watch it all on CNN.

Good lord, I seem to have hit 6 million followers.

What an honor. A kiss to each of you, xxxxxx (etc)

--Stephen Fry.

Randy Travis, 54, suffered heart attack/stroke a month

ago, but is recovering, after several arrests this year

4 assault & public intoxication.

Character actress Eileen Brennan died on July 28 after

a battle w/ bladder cancer. She was 80 yrs old.

Sun’s coming up. 4am call 2 prayer woke me. This place

is amazing. Everyone should experience Istanbul.--

Russell Crowe.

Simon Cowell’s 87 yr old Mum is “over the moon” about

news he will have new baby with his mistress, Lauren

Silverman. 

Jennifer Aniston’s BFF Chelsea is turning low-key trip

to Cabo w/ girlfriends into naughty bachelorette party. 

Bikini clad Harry Potter star Bonnie Wright (Ginny Weasley)

kisses mystery man on boat 4 sunshine getaway.

Sly Stallone showed off big purple bruise behind one knee

as he walked with his daughters in Monaco. 

Penelope Cruz directs Irina Shayk in racy advert

4 Cruz’s underwear line--AGENT PROVOCATEUR.

How lucky is Susan Downey I mean just imagine being

married 2 Robert Downey Jr oh my God w o w --

little miss pipedream.

Courtney Stodden showed off her surgically enhanced

breasts in lettuce leaf bikini to promote vegetarianism.

Tina Turner at 73 yrs old marries longtime younger

boyfriend Edwin Bach, & flashes big wedding ring at

St. Tropez. 

And these celebrity vignettes await us every day

in the media so that we can satiate our star-struck

voracious appetites. 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets #FFA

Would you like to hear the author read this Twitter poem to you?

Argentum Arms

image borrowed from bing

Argentum Arms

“To my great surprise, Twitter is not housed in a silver pod

that orbits the earth; no, it is in a bland building in San 

Francisco, next to a bowling alley.”--Susan Orlean

Silver is more than the Lone Ranger’s stallion,

more than mere coinage coatings, even

more than an alloy with gold, copper, zinc

and lead; much more, for Marvel Comics

has been drawn to its luster like a pack

of wild dogs chasing a wolf bitch in heat. 

From the Golden Age, through the Silver Age

of comics, the Marvel universe has been laced

with Silver, crowned with it, and many

of their super heroes have been forged

and fused with it, an amazing amalgam,

with characters coated & placed heavy into it

like beautiful & clunky Navaho jewelry.

My absolute favorite shining superhero,

drawn by Neal Adams, is the Silver Surfer,

of course; once just an eager young

astronomer, Norrin Radd, living on  Zenn-La,

who saved his homeworld from Galactus,

a planet devourer, by agreeing to become

his herald, to zoom through the cosmic

dust on his silver surfboard searching for

planets to consume--

until he came upon the Earth, 

met up with the Fantastic Four,

who helped him regain his humanity,

saving Terra Firma, betraying Galactus,

and being exiled on Earth for punishment. 

Silver Sable was a female mutant mercenary,

an acquaintance of Dr. Doom, who hunted

war criminals so relentlessly that she often

angered other superheroes, like Spider-Man

and Captain America. 

Silver Dagger was a former Cardinal in the Catholic

Church, who hunted demons with his magical

dagger, often went astray, and has fought

Spider-Man and Dr. Strange.

Silver Scorpion, Elizabeth Barstow, was a Golden Age

character who was a companion to the Human Torch. 

Silver Samurai, who just fought the Wolverine in his

latest film, is a Japanese mutant, who energizes

his sword & armor, who became a criminal,

and has fought Daredevil, Black Widow, and Spider-Man.

Silverclaw is a female mutant who is a reserve member

of the Avengers, named Maria, and has the power

to shape shift into several different were-forms. 

Silvermane has always been a super villain, 

and is a long time nemesis of Spider-Man,

and he has fought Daredevil, and Nick Fury.

Silver Scarab is a superhero named Hector Hall,

who is the son of Hawkman & Hawkgirl,

who became for a time the Sandman,

and then later Dr. Fate. 

Quicksilver is a mutant, the son of Magneto,

the twin brother to the Scarlet Witch, possessing

superhuman speed, and was recruited by

Iron Man to be a member of the New Avengers. 

I don’t know why the other Comics behemoth,

DC, never got as attached to silver superheroes,

but there probably is a good reason, like maybe

Jack Kirby would have punched them out,

or Stan Lee would have sued them. 

Glenn Buttkus

July 2013

Posted over on Poetry Jam  

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?

Dusky Deeds

image borrowed from bing

Dusky Deeds

“I will wear my heart on my sleeve, for daws

to peck at: I am not what I am.”--Iago

The roots of racism run miles and centuries deep,

as Shakespeare noted, using it as a catalyst

in many of his plays.

His most perplexing and finely drawn villain,

the most manipulative of his antagonists

was Iago in Othello: the Moor of Venice (1603),

a long play that drives straight ahead, relentlessly,

without any comic relief subplot.

Tight, cleverly written, this is a Machiavellian

role with lethal layers, wholly amoral, cynical,

angry, jealous, envious, but still containing

depth & spirit, as he was a dangerously sly

and intelligent psychopath. 

Interestingly, Iago has the most lines in the play,

1,070 of them, far more than Othello--

the most lines for any non-title character

in Shakespeare; what can we deduce from this?

Iago plants the seeds of hate early on,

“Even now, now, very now, an old black ram

is tupping your white ewe--making the beast

with two backs.”

What we know, or think we know of Iago, came

from the various theatrical and film productions

of the play. Most of the actors playing Othello

have not been black--Ralph Richardson, John

Geilgud, Laurence Olivier, Orson Welles, Raul

Julia, & Anthony Hopkins; outnumbering the black actors

who have tackled the part--Paul Robson, James Earl

Jones, & Laurence Fishburne.

Yes, it is always Iago that is the lightning rod, 

the motor for the play, powering the plot, and

his dark motivations have been interpreted

by several noted actors:

Laurence Olivier played him at the Old Vic

in 1938, adding a homosexual veneer to

his jealous rages & malevolent behaviors.

They say David Suchet played him as gay

at the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1985.

Kenneth Branagh’s Iago in a film version,

showed a conflicted affection for Othello.

Ian McKellen gave him another fey shadowing

in a 2004 production, done as a 19th century

setting, and the critics complained that his

portrayal was “too brilliant as he out-shined

the rest of the cast.”

Jose Ferrer played him as brooding, slick,

& intelligent on Broadway in 1942, playing

opposite Paul Robson. 

Bob Hoskins in a 1981 BBC production,

opposite Anthony Hopkins, played him

As “quintessentially evil, rotten to the core”

outshining Hopkins.

Christopher Walken, playing opposite Raul

Julia in a 1991 Shakespeare in the Park

production, played him as “inexhaustibly

snide & wonderfully beastly.”

Christopher Plummer, opposite James Earl Jones

in 1982, played him as witty-evil, smiling, a con man.

Philip Seymour Hoffman got rave reviews off Broadway,

doing a marvelous non-star turn with “a provocative

portrait of a man burned to an ashen, angry nihilism

by years of unrewarded service.”

Only Ewan McGregor seemed to earn unanimous 

negative reviews, and it was written of his portrayal,

“He had no glee, no panache, no light and shade.”

It is past time, people--we just have to own the several

shades of darkness in each of us; even we Boomers

who had our civil rights awakening during the free-

wheeling 60’s, in the glaring light of the Zimmerman

decision, and the indefatigable coverage regarding

the state of Racism in America today--

we need to ask ourselves the very hard questions

about our own motives, perceptions, relationships,

& prejudices, and regardless of our discoveries

therein, be prepared to pry our minds to the open

setting, and truly begin to reinforce our liberal

rhetoric with actuality, honesty, & verve. 

Glenn Buttkus'

July 2013

Posted over at dVerse Poets OLN107

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?

Septem Maria

image borrowed from bing

Septem Maria

“Words, of course, are the most powerful drug

used by mankind.”--Rudyard Kipling

from THE SEVEN SEAS. 

Our blue planet, in its infancy, was completely

covered by water, one vast pole to pole

body of water, one seemingly endless Salton Sea;

rife with terrible storms as armies of waves

clashed within the magnetic axis lines, pulled

about spastically by the new moon. 

Within all this turbulent saline, life began;

first a few random cells splitting, then combining,

until countless aquatic colonies were created

clinging to reefs, deep trenches, and the 

slippery sides of sea mounts.

Some of these primitive creatures developed

curiosity, and they visited the surface incessantly,

until the Forces-That-Be co-created some of them

sporting gills and nostrils, and lo, sea mammals

began to appear, preferring gulping open air to

breathing oxygen underwater.

Rising hourly out of the water with their huge bodies,

they kept searching the flat horizons for specks

of substance, because they felt daily the shaking

of the earth’s core, knowing that the magma heart

kept thrusting its cooling peaks & pinnacles higher

each eon, until one magnificent day

Land appeared, first as atolls, then islands,

then huge continents. 

The bravest of the open air-breathers began

flopping themselves up onto the land, remaining

longer each time before returning to the waves;

until Nature, or the gods, kept intervening, turning

fins into legs, then arms, soon adding prehensile

grips, before the clumsy little hands were created

complete with opposable thumbs. 

These creatures were eager to explore the lands

provided for them by the throbbing planet; some

of them beginning to stand erect, first on four feet,

then all the way back & up on two, standing tall;

allowing their natural instincts to become

dreams, intellect, & dialectics--but always, 

always amongst the diverse populations

there were men who longed to return to the sea

as sailors, fishermen, & explorers.

Early on a saying was used to connote splendid

nautical skills, mariners would say that they

“sailed the seven seas.”

One of the earliest records of this saying was Sumerian

in 2300 BC, and they listed them as

the Persian Gulf

the Gulf of Khambhat

Bay of Bengal

Strait of Malacca

Singapore Strait

the Gulf of Thailand

the South China Sea.

Later in Medieval Europe, they changed the list;

the Black Sea

the Caspian Sea

the Arabian Sea

the Indian Ocean

the Red Sea

the Mediterranean Sea

the Adriatic Sea--

and depending on the region, the list could include

the Aegean Sea

the North Sea

the Dead Sea--

aka the Sea of Sodom

the Sea of Galilee.

In Colonial times, sailing in Clipper ships

from England to China, “sailing to, and returning

from, the other side of the world”, the list was

the Banda Sea

the Celebes Sea,

the Flores Sea,

the Java Sea,

the South China Sea,

the Sula Sea

the Timor Sea.

In modern times as we place our cameras

in outer space, when we speak of the Seven Seas,

we are referring to all the oceans of the world;

the North Pacific Ocean

the South Pacific Ocean

the North Atlantic Ocean

the South Atlantic Ocean

the Indian Ocean

the Southern Ocean

the Arctic Ocean.

Today we call over a hundred bodies of water “seas”,

so as you dream of piracy, glory, & exploration,

just pick seven of them, any seven,

and sail the hell out of them. 

Glenn Buttkus

July 2013

Posted over on dVerse Poets Poetics

Would you like to hear the author read this watery poem to you?

Tune Therapy

image borrowed from bing

Tune Therapy

“The 60’s are gone, dope will never be as cheap, 

sex never as free, and the rock & roll never as great.”

---Abbie Hoffman

Back in my woebegone wage-slave days,

during my 30 minute commute to the office

each & every weekday morning,

to avoid the tremendous tedium,

to cheer myself up,

to dig the moment inhabited,

to put forward some positive vibes,

always listening to one FM Classic Rock station,

I would play a little game along the way,

always the Pollyanna at the start;

knowing that rock songs are 3 minutes in length,

knowing that I had 8 to 10 chances,

knowing that the damned odds were long,

knowing that my success would be minimal,

I created two Rock Group categories;

“Best of the Best I” and

“Best of the Best II”.

In the first group I included five

of my favorite R&R artists,

needing to hear one of their songs;

Beatles

Rolling Stones

Doors

Queen

Elton John. 

In the second group I included

my next five favorite R&R artists,

and would accept songs from,

Crosby, Stills, & Nash

Joni Mitchell

Heart

ZZ Top

Pink Floyd.

I would always get more excited

if I could hear a song from Group I,

but, of course, would still

love it if I heard any tune

from an artist in Group II, but

this game was complex.

I decided that if I could hear just one song

from either group, my whole day

would be ringed with rainbows;

on a fabulous day I would actually hear

up to 4 artists from both lists during

the half-hour commute,

but on a gray day, I would hear

none of them, and that day

would be dullard & flat-assed.

It was my will against the odds,

with my heart vulnerable to

the whims of cruel chance.

Sometimes I would go a whole week

without scoring a win, but hey,

sometimes I would be fat-flushed

with luscious luck, and my songs

would appear in cheerful clumps

day after day, a shining week.

This silly superstitious routine

was practiced for several years

and I never tired of it.

Sometimes, yes, I do miss the game, but

not the terrible traffic,

not the woeful worries,

not the fatuous fatigue,

not the belligerent bosses,

not the writhing work day. 

Glenn Buttkus

July 2013

Posted over on dVerse Poets FFA

Would you like to hear the author read this List Poem to you?