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RAJ NANDY Jul 2017
THE LEGEND OF HOLLYWOOD IN VERSE
Dear Readers, I have tried to cover the salient features of this True Story in free flowing verse mainly with end rhymes. If you read it loud, you can hear the chimes! Due to the short attention span of my readers I had to cut short this long story, and conclude with the
Golden Era of Hollywood by stretching it up to the 1950's only. When TV began to challenge the Big Screen Cinema seriously! I have used only a part of my notes here. Kindly read the entire poem and don't hesitate to know many interesting facts - which I also did not know! I wish there was a provision for posting a few interesting photographs for you here. Best wishes, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi.  

                 THE LEGEND OF HOLLYWOOD :
                        THE AMERICAN  DREAM
                             BY RAJ NANDY

           A SHORT  HISTORICAL  BACKGROUND
Since the earliest days, optical toys, shadow shows, and ‘magic
lanterns’, had created the illusion of motion.
This concept was first described by Mark Roget in 1824 as  
the 'persistent of vision'.
Giving impetus to the development of big screen cinema with its
close-ups, capturing all controlled and subtle expressions!
The actors were no longer required to shout out their parts with
exaggerated actions as on the Elizabethan Stage.
Now even a single tear drop could get noticed easily by the entire
movie audience!
With the best scene being included and edited after a few retakes.
To Thomas Edison and his able assistant William Rogers we owe the invention of Kinetoscope, the first movie camera.
On the grounds of his West Orange, New Jersey laboratory, Edison
built his first movie studio called the ‘Black Maria’.   (1893)
He also purchased a string of patents related to motion picture
Camera; forming the Edison Trust, - a cartel that took control of
the Film Industry entire!

Fort Lee, New Jersey:
On a small borough on the opposite bank of the Hudson River lay
the deserted Fort Lee.
Here scores of film production crews descended armed with picture Cameras, on this isolated part of New Jersey!
In 1907 Edison’s company came there to shoot a short silent film –
‘Rescue From an Eagle’s Nest’,
Which featured for the first time the actor and director DW Griffith.
The independent Chaplin Film Company built the first permanent
movie studio in 1910 in Fort Lee.
While some of the biggest Hollywood studios like the Universal,
MGM, and 20th Century Fox, had their roots in Fort Lee.
Some of the famous stars of the silent movie era included ‘Fatty’
Arbuckle, Will Rogers, Mary Pickford, Dorothy and Lillian Gish,
Lionel Barrymore, Rudolph Valentine and Pearl White.
In those days there were no reflectors and electric arch lights.
So movies were made on rooftops to capture the bright sunlight!
During unpredictable bad weather days, filming had to be stopped
despite the revolving stage which was made, -
To rotate and capture the sunlight before the lights atarted to fade!

Shift from New Jersey to West Coast California:
Now Edison who held the patents for the bulb, phonograph, and the Camera, had exhibited a near monopoly;
On the production, distribution, and exhibition of the movies which made this budding industry to shift to California from
New Jersey!
California with its natural scenery, its open range, mountains, desert, and snow country, had the basic ingredients for the movie industry.
But most importantly, California had bright Sunshine for almost
365 days of the year!
While eight miles away from Hollywood lay the port city of Los Angeles with its cheap labour.

                        THE RISE  OF  HOLLYWOOD
It was a real estate tycoon Harvey Wilcox and his wife Daeida from
Kansas, who during the 1880s founded ‘Hollywood’ as a community for like-minded temperate followers.
It is generally said that Daeida gave the name Hollywood perhaps
due to the areas abundant red-berried shrubs also known as
California Holly.
Spring blossoms around and above the Hollywood Hills with its rich variety,  gave it a touch of paradise for all to see !
Hollywood was incorporated as a municipality in 1903, and during
1910 unified with the city of Los Angeles.
While a year later, the first film studio had moved in from New
Jersey, to escape Thomas Edison’s monopoly!    (1911)

In 1913 Cecil B. De Mille and Jesse Lasky, had leased a barn with
studio facilities.
And directed the first feature length film ‘Squaw Man’ in 1914.
Today this studio is home to Hollywood Heritage Museum as we get to see.
The timeless symbol of Hollywood film industry that famous sign on top of Mount Lee, was put up by a real estate developer in 1923.  
This sign had read as ‘’HOLLY WOOD LAND’’ initially.
Despite decades of run-ins with vandals and pranksters, it managed to hang on to its prime location near the summit of the Hollywood Hills.
The last restoration work was carried out in 1978 initiated by Hugh
Hefner of the ******* Magazine.
Those nine white letters 45 feet tall now read ‘HOLLYWOOD’, and has become a landmark and America’s cultural icon, and an evocative symbol for ambition, glamour, and dream.
Forever enticing aspiring actors to flock to Hollywood, hypnotised
by lure of the big screen!

                     GOLDEN AGE OF HOLLYWOOD
The Silent Movie Era which began in 1895, ended in 1935 with the
production of ‘Dance of Virgins’, filmed entirely in the island of Bali.
The first Sound film ‘The Jazz Singer’ by Warner Bros. was made with a Vitaphone sound-on-disc technology.  (October 1927)
Despite the Great Depression of the 1930s, this decade along with the 1940s have been regarded by some as Hollywood’s Golden Age.
However, I think that this Golden Age includes the decades of the
1940s and the 1950s instead.
When the advent of Television began to challenge the Film Industry
itself !

First Academy Award:
On 16th May 1929 in the Roosevelt Hotel on Hollywood Boulevard,
the First Academy Award presentation was held.
Around 270 people were in attendance, and tickets were priced at
$5 per head.
When the best films of 1927 & 1928 were honored by the Academy
of Motion Production and Sciences, or the AMPS.
Emil Jennings became the best actor, and Janet Gaynor the best actress.
Special Award went to Charlie Chaplin for his contribution to the
silent movie era and for his silent film ‘The Circus’.
While Warren Brothers was commended for making the first talking picture ‘The Jazz Singer’, - also receiving a Special Award!
Now, the origin of the term ‘OSCAR’ has remained disputed.
The Academy adopted this name from 1939 onwards it is stated.
OSCAR award has now become “the stuff dreams are made of”!
It is a gold-plated statuette of a knight 13.5 inches in height, weighing 8.5 pounds, was designed by MGM’s art director Cedric Gibbons.
Annually awarded for honouring and encouraging excellence in all
facets of motion picture production.

Movies During the Great Depression Era (1929-1941):
Musicals and dance movies starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers provided escapism and good entertainment during this age.
“Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did. She just did it
backwards and in high heels,” - the Critics had said.
This compatible pair entertained the viewers for almost one and
a half decade.
During the ‘30s, gangster movies were popular starring James Cagey, Humphrey Bogart, and Edward G. Robinson.
While family movies had their popular child artist Shirley Temple.
Swashbuckler films of the Golden Age saw the sword fighting scenes of Douglas Fairbanks and Errol Flynn.
Flynn got idolized playing ‘Robin Hood’, this film got released in
1938 on the big screen!
Story of the American Civil War got presented in the epic ‘Gone With The Wind’ (1939) with Clarke Gable and Vivian Leigh.
This movie received 8 Oscars including the award for the Best Film, - creating a landmark in motion picture’s history!
More serious movies like John Steinbeck’s ‘Grapes of Wrath’ and
John Ford’s  ‘How Green Was My Valley’, were released in 1940 and 1941 respectively.
While the viewers escaped that depressive age to the magical world
of  ‘Wizard of Oz’ with its actress Judy Garland most eagerly!
Let us not forget John Wayne the King of the Westerns, who began
his acting career in the 1930s with his movie ‘The Big Trail’;
He went on to complete 84 films before his career came to an end.
Beginning of the 40s also saw Bob Hope and the crooner Bing Crosby, who entertained the public and also the fighting troops.
For the Second World War (1939-45) had interrupted the Golden Age of Hollywood.
When actors like Henry Fonda, Clarke Gable, James Stewart and
Douglas Fairbanks joined the armed forces temporarily leaving
Hollywood.
Few propaganda movies supporting the war efforts were also made.
While landmark movies like ‘Philadelphia Story’, ‘Casablanca’, ‘Citizen Kane’,
‘The Best Years of Our Lives’, were some of the most successful movies of that decade.  (The 1940s)
Now I come towards the end of my Hollywood Story with the decade  of the 1950s, thereby extending the period of Hollywood’s Golden Age.
Since having past the Great Depression and the Second World War,  the Hollywood movie industry truly matured and came of age.

                        HOLLYWOOD  OF  THE  1950s

BACKGROU­ND:
The decade of the ‘50s was known for its post-war affluence and
choice of leisure time activities.
It was a decade of middle-class values, fast-food restaurants, and
drive-in- movies;
Of ‘baby-boom’, all-electric home, the first credit cards, and new fast moving cars like the Ford, Plymouth, Buick, Hudson, and Chevrolet.
But not forgetting the white racist terrorism in the Southern States!
This era saw the beginning of Cold War, with Eisenhower
succeeding Harry S. Truman as the American President.
But for the film industry, most importantly, what really mattered  
was the advent of the Domestic TV.
When the older viewers preferred to stay at home instead of going
out to the movies.
By 1950, 10.5 million US homes had a television set, and on the
30th December 1953, the first Color TV went on sale!
Film industries used techniques such as Cinemascope, Vista Vision,
and gimmicks like 3-D techniques,
To get back their former movie audience back on their seats!
However, the big scene spectacle films did retain its charm and
fantasy.
Since fantasy epics like ‘The Story of Robin Hood’, and Biblical epics like ‘The Robe’, ‘Quo Vadis’, ‘The Ten Commandments’ and ‘Ben-Hur’, did retain its big screen visual appeal.
‘The Robe’ released on 16th September 1953, was the first film shot
and projected in Cinema Scope;
In which special lenses were used to compress a wide image into a
standard frame and then expanded it again during projection;
Resulting in an image almost two and a half times as high and also as wide, - captivating the viewers imagination!

DEMAND FOR NEW THEMES DURING THE 1950s :
The idealized portrayal of men and women since the Second World War,
Now failed to satisfy the youth who sought exciting symbols for rebellion.
So Hollywood responded with anti-heroes with stars like James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Paul Newman.
They replaced conventional actors like Tyron Power, Van Johnson, and Robert Taylor to a great extent, to meet the requirement of the age.
Anti-heroines included Ava Gardner, Kim Novak, and Marilyn Monroe with her vibrant *** appeal;
She provided excitement for the new generation with a change of scene.
Themes of rebellion against established authority was present in many Rock and Roll songs,
Including the 1954 Bill Hailey and His Comets’ ‘Rock Around the Clock’.
The era also saw rise to stardom of Elvis Presley the teen heartthrob.
Meeting the youthful aspirations with his songs like ‘Jailhouse Rock’!
I recall the lyrics of this 1957 film ‘Jailhouse Rock’ of my school days, which had featured the youth icon Elvis:
   “The Warden threw a party in the county jail,
     The prison band was there and they began to wail.
     The band was jumping and the joint began to sing,
     You should’ve heard them knocked-out jail bird sing.
     Let’s rock, everybody in the whole cell block……………
     Spider Murphy played the tenor saxophone,
     Little Joe was blowing the slide trombone.
     The drummer boy from Illinois went crash, boom, bang!
     The whole rhythm section was the Purple Gang,
      Let's rock,.................... (Lyrics of the song.)

Rock and Roll music began to tear down color barriers, and Afro-
American musicians like Chuck Berry and Little Richard became
very popular!
Now I must caution my readers that thousands of feature films got  released during this eventful decade in Hollywood.
To cover them all within this limited space becomes an impossible
task, which may kindly be understood !
However, I shall try to do so in a summarized form as best as I could.

BOX OFFICE HITS YEAR-WISE FROM 1950 To 1959 :
Top Ten Year-Wise hit films chronologically are: Cinderella (1950),
Quo Vadis, The Greatest Show on Earth, Peter Pan, Rear Window,
Lady and the *****, Ten Commandments, Bridge on the River
Kwai, South Pacific, and Ben-Hur of 1959.

However Taking The Entire Decade Of 1950s Collectively,
The Top Films Get Rated As Follows Respectively:
The Ten Commandments, followed by Lady and the *****, Peter Pan, Sleeping Beauty, Bridge on the River Kwai, Around the World in Eighty Days, This is Cinerama, The Greatest Show on Earth, Rear Window, South Pacific, The Robe, Giant, Seven Wonders of the World, White Christmas, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Sayonara, Demetrius and the Gladiator, Peyton Place, Some Like It Hot, Quo Vadis, and Auntie Mame.

Film Debuts By Rising Stars During The 1950s :
The decade of the ‘50s saw a number of famous film stars making
their first appearance.
There was Peter Sellers in ‘The Black Rose’, Marlon Brando in
‘The Men’, and actress Sophia Loren in ‘Toto Tarzan’.
Following year saw Charles Bronson in ‘You Are in the Navy Now’,
Audrey Hepburn in ‘Our Wild Oats’, and Grace Kelly, the future
Princess of Monaco, in her first film ‘Fourteen Hours’. (1951)
While **** Brigitte Bardot appeared in 1952 movie ‘Crazy for Love’; and 1953 saw Steve Mc Queen in ‘******* The Run’.
Jack Lemon, Paul Newman, and Omar Sharif featured in films
during 1954.
The following year saw Clint Eastwood, Shirley Mc Lean, Walter
Matthau, and Jane Mansfield, all of whom the audience adored.
The British actor Michael Cain appeared in 1956; also Elvis Presley
the youth icon in ‘Love Me Tender’ and as the future Rock and Roll
King!
In 1957 came Sean Connery, followed by Jack Nicholson, Christopher Plummer, and Vanessa Redgrave.
While the closing decade of the ‘50s saw James Coburn, along with
director, script writer, and producer Steven Spielberg, make their
debut appearance.

Deaths During The 1950s: This decade also saw the death of actors
like Humphrey Bogart, Tyron Power and Errol Flynn.
Including the death of producer and director of epic movies the
renowned Cecil B. De Mille!
Though I have conclude the Golden Age of Hollywood with the 50’s Decade,
The glitz and glamour of its Oscar Awards continue even to this day.
With its red carpet and lighted marquee appeal and fashion display!

CONTINUING THE HOLLYWOOD STORY WITH FEW TITBITS :
From Fort Lee of New Jersey we have travelled west to Hollywood,
California.
From the silent movie days to the first ‘talking picture’ with Warren
Bros’ film ‘The Jazz Singer’.  (06 Oct 1927)
On 31st July 1928 for the first time the audience heard the MGM’s
mascot Leo’s mighty roar!
While in July 1929 Warren Bros’ first all-talking and all- Technicolor
Film appeared titled - ‘On With The Show’.
Austrian born Hedy Lamarr shocked the audience appearing **** in a Czechoslovak film ‘Ecstasy’!  (1933)
She fled from her husband to join MGM, becoming a star of the
‘40s and the ‘50s.
The ‘Private Life of Henry VII’ became the first British film to win the  American Academy Award.  (1933)
On 11Dec 1934, FOX released ‘Bright Eyes’ with Shirley Temple,
who became the first Child artist to win this Award!
While in 1937 Walt Disney released the first full animated feature
film titled - ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarf ‘.
The British film director Alfred Hitchcock who came to
Hollywood later;
Between 1940 and 1947, made great thrillers like 'Rebecca', ‘Notorious’, ‘Rear Window’, and ‘Dial M for ******’.
But he never won an Oscar as a Director!

THE GOLDEN GLOBE AWARD:
This award began in 1944 by the Foreign Correspondence Association at
the 20th Century Fox Studio.
To award critically acclaimed films and television shows, by awarding a
Scroll initially.
Later a Golden Globe was made on a pedestal, with a film strip around it.
In 1955 the Cecil B. De Mille Award was created, with De Mille as its first
recipient.

THE GRAMMY AWARD:
In 1959 The National Academy of Recording and Sciences sponsored the
First Grammy Award for music recorded during 1958.
When Frank Sinatra won for his album cover ‘Only The Lonely’, but he
did not sing.
Among the 28 other categories there was Ella Fitzgerald, and Count Basie
for his musical Dance Band Performance.
There was Kingston Trio’s song ‘Tom Dooly’, and the ‘Chipmunk Song’,
which brings back nostalgic memories of my school days!

CONCLUDING HOLLYWOOD STORY  WITH STUDIOS OF THE 1950s

Challenge Faced by the Movie Industry:
Now the challenge before the Movie Industry was how to adjust to the
rapidly changing conditions created by the growing TV Industry.
Resulting in loss of revenue, with viewers getting addicted to
their Domestic TV screen most conveniently!

The late 1950s saw two studios REPUBLIC and the RKO go out of business!
REPUBLIC from 1935- ‘59 based in Los Angeles, developed the careers of
John Wayne and Roy Rogers, and specializing in the Westerns.
RKO was one of the Big Five Studios of Hollywood along with Paramount,
MGM, 20th Century Fox, and Warner Brothers in those days.

RKO Studio which begun with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in the ‘30s,
included actress Katherine Hepburn who holds the record for four Oscars
even to this day;
And later had Robert Mitchum and Carry Grant under an agreement.
But in 1948, RKO Studio came under the control Howard Hughes the
temperamental Industrialist.
Soon the scandal drive and litigation prone RKO Studio closed, while
other Big Four Studios had managed to remain afloat!


PARAMOUNT STUDIO:
Paramount Studio split into two separate companies in 1950.
Its Theatre chain later merged with ABC Radio & Television Network;
And they created an independent Production/Distribution Network.
Bing Crosby and Bob Hope had been Paramount’s two biggest stars.
Followed by actors like Alan Ladd, William Holden, Jerry Lewis, Dean
Martin, Charlton Heston, and Dorothy Lamour.
They also had the producer/director Cecil B. De Mille producing high-
grossing Epics like ‘Samson & Delilah’ and ‘The Ten Commandments’.
Also the movie maker Hal Wallis, who discovered Burt Lancaster and
Elvis Presley - two great talents!

20th CENTURY FOX:
Cinema Scope became FOX’s most successful technological innovation
with its hit film ‘The Robe’. (1953)
Its Darryl Zanuck had observed during the early ‘50s, that audience  
were more interested in escapist entertainments mainly.
So he turned to FOX to musicals, comedies, and adventure stories.
Biggest stars of FOX were Gregory Peck & Susan Hayward; also
stars like Victor Mature, Anne Baxter, and Richard Wind Mark.
Not forgetting Marilyn Monroe in her Cinema Scope Box Office hit
movie - ‘How to Marry a Millionaire’, which was also shown on
prime time TV, as a romantic comedy film of 1953.

WARREN BROTHERS:
During 1950 the studio was mainly a family managed company with
three brothers Harry, Albert, and Jack Warren.
To meet the challenges of that period, Warren Bros. released most of
its actors like James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart, Oliver de Havilland, -
Along with few others from their long-term contractual commitments;
Retaining only Errol Flynn, and Ronald Regan who went on to become
the future President.
Like 20th Century Fox, Warren Bros switched to musicals, comedies,
and adventure movies, with Doris Day as its biggest musical star.
The studio also entered into short term agreements with Gary Copper,
John Wayne, Gregory Peck, Patricia Neal, and Random Scott.
Warren Bros also became the first major studio to invest in 3-D
production of films, scoring a big hit with its 3-D  suspense thriller
‘House of Wax’ in 1953.

MINOR STUDIOS were mainly three, - United Artists, Columbia, and
The Universal.
They did not own any theatre chain, and specialized in low-budgeted
‘B’ Movies those days.
Now to cut a long story short it must be said, that Hollywood finally
did participate in the evolution of Television industry, which led to
their integration eventually.
Though strategies involving hardware development and ownership of
broadcast outlets remained unsuccessful unfortunately.
However, Hollywood did succeed through program supply like prime-
time series, and made-for-TV films for the growing TV market making
things more colorful!
Thus it could be said that the TV industry provided the film industry
with new opportunities,  laying the groundwork for its diversification
and concentration;
That characterized the entertainment industry during the latter half  
of our previous century.
I must now confess that I have not visited the movie theatre over the last
two decades!
I watch movies on my big screen TV and my Computer screen these days.
Old classical movies are all available on ‘You Tube’ for me, and I can watch
them any time whenever I am free!
Thanks for reading patiently, - Raj Nandy.
**ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR RAJ NANDY OF NEW DELHI
Zeeb Jul 2015
Hotrod
Verse I

Wrenches clanging, knuckles banging
A drop of blood the young man spilt
A new part here, and old part… there
A hotrod had been built!
A patchwork, mechanical, quilt

Feeling good.  Head under a raised hood, hands occupied, the job nearing completion.  Sometimes the good feelings would dissipate though, as quickly as they came, as he cursed himself for stripping a bolt, or cursed someone else for selling him the wrong part, or the engineer whose design goals obviously did not consider “remove and replace”.
He cursed the “gorilla” that never heard of a torque-wrench, the glowing particle of **** that popped on to the top of his head as he welded, the metal chip he flushed from his eye, and even himself for the burn he received by impatiently touching something too soon after grinding. 
 He, and his type, cursed a lot, but mostly to their selves as they battled-on with things oily, hot, bolted, welded, and rusty – in cramped spaces. One day it was choice words for an “easy-out” that broke off next to a broken drill bit that had broken off in a broken bolt, that was being drilled for an easy-out. 
  Despite the swearing, the good and special feelings would always return, generally of a magnitude that exceeded the physical pain and mental frustration of the day, by a large margin.  
Certifiably obsessive, the young man continued to toil dutifully, soulfully, occasionally gleefully, sometimes even expertly, in his most loved and familiar place, his sanctuary, laboratory… the family garage.

And tomorrow would be the day.
With hard learned, hard earned expertise and confidence - in this special small place, a supremely happy and excited young man commanded his creation to life.

Threw a toggle, pressed a switch
Woke up the neighbors with that *******

The heart of his machine was a stroked Chevy engine that everyone had just grown sick hearing about.  Even the local machine shop to which the boy nervously entrusted his most prized possession had had enough.  “Sir, I don’t want to seem disrespectful, but from what I’ve read in Hot Rod Magazine, you might be suggesting a clearance too tight for forged pistons…” then it would be something else the next day.  
One must always speak politely to the machinist, and even though he always had, the usual allotment of contradictions and arguments afforded to each customer had long run out – and although the shop owner took a special liking to the boy because, as he liked to say, “he reminds me of me”, well, that man was done too.  But in the end, the mill was dead-on.  Of course from the start, the shop knew it would be; that’s almost always the case; it’s how they stay in business - simply doing good work.  Bad shops fall out quickly, but this place had the look of times gone by.  Good times. 
 Old porcelain signs, here and there were to be found, all original to the shop and revered by the older workers in honored nostalgia.  The younger workers get it too; they can tell from the co-workers they respect and learn from, there is something special about this past.  One sign advertises Carter Carburetors and the artwork depicts “three deuces”, model 97’s, sitting proudly atop a flathead engine, all speeding along in a red, open roadster.  Its occupants, a blond haired boy with slight freckles (driver), and a brunette girl passenger, bright white blouse, full and buttoned low. They are in the wind-blown cool, their excited expressions proclaim… "we have escaped and are free!" (and all you need is a Carter, or three).  How uniquely American.

The seasoned old engine block the boy entrusted to the shop cost him $120-even from the boneyard.  Not a bad deal for a good high-nickel content block that had never had its first 0.030”overbore.  In the shop, it was cleaned, checked for cracks by "magnafluxing", measured and re-measured, inspected and re-inspected.  It was shaped and cut in a special way that would allow the stroker crankshaft, that was to be the special part of this build, to have all the clearance it would need.  The engine block was fitted with temporary stress plates that mimic the presence of cylinder heads,  then the cylinders were bored to “first oversize”,  providing fresh metal for new piston rings to work against.  New bearings were installed everywhere bearings are required.  Parts were smoothed here and there.  Some surfaces were roughened just so, to allow new parts to “work-into each other” when things are finally brought together.  All of this was done with a level of precision and attention far, far greater than the old “4- bolt” had ever received at the factory on its way to a life of labor in the ¾ ton work van from which it came, and for which it had served so dutifully.  They called this painstaking dedication to precision measurement and fit, to hitting all specifications on the mark, “blueprinting”, and it would continue throughout the entire build of this engine.  The boy remained worried, but the shop had done it a million times.

After machining, the block was filled with new and strong parts that cost the young man everything he had.   Parts selected with the greatest of effort, decision, and debate.   You can compromise on paint and live with some rust,  he would say, wait for good tires, but never scrimp on the engine.  Right on.  Someone taught the boy right, regardless of whether or not he fully understood the importance of the words he parroted.  His accurate proclamation  also provided ample excuse for the rough, unfinished, underfunded look of the rest of his machine.  But it was just a look, his car was, in fact, “right”.   And its power plant?  Well the machine shop had talked their customer into letting them do the final engine assembly - even cut their price to do it.  To make that go down easy, they asked to have two of their shop decals affixed to the rod on race-days.  The young man thought that was a fair deal, but the shop was really just looking out for the boy, with their herring of sorts.  
The mill in its final form was the proper balance of performance and durability; and with its camshaft so carefully selected, the engine's “personality” was perfectly matched to the work at hand.   It would produce adequate torque in the low RPM range to get whole rig moving quickly, yet deliver enough horsepower near and at red-line to pile on the MPH, fast.  No longer a polite-natured workhorse, this engine, this engine is impatient now.  High compression, a rapid, choppy idle - it seems to be biting at the bit to be released.  On command, it gulps its mixture and screams angrily, and often those standing around have a reflexive jump - the louder, the better - the more angry, the better.  If it hurts your ears, that’s a good feeling.  If its bark startles, that’s a good startle.  A cacophony?  No, the “music” of controlled explosions, capable of thrusting everything and everyone attached, forward, impolitely, on a rapid run to the freedom so well depicted in the ad.  

This is the addictive sound and feel that has appealed to a certain type of person since engines replaced horses, and why?  A surrogate voice for those who are otherwise quiet?  A visceral celebration of accomplishment?    Who cares.  Shift once, then again - speed quickly makes its appearance.  It appears as a loud, rushing wind and a visually striking, unnatural view of the surrounding scenery.  At some point, in the sane, it triggers a natural response - better slow down.    

He uncorked the headers, bought gasoline, dropped her in gear, tore off to the scene
Camaros and Mustangs, an old ‘55
Obediently lined-up, to get skinned alive!

Verse II (1st person)

I drove past the banner that said “Welcome race fans” took a new route, behind the grandstands
And through my chipped window, I thought I could see
Some of the racers were laughing at me

I guess rust and primer are not to their taste
But I put my bucks mister in the right place

I chugged/popped past cars that dealers had sold
Swung into a spot, next to something old

Emerging with interest from under his hood
My neighbor said two words, he said, “sounds good”

The Nova I parked next to was “classic rodding” in its outward appearance.  The much overused “primer paint job”.  The hood and front fenders a fiberglass clamshell, pinned affair.  Dice hanging from the mirror paid homage to days its driver never knew, but wished he had.  He removed them before he drove, always.

If you know how to peel the onion, secrets are revealed.  Wilwood brake calipers can be a dead giveaway. Someone needs serious stopping power - maybe.  Generally, owners who have sprung the bucks for this type gear let the calipers show off in bright red, to make a statement, and sometimes, these days, it’s just a fashion statement.  Expensive calipers, as eye candy, seem to be all the rage.  What is true, however, is very few guys spend big money on brakes only to render them inglorious and seemingly common with a shot of silver paint from a rattle can - and the owner of this half fiberglass racer that poses as a street car had done just that.  I'll glean two things from this observation. One, he needs those heavy brakes because he’s fast, and two, hiding them fits his style.  
Really, the message to be found in the silver paint, so cleverly applied to make your eyes simply slide across on their way to more interesting things, was “sleeper”.   And sleeper really means, he’s one of those guys with a score to settle - with everyone perhaps.   The list of “real parts” grew, if you knew where to look.  Looking was something I had unofficial permission to do since my rod was undergoing a similar scrutiny.  
“Stroked?”, I asked.  That’s something you can’t see from the outside. “ No”, my racer friend replied.  
“Hundred shot?”  (If engines have their language, so do the people who love them).   Despite the owner’s great efforts to conceal braided fuel and nitrous lines, electrical solenoids and switches, I spied his system.  The chunks of aluminum posing as ordinary spacers under his two Holly's were anything but.   “No”, was his one-word reply to my 100- shot question.  I tried again; “Your nitrous system is cleanly installed, how much are you spraying?”  “Two hundred fifty” in two stages, he said.  That’s more like it, I thought, and I then figured, he too had budgeted well for the machine shop – if not, he was gambling in a game that if lost, would soon fly parts in all directions.   Based on the overall neat work on display, I believed his build was up to the punishment planned. 
  I knew exactly what this tight-lipped guy was about, seeing someone very familiar in him as it were, and that made the “sounds good” complement I received upon my arrival all the more valuable.  I liked my neighbor.  And I liked the fact of our scratch-built rods having found each other - and I looked forward to us both dusting off the factory jobs.  It was going to be a good day.

The voice on the loudspeaker tells us we’re up.

Pre-staged, staged, then given the green
The line becomes blurred between man and machine

Bones become linkage
Muscle, spring
Fear, excitement

Time distorts ….
Color disappears …
Vision narrows…
Noise ---  becomes music
Speed, satisfaction

End
Jonathan Witte Mar 2017
Nine years and still
we cradle our grief
carefully close,
like groceries
in paper bags.

Eventually the milk
will make its way
into the refrigerator;
the canned goods
will find their home
on pantry shelves.

Most things find
their proper place.

Eventually the hummingbirds
will ricochet against scorched air,
their delicate beaks stabbing
like needles into the feeder filled
with red nectar on the back porch.

Eventually our child
will make her way
back to us. Perhaps.

But I’ve heard
that shooting
****** feels
like being
buried under
an avalanche
of cotton *****.

For now it’s another
week, another month,
another trip to Safeway.

We drive home and wonder
why it is always snowing.
Behind a curtain of snow,
brake lights pulse, turning
the color of cotton candy,
dissolving into ghosts.

And with each turn,
the groceries shift
in the seat behind us.
From the spot where
our daughter used to sit,
there is a rustling sound—

a murmur of words
crossed off yet another list,
a language we’ve budgeted
for but cannot afford to hear.
ME Sep 2013
Bowing into submission for the glory of a previous age, negating the present and future in the hollow name of pride.*

Once there was a country, “oh, what *******”, surely you must be thinking, yet, there once was a country. I will tell you about this country, though it shall remain the Unnamed Stand Alone. Like a woman you just met, she just told you her name, but while she was busy spelling out Candy, you were already hiking.

This country. The country of which, Candy was part. How else could you trail her glorious hills and conquer the mountaintop? Aside from the mountain this country offered a lot of things, it was the sole presenter of Liberty and Justice. Everything: bigger, better, stronger, sexier, bigger, better, bigger, better. It was downright incredible, the sheer greatness of this god destined country was the sheer wealth and population, given the road to finance and expend both men and material to the never-ending war, in their backyard, a cemetery of countrymen, all dying for different causes; freedom, revenge, rights, justice, money, territory, sovereignty, fear or even hope. Who knows why anybody fights anybody, did the past generation say the same, were they also innocent bystanders, not unlike ourselves, perhaps not so innocent, perhaps, neither are we, perhaps.

Where as all things were, and all things are, we have one constant; War. Ah yes, how delightful. Bombs, planes, guns and tanks. Bloodbaths and murders on women and children, from both sides of all participating spectrums, but who cares right. From pillage to plunder we came, to … to… Well to what exactly have we come? A highly developed, super organized, black budgeted mega state who controls its own, dominates the rest and yet continues to **** and ******, pillage and plunder. All a necessary evil to take charge of the wondrous and constantly elusive freedom.

Ah yes, freedom, such a nice word, it should ring bells in utopia and the city of dreams. Perhaps freedom is the country where those reside, who knows, maybe the doctor, then again, he might put you on prescription pills, what do you do? Run? Stay? Get an abortion? Good luck Candy, Yes oh yes, freedom, justice, revenge, money, whatever the cause might be, I am sure glad that there are no black clouds since the war was won, at least till the next one pops up, like a casino ad on the internet, “Never mind the old war son, the new one has begun”; ‘Aah, the soothing words of my faux grandpa – the old man on the corner named Bill, an old hippie who watched Nixon push the national guard on those hippy ****. It was only natural, not to mention in the name of.. of.. What name was it in again? I forget, so do you I guess?

Now, where were we? The Mojave dessert, this sure is some funky stuff, I just wish we had more of that snow, now we’re all wearing… Wait, wrong story there.

Aha, back on track, sometimes this machine bents me all out of shape, it’s as if I don’t recognize my own voice when I listen to the things I say, I could blame the T.V. but its my friend, I just wished it sometimes would tell me about the dumb **** I am about to ‘say, see or do’, but it doesn’t, like a real friend. Instead of going running, we hang out. Instead of eating at the table, I eat with TV, come to think of it, I see TV, Sleep TV, Think TV, Buy TV, Consume TV, heck I even Live TV, “Man TV, our relationship has really grown to become this weird ****** up thing, and I never noticed”, how about that.

So, while the wars go on, and the presidents are replaced with never, more appealing actors than their predecessors, me and the all unnamed home-grown sit and await the coming boom, the presentation of yet another, more devastating weapon than the one before. For fun I go see Candy, or TV.  We wait till the fight is over, to celebrate whatever we are fighting for and our victory, blissfully ignorant of the fact that we just robbed someone else of exactly that. Bent out of shape,
With no real family, other than the strange old man, who seems to understand down on the corner.
I guess its because he’s the only one who’s been here long enough who actively remembers to forget and not forget to remember like the rest. It is for these reasons, but not those alone, that I beg of the land I have once known, to get to your senses, reclaim the power, don’t believe the man in the suit for he is not one of ours, he is not; A man of the faceless crowd
Ariel Baptista May 2016
Amethyst and evaporating
Counting down the seven days before
I disappear again;
Dissolve into a shooting star
And lose myself along the fractured horizon
Bleeding white tea
Drowning in debt and memory
Elegant, apathetic, re-shattered
Remembering.

I pull the summer back up over my face
Like white sheets so quietly in the morning
Sunlight streams in
The beams crosshatch our scavenged posters and prints
The home we built ourselves
Slowly etherized, erased
Reduced to amethyst and onward.

Stretch out the time and I will spend it gladly
Budgeted and rationed beautifully
One year boils down to seven days
And here is how I count them out:
Sitting on couches wrapped up in rainbow blankets,
Throw pillows
I chart these days on a map;
Meticulous.
One by one they follow each other in perfect order
Like stupid wandering sheep
Progressive
Blinded and bleating ****** ******
Numbered, they lull me to sleep
Sweet seven of them

These days I count in wine glasses
I count them in hours and smiles and tears
Every second of my battered year
Counted like clouds on the spring lilac sky-scape
Days counted down in popcorn kernels and ice cream cones
In laughlines and scars, in lavender scones
And showers and trips to the gym and dishes in the sink
I count my days in vanilla candles and scratched records
And papers and poems and midterms and paintings
Polaroid photos and the deep breaths we take between moments
I counted every moment
But now it’s amethyst and over.

Purple like the city skyline in the spring sunset light
Jasmine, indigo, magenta
And you and I
Our apartment
White walls we plastered in memory
All the homes I never had blurred together
Filtered through this glass prism
And projected in progression
Here is violet
Here is vanishing rapidly
With what velocity the end races towards us
Another melting mauve goodbye to add to my resume of heartbreaks
Strong scent of hot magnolias
We lay maudlin in burgundy wine
And purple rain.
I sit hurting how I always do
Mourning like death’s an opportunity
Mourning like I’ve already moved on
How it cuts me to go
How it’d break me to stay
This amethyst year so sharp and sparkling
It scraped and stained me
Left me shades of purple like our night sky shining
With constellations overlapping
Loved and loathed in suffocating lavender limelight
The winds whisper only of how I adore you all
I so adore you.
This is who I am for seven days
And just only seven
Here we are gemstones,
Dissipating salty starmatter
Fleeting amethyst crystals
Evaporating into oblivion.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2015
I am not a number
I am not a cypher.
I am a real live person
Not a hypothetical one.
I am part of a portion
Of the total population
Not an ignorable thing
Only fit for eliminating
If it suits a demographic,
Budgeted body politic;
Something looked upon
As something better gone.
By some venal banker,
Number crunching ******.

I matter.
Please remember I’m real
And the turning of the wheel
Might make you a rich man
But your carefully worded plan
Might crush me underneath.
Is this what you bequeath
To the society that bore you?
Is it the proper thing to do?

I am not a figure, a jot.
A squiggle on a page, not
Some negotiable loss
Decided upon by a boss
Who wants a higher bonus
Jettisoning an onus
Foisted on him by liberals.
My problems are not literal,
They are real and due
To be looked through
For a way to be humane
In matters mundane,
And not as profitable.
Don’t be despicable.

I matter.
Please remember I’m real
And the turning of the wheel
Might make you a rich man
But your carefully worded plan
Might crush me underneath.
Is this what you bequeath
To the society that bore you?
Is it the proper thing to do?

Talk to your accountants
And see what the amount is
To do things for fiscal gain
Without causing people pain.
There has to be a way
We can all have our day;
Our place in the sun
Things good for one
That are also good for all
And don’t cause a fall
In the economy and health
For those without wealth.
If the rich lose big gains
They will still eat again,
But the poor just may not
With what little they’ve got.

I matter.
Please remember I’m real
And the turning of the wheel
Might make you a rich man
But your carefully worded plan
Might crush me underneath.
Is this what you bequeath
To the society that bore you?
Is it the proper thing to do?
Laz Farrell Feb 2018
Can’t get my head round the email
“Help me get it right”
“It’s why you do what you do”
“What you do best”
“This will wipe out the opposition”
After much soul searching he took the role
A fugitive who lives with an urban family
An honest story that comments on our times
Or an expensive risk?
It’s a case in point
I could tell you stories you couldn’t print.

A deal was made
Much needed publicity
This one can’t miss
A sure fire winner
Lavishly budgeted?
Almost everything was shot at the ranch....
I Remember the poster in the foyer
“The Goal of the assassin”
“Two ****** hours”
Initially the subject of media ridicule
An eyesore trashed traded or hauled away
Luckily fast forgotten
It died a humiliating death
Helen Raymond Feb 2018
More often than not my machinations are little more than fragmented ruminations and disjointed alliterations

Occasionally preoccupied by rhyme, reason, or cravings for another season

Color and light dancing against the doodles left dog-eared among the daily drudgery crowding my deliberations

Purposefully thinking my thoughts more thoughtfully in these days of superficiality and commercialized faux reality

Deliberate silences budgeted between listless noise. On days when everyone's vying for vocal real estate & everyone's talking with nothing to say.. I take a fast from my voice.

I withdraw from myself, deep within my mind.. I attempt to reconcile with that girl I was -forgive myself for letting her leave again. How can I come back to her after what we've been? I've lied to her too many times for her to let me back in.
Bella Isaacs Oct 2022
These days in budgeted decadence
You twist on your thrifted finery
And leave me to mine own
You are children marching the cobblestones
Like soldiers into lines that you know very
Little of, together and alone
Collective and individual struggles fought
Black coffee for the morning
Ethanol for some inky hour after twelve
None of your souls have been bought
Yet, and I hope they won't in the true dawning
From the cutting of the safety net, may you delve
Into futures sufficient and abundant,
All ye heirs apparent.
Aile Sep 2016
The words are gone, the parties cracked glowsticks spilling their blood on the sidewalk.
The minutes that felt all mine, personal, a glove around space-time that I dictated -

now they’re standardized to measure the effects of real disparities in theoretical constructs.

But my fingers twitch, my teeth find skin, the coffee keeps coming but the world doesn’t slow.
And someday I’ll LOSE IT and bike naked through my new streets and claim it all back, the dark spangled world I used to inhabit, that evaporated in the false lights of the city.

Give me back the yellowed bricks and the pensive dizzy walks home. Running through the forest with the vultures up ahead and the cracked pavement underfoot, woods rising like spectres, autumn crackling on all sides, loneliness lifting up my steps and fog curling around my neck. The songs all say the cities are exciting but the outskirts are alive, the outer places plead, they love you with a desperation those glutted urbanities won’t understand.

They’ll call us home someday. That dark earth, the gnarled tree. Empty fields and brick-husk-buildings will welcome us with fireflies and curving mist and the quiet dramatics lost to the souls beating their spreadsheet hearts, with space budgeted x for family and y for ******* and the bullet-to-the-heart z (complacence). They’ll call us home, remind us the world is made of ghosts, the bones of trees, the bodies of clay, and the dust of flowers. That bluebird chirping is the only true sound you’ll ever hear. The pine needles and the wind are saying something important, and I live in a world of windowpanes! The fog is lifting, the sun is rising, and all the ghosts are going home. The waterfalls keep falling, but they fade from memory. The rocks jut towards the heavens, just as always, but my appreciation fades. Now I’m left -
Simon Soane Jul 2020
So I wake up & think,
"Ohh, a message on Whatsapp,
I'll check that baby later,
for that nourish I will cater,
hmm outside it looks mild,
take your time Si, punctuality is the last reserve of the boring, said Oscar Wilde.
But you don't want to get the "where have you been" glare & the "I've been sat here for ages" stare."
So I gather my sleepy head with all my power,
get my work game on & hit the shower.
As I cleanse my skin layer by layer I ponder,
"hmm, have I got enough juice in my MP3 player to see me through on the 192?"
I scrub quickly in a ******* sigh,
"oh oh oh fuckkkkk! Si, you've got shower gel in your eye!"
All my thoughts of enough walking music to hurl me up the road are lost in my optic feeling like it's going to explode.
"It hurts! It hurts! ******* vanilla & raspberry,
is the cyclopitic pain really necessary?".
I now don't have time for thoughts of on time hurry
if I'm going blind or not is now my greatest worry.
The stupid anxieties vanish
in minutes of strife,
like they do in real life,
I don't think I'll care that I haven't budgeted for pre payday weekend beer if I get a call saying
you're not here,
& from what I know you disappear.
Not to dwell on what grief does loom,
you & me right now sail through the future gloom;
you're the best of the best
never stop,
I love you
I love you
I love you lots.
This soapy grip on my eye starts to ease,
anxious not
in the July breeze.
I wore a very serious look like a tempered dog
Moved down to the shelve and picked a few items,
Little time had been budgeted for the location.
In a rush, I felt a hand passing over my head,
I turned at once and looked.
Mother Nature had stripped naked
A Painted face from lashes to neck
A straight chest like that of a model
Curved body not comparable to mannequins
Less to say like a drained princess
An age determined by closeness
Sounding with a soft pitch…’’I take the blame”.
I immediately nodded to the Y-axis
Wondering if the devil had come
To warn me about death.
For this time I wished I had Gods number
To book or even subscribe for a creation,
One of a kind who looked younger
Than its creation.
Dashing out priceless smiles that captured the
Attention of the by passers, it so happens
That originals really shine for ages.
just moments ago, a dawning realization
     arose within this sol son begat
from ma late mother
     and octogenarian widower father,
     oh..no nothing cat

tuss strophic, boot merely the revelation,
     how fist bumping dee clocks hour hand ahead
     remembered by dat
dog gone refrain spring ahead, and fall back,

     this unemployed chap doth down play eclat
attests that his quotidian schedule minimally effected
     holed up here in Highland Manor named flat
roomy enough for thyself, the Missus,

     and buzzfeed ding fruit flies
     each approximately the size of a gnat
a minor nuisance, though tolerable
     within this appealing habitat

where minor inconvenience experienced
     by this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania resident
cuz as a recipient of social security disability
     (social anxiety) this psyche didst get rent

which fixed (unearned) income budgeted
     and predominantly costs of living money spent
hence no need to arise bright tailed and bushy eyed,
     a freedom akin to folks camped out in a tent,

which exemption immunizes
     this doodle ling middle aged
     muddle brained chap subject ranting
     early morning drivers,

     who angrily rant and vent  
thus, the tendency, piquancy, and lunacy
     to twitter (for the Yardbirds),
     and keep company with night owls, who went

a hooting for all the world wide web
     to hear, whence dawgs Bach
the exact number of hours, yer oblivious
     to the tight rigorous mortised schedule
     manned by Mister Clock,

essentially foisting on Bread Winners,
     an abstract artificial construct spurring
     madcap commuters to scurry in the rat race,
     lest tardiness could cost

     more than paycheck
     (to ap pier with permanent dock
hue ment aye shun),
     an unwonted blot add hoc
king worry about getting canned -

     i.e. on permanent furlough,
     perhaps forced into a life of crime, yet if caught...
wasting away in a jail cell
     as warden turns the lock

one redeeming factor,
     would offer opportunity to mock
management, and more pertinently
     mandate to rock
and roll to the incessant muted,
     yet devastatingly loud tick tock.
Pinch here
spend there
everything way fine
until it all froze

I had budgeted
one more week
one more amount
that never came

Better job
Sell a house
All because
what I promised wasn't there

"Your lazy"
"Not good enough"
"Not trying"
but how can I try

when my government failed me
just because they want to yell at each other
instead of helping those
with a penny to our name
Simon Soane Jul 2019
So I wake up & think,
"Ohh, a message on Whatsapp,
I'll check that baby later,
for that nourish I will cater,
hmm outside it looks mild,
take your time Si, punctuality is the last reserve of the boring, said Oscar Wilde.
But you don't want to get the "where have you been" glare & the "I've been sat here for ages" stare."
So I gather my sleepy head with all my power,
get my work game on & hit the shower.
As I cleanse my skin layer by layer I ponder,
"hmm, have I got enough juice in my MP3 player to see me through on the 192?"
I scrub quickly in a ******* sigh,
"oh oh oh fuckkkkk! Si, you've got shower gel in your eye!"
All my thoughts of enough walking music to hurl me up the road are lost in my optic feeling like it's going to explode.
"It hurts! It hurts! ******* vanilla & raspberry,
is the cyclopitic pain really necessary?".
I now don't have time for thoughts of on time hurry
if I'm going blind or not is now my greatest worry.
The stupid anxieties vanish
in minutes of strife,
like they do in real life,
I don't think I'll care that I haven't budgeted for pre payday weekend beer if I get a call saying
you're not here,
& from what I know you disappear.
Not to dwell on what grief does loom,
you & me right now sail through the future gloom;
you're the best of the best
never stop,
I love you
I love you
I love you lots.
This soapy grip on my eye starts to ease,
anxious not
in the July breeze.
Vernarth's term overage was not exhaustive, as Vernarth would return to Alikantus after his journey to Kanthillana for the Winter Solstice and Patmos in spring. He was collecting each time in the decantation of each corollary of texts, images, narrations, and epigraphs that were being deliberately written on the flames of the Apokálypsis. All the experiences of the tragic characters in Vernarth were embedded in the papyrological Datum once it was detached from the Dragon's snout. This result and action verse became the reconstruction of the cessation of a physical body, whose final living objective was to legitimize everything in which it was uniting in the nomenclature of written prosopography, advanced in all the roles of the ruler of their own history. parapsychological incorporated in its own self-analysis until reaching Everism that reconciles its mythology as something secondary to the Tragedy for all societies that evolve in a focused technocratic aspect and the rhetorical unsaying of attacking the world that was destroyed under a redoubled dose of anesthesia of the disgruntled ideological of being judged by the entire world as a being spawned in the papyrology of Pergamon in ruins. The visibility of him as an actor drags her with the vision of him asleep under hypnosis that allows him to combine the periods of antiquity more than six thousand years ago. C. allowing him to build a person from low to high visibility in a consequence where totalitarianism was exclusive to a millenary East, in pursuit of a nascent South America suffering from the birth of itself from the geological split 120 or 150 million years ago that did not they would be enough to bring about the consequences of Spílaiaus when he allows, hears and tells me to give him the world that only he had been chosen to live in.

Vernarth welcomes and obeys his command to divide N times as a normal body could run and fall into this current maelstrom that would take him throughout Greece, Judea, Central, and Eastern Europe, from a place of origin called Kanthillana which resists the intermodal phenomenon of quantum that would overwhelm him to the point where his entire genealogy would follow him wherever he went if need be. All this was mending and composing itself in those alternating impurities of some paradigm, reinstating the constitution of the random present of Greek mythology already alive in the blood that unites the same rivers that are born of a narrator, always disposed of in the eminence of inspiration either in Olympos, Profitis, Ophel, Kantillana or any tomb that constitutes the format of electric actual mobility where it distills rapidly at the speed of emotions that will always be directed by gods who feel it before they are received by a distant reader. The elaboration design of the works is spaced from the hand of the argument that sometimes tries to hold on to the runaway reins since they are commanded by real emotions provided by unknown forces, generating a great collision and incomprehensible data header for an eye or ear human that needs the neat pause to attend to the discretions that are intertwined and accelerate with solidified sources of extemporaneous mythology diverging from prosopography components of Literature Heritages Sites.

The chattering of the monuments will be of great superiority as an addition to the compiled history never told or narrated where it intertwines with two dissimilar, dissonant geographical zones, distant in such a way that they themselves react to a thunder of life, which makes up those zones that are individualized and inanimate as sources of multidimensional fervor, causing high-sounding narrative imbalances that at times were made as a great source of the power of what makes sense or what could mean at times that could continue progressing in the potential wealth of beings that were never geographically rooted in a system of use or group accent that could be immersed in the biography of that which has never been told, since there is no record. The information that is unknown could not be collected as well as a concept that survives the networks of a shipwreck of the passing of the centuries that run between even and odd centuries of today in the antiquity of the Middle Ages, however, all this traceability leaves us in micro spaces that are not perceptible, nor in the incorporation of chronicles that can be driven by the linear ordering method. Vernarth is in itself a precipitous advance, a quantum of dissimilar interests of civilizations that survive and will survive from where they were forged, perhaps integrating the second face of a life that manages to detach itself from the vital circle, to experiment with its canceled free will and redirect its life. revived canons of a new nuance that concelebrates within the face of an unknown character of prosopography; to the same one who imposes the laws of everything he should for each own individual having the opportune world of him that receives him lavishly.

After the seventh century, the phenomena of the Mediterranean between what simply promotes a turn of the page leaves the hemisphere of each empire more distant from the social phenomena that distinguish us once the stumble of generations cannot count what is not could mend in the subsequent generation. This is why Vernarth's hybrid containing allows you to travel between immemorial times, allowing you to store them and tolerate periods that do not fit the scale of all their wills deployed towards an administration that manages to revitalize their monuments and ally them with other geographical areas that could not strictly speak of the same contemporary, having taken more advantage of them. Such efforts would make a great providence and closeness of all the garments that represented suitable characters who are still looking in their wasteland for the true chronological process that should fit their conditions. Vernarth is a great enlargement of prosopography that he has or ambitions excessively, and that may heavenly tempt him to build vaults that can fit the figure of himself equivalent, of the libertine whims that could stipulate the crosses of the early and late periods, eager and differentiated for everything that could fit in a bunch of flowers like a bunch of verses that would be destined for the available that waits to be presented from the incorrupt mound of Olympus with the chain of being repeatedly presented in the Kanthillana before the god Spilaiaus.

The tool will allow the reconstruction of each elapsed period of time, which is exactly what the submithology intends, to return to live with the villagers who tend to trace their lines of traditions, customs, and much-needed etymology to revive the peripheral description where some manage to to be protagonists, leaving aside those who should be participants in silent actors that intends to expand the euphemism that is only revived in the courts of the emperor that is not even established in an ironclad draconian family monograph, as could be seen with the vast majority of the descendants of the Merovingians. The portrait tends to allocate budgets from the treasury of who should be the budget of the vast majority of true Labrador Hoplites as true ascendants of the great hidden treasure that will provide the eloquent looks of Medousa. This is how much of the vindication of cinnabar must have been established as a burial of many individuals from the Middle Ages in the vast majority of Europe to daub the bodies in sulfur or Cinnabar to try to keep them in the underworld with their entire body in linen shrouds or substitutes, and how to preserve or how to return to an organic chemical environment from which was the union of two beings when they engendered a being by the chemical explosion of a body in the autonomous cycle of procreation. Linguistic guidelines will undoubtedly make the entire Middle Ages the creation of a symbol of faith entrenched in unionized social spheres, made up of guilds of families that were never registered in a regime or corporation to supplement the lack of the Datum that in this work is It aims to decorate, uniting all classes, latitudes, and sectors that could well deserve complete the spaces that should have been executed by intercontinental clans, offering them a history that is part of their emblematic ancestor.

I would dare to name the Hoplithography, as the archaeological social fabric forging the question that establishes the Hoplites as sowing cultures of the significance of their prosopon of military body, contemplating further than all the nations of a way of life that probably would have been perhaps univocal to a pious being of the science that surrounds him, with the loneliness of a being that does not admit that he is overcome by science that submits to autonomous man such as Diogenes of Sinope or Archimedes who join an axial connection in the evidence of the senses, but in the Solstice of Sinope 412 a. C. specifically in the efforts of Vernarth to make them participate that the free man belonged to a Don who was more removed from his gaps of mistakes or successes since the free man was going to be imprisoned in the urn that joins him to his body and not to the illusion of your senses. The gates of truth or otherwise are just a few steps away from this Vernarth Tragedy that asks for a little hint of space-time movement. All the paradoxes that linear time will persevere in great calculation errors that could be an Aporia as speculative logic, followed by the fiction that exceeds reality where the paradoxes will be unresolved inconsistencies, essentially with what untimely arises from an indication of life in a common being that is related to quantum mutes as exhibited by the explosive Parapsychology or "Paraps" that are subdivided from the different scenarios of Aporías or enclaves of logic that are conjugated with the non-existent reality, given to the mechanics of Submythology of heroes, gods, and others coming back to life in a passage of time that is not explained in some expired history book that had more to tell than what its own ruins hid from the truth that could be told. This is a wealth of objectives that this Thesis proposes, to discover in the immensity of the unknown what was and could never be told, and that the past genetically survives in varieties of classes of organic species that continue to be assembled by worlds that tend to clear and rethink what any storyteller, philosopher, historian or archaeologist can interpret.

Physics is made of a servile space or instrument of the paradox, in such a way that the events point to reopen doors that are of the unknown History that could be part of a god that did not exist until the shelves documented him as part of a living culture associating it with its patterns of daily life, politics and the chores of common human life. It would be like the Arrow of Flight with Achilles, perhaps leaving a great inheritance to Alexander the Great in the dichotomy of how it would be Zefian by instituting the balance of the world with the geodesy of the world of Vernarth, not alluding in between the time that dictates it for its governance, but rather the cosmic heart that allows guessing where the thoughts will be directed more than the elliptical of ascent, and descent how far the arrow will arrive because even so whoever finds it will be of the mental times that elapse in different fractions as it is Parapsychology not moving, but more than the time that only moves where it is not or rests to give primary indications of intelligence in which thought must establish the concrete fact that everything takes place in its elliptical, but not in dissociated thought. Perhaps the singularity of this polished rule could show that this Paradox of Zeno that everything that exists could outline that the line that divides Achilles from Alexander the Great is the elliptical of thought because in the rhetoric of parapsychology there are no contradictions if it is that in the Dimension of Hellenic History find in it a distant today that communicates with this faction of the dimensional medium. The infinitesimal calculations of the Duoverse aim to link or reconcile what is being advanced in parallel in the mechanics of neuroscience, without the need to have practical scientific vestiges to determine what inhabits the intersection of a circle of quantum with respect to another that it occupies, a classic example of Vernarth when carrying out the flashing Kenósis of his Kli or Vessel that reunites his independent non-parallel lifelines, but that of belonging to a Hellenic trunk with the mathematics that exceeds infinitesimal numbers moving all the lamps of the Universe when both demi-gods walked through the relevant infinity.

Vernarth is a paradox that begins with the analysis of his initial "V" of Lacedaemon with the intention of traveling in supposed time, more remotely than a word can be subordinated to what could reconstruct an infinite regress, which is what will happen with the Apokálypsis in question where he is the threshold section of analysis of the genesis of this work in the Kanthillana, then with the reissue of the Medico in Piacenza by recognizing the constitution of the area that is more than what any specialist can understand; that is, much further from any speculative stealth before Vernarth or after that other prototypes could arise that are indirectly related to the concretion or invisibility of Non-Visible characters, but with the arrival of the submithology genre, its structure will generate conciliatory physical fields of what that he could never refer to or know if a beginning began when the end of the prototype of an invisible being was just being gestated. Perhaps the genesis of the world is a great paradox that was looking for the beginning of the end that manages to meet with a definitive beginning allied to that of an indivisible that indefinitely and infinitely creates micro spaces where time has no place, only physics links that overlap quantumly and represent the truth of purpose.
The argument goes beyond the linear narration that tends to describe who was or was, supplanting it in that of who will be and will be whenever the bonds of a timeless continuous reality remain in all assumptions. Here it is clear the axiom of the infinity of divisibility that is predisposed by an objective to achieve an unforeseen event that is forceful as much as it is likely to plan, from the Duoverse and its composition of everything including all the magnitudes and tendencies to his feet what will add up and will be charged with what has not been built or discovered making this hypothesis of the conceptual that displaces the historical because the conceptual occurred and occurred in outdated times not altering its objective since parapsychology in its infinity of regression will annex him in every Greek, Hebrew and Western dimension and latitude in an ancient world that will always be composed of addends that incorporate it into the Vernarthian World that in turn dares to challenge that the importance of the world of emotions are not part of the study of this Thesis of Literary Heritages Sites, as an infinite potential to achieve when the Apokalypsis is definitely triggered, prior to the ascension of the Vernarth when it leaves the Megaron and its living vibrating magnetic body. The regimes are not egalitarian with the fall of the determined slave democracy of 404 a. C. It could perfectly have been ruled, making the political destinies of an entire nation that is subjugated to attract and implement political and economic experience unclear, that those who would never be sustained by a regime determined by the inclusion of quantum paradoxes would be migrated more than any political-administrative order, which never led to the development of a new dawn of science of the infinite regressions of Parapsychology that unites everything multidimensionally.

The best choice is the equivalent of Prosopography, which results from an anomaly to the rule where Vernarth's Mythology regulates the organization of prosopography, claiming to demonstrate that there are gods who intercommunicate like Spilaiaus with Zeus, claiming to establish that what is going to happen is what that he wanted for his regency the prolongation of one mythology towards another, but without it being written but "Live" this is a postulate that Submythology proposes, substituting all the method rather experimenting for the superimposition of everything to the lesson of everything that is interconnected, although maintaining the univocal root that represents all the structural, cultural, historical and sociological components that intervene at times as an entity belonging to a reality of legends that border on the reality that must be preserved vividly. The compilation lists of Greek mythology is the product of enormous processes of years that have been developed in their territorial regions, a cultural union since Christianity displaced paganism from the year 391 AD. C. tormenting virgins and nascent creeds from a multi-paganism step that was based on the diversity of their daily lives to a universal expression that surpassed all excessive freedom or nullified free will that contended with the delicate slave democracy or dissuasive militarism based on the Oracles, who never had a real interpretation of what originated from a real god or nature that governed itself, rather than a god that questioned others that only individualized their own dramas to represent them to a god that pro-tradition that he freed them or condemned them to live at the expense of a Dramatis Personae. Here is the prosopography that with the well-formulated passage and sense of defining that the Ardors of the Drama make sense of being systematized from the gods of Olympus, but also in social stratifications in part to the worldview of their own ancestors to be the most faithful interpretive of the wealth that makes up the source that structures those of us who are not destined to be deities, but if we could exist before them with a recognized pattern in average reports that could be placed when Vernarth leaves the confused division of a body that will remain in the Iridescent Hydor of the Mashiaj or when the prophetic appearance of his Mother Luccica is sustained by such a portion of a physical world, rather totally petrified before the hecatomb or end of the world, generating in her a stony and inanimate being, but if sufficiently existing to define her new role in the universe "Ab Initio" of a general objective of uniting eternity of the competo of existing of unifying the geomorphological latitudes of mythological existence with other unknown vertical cultures (Submitology) and hypothetically pool the experience of the elements of the universe as a whole to empower roles among themselves. Then unify everything that can be narrated as an imminent truth to lavish it on those who could not exist at the same time, but rather describe it with the quantum channel, as it is here that Vernarth remains conjugated to his literature, history, theory, and quality of his speech. focused on a fully portrayed and defined system of Patio V of Hellenika as the Fifth Dimension as comparisons that are rationalized with space-time, geographic-chronology submerged in a theme of Political History as the axis of states that exert social change for numerous characters who recently there they come to life, as is the case of the new stage of Zacchaeus and the Sycomoro or Saint John the Evangelist in the Hegira to Judah provided by Vernarth to rediscover its roots, and reduce what could have been but the journey of Judah if there had not been ended in a conclusive in Jaffa where the metaphor that returned to Limassol would exceed the metaphor of Rhodes as an intermediate point that perhaps nu It could never have ended.
The interrelation of conceptions is due to a Primogen of the sixth dimension that was established as it was in Izzana with the Unicorns or Uilef that carried them to Genoa, or of the Giant Camels that were transfigured in Jaffa when the Ghosts of Shiraz had an impartial interference in the successful sea off the eastern sea. The relationships of the primogeniture allow a timeless mobilization led by Eurydice as a living figurehead that structures her Orphic proselytism, further than a conventual desire to compensate for all the unfocused in the elite and the outcome in the Profitis Ilias as the maximum height of reception. Trinitarian back with the ecstasy of Saint John the Apostle as the mobile center of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, the similar inspiration of living images of Ein Karem and its shepherds.

The Birthright is a family that composes them in their faith that guides them by themselves, whose goals are primarily directed by their sacramentals from the first to the seventh Giga Camel. In the imaginary and cultural reference that is delimited by its monotheistic ideology, acquired from a Hebraic-Hellenic scientific connection, whose postulates will survive the unusual phenomenon from generation to generation, but rather infinite inter regressions that could sometimes revolutionize the entire creation from scratch interpolated by an alpha, being the same for its intended end. Behold, the crossover element of this theme alludes to objects, events, or phenomena such as the reopening of the Kassotides as a central element from which the hypothetical support of all faith could be shipwrecked, if it is put at risk of re-raising culture to save the fate of the world at risk from climate change. If two sages met in limits without knowing Schopenhauer or Nietzsche with the relevance of ideologies that would offer more factors, expanding both systems or theories as alternative areas to think free from humanism or intellectualism that somehow reveals itself at the end of the times reconciling all time of action subsequent to his potential periods, more than his written legacies because his potential lies in his social prototype more than his work, given that his virtuosity is deeply rooted as an atheist believer, more separated from any intellectual root of wisdom What if it denotes the non-existence of a Pagan or Divine Enlightened God, what would provoke the indirect means that persists of calling a society whether or not it was a believer? In the specific case of Vernarth, his entire biography revolves around a Supreme Being who appears before him as a god of mythology, and who then takes him to the portal of Saint John the Evangelist as a being of compassion who alternates with him to embrace him and your arms. Everything there is that allows to treasure, store, or interrelate in different social strata uses the divine work that a character that sheds light that can even give more brightness than any star that can be demonstrated in a written work as an essential starting base reliability of an author who is inspired, and is not inspired.

Submithology also replaces prosopography, to say the least, that unites in general circles that cease to be physical until the ethereal limen that converts them into micro translation spaces such as quantum, in the same reciprocity of a point A-B and B-A and vice versa as it stipulates the connectivity of what exalts thought, and its inheritance when rising to the point that would be the “Intellectual Heaven”. Vernarth in the present time of any researcher could attribute that it will depart from the Iridescent Hydor photo-duct by seven channelings of the spectrum of the refracting luminaire but of the concomitance of the observable Vernarth, or rather of what little remains to be able to observe of man after leaving It is sighted by the masks that caustically protect or envelop it as a waste of what is not attributable to a Politai, having conditions of dense interests of a destiny that will never be recognized or belong to it. It is because of this reluctance that the proposal of free will offers greater perspectives in a series of misunderstandings such as Empowering two famous atheists like Nietzsche or Schopenhauer at the service of believers who would never object to the full range of possibilities that they could implement from scratch, to convert a Christian who is like himself to a convert who will purge and reverse all his permissible externally in the farthest destinies that allow him to ascend in freedom of annulled will, not only on the earth with one more differentiated, but as a tender being who saves the world so that the world does not forget him. This thesis offers the man who has been bastardized or discriminated from a social marginal depriving him of alternating with nobles or well-to-do who circulate under the same roof of half humanity that allows the common man to dispense with all humanist beliefs, opposition, syncretic, etc. .) To detach from all vanity that is limited in the abandonment of any of it progressing with all creation that if it is when every living organism ceases to be on Patmos.

The Patmos reef may contain inventories, archives, demographic indexes, religious spheres, congregations as repertoires of those that will form when an external being arrives to build a society that imposes its character of contribution to society, and tends to adapt to particular aspects that the that they will be until today on the island itself, in itself demanding the leadership of an elite of the Passional of Iahvé through Saint John the Apostle in conception of qualifying him with the great stratified of the species that compromises in the optics of converting his followers, as an essay of an illusion made real ad honorum of a residual fragmentary that does little to unify the eras in which the rich and poor will be relatives not because of their genealogy, but because what the poor lead of the other to save him from an end that has another handle of his heraldry and portraits of his game that is deactivated in the collective imagination of all his progeny highlighted as a representative of mutations of numer dark ales, where nothing will be recorded only in this untrammeled probability of granting a life that resides in everything that cannot be seen or named, that transgresses all sources of prosopography as something deductive in this case Deus Ex Machina; as will be embodied in the final tableau of Vernarth's Trilogy III "Like the god who will descend from the machine or in this case from Hydor to Vernarth to take him to Alikantus with his mended golden hooves"
To conclude where it remains to argue that it can attract us from the Intuition of being more than a human who can actually live more than what can be budgeted, without prejudice to common sense that is quiet and distant from the epilogue of this work when whoever looks at it and hold on to a legacy of Heritage Site Literature, and manage to embrace it so that its pulse can be felt in each character it is in, and in each episode of a post-classical story. The derivations of a critical analysis of psychological Vernarth is greatly affected by an independent reaction of a real regime to which his fellow Hoplite Soldier leads him to the event of Arbela in the great battle of Gaugamela, integrating himself into the analysis of a reality that did not belong to him due to because he came from another remote erudition, and was only recognized for defending common acts that reflect the awakening of a new seed of value and temperament of a whole baggage of anthroponymy that could fit in all the spontaneous civilizations that manage to transgress the barriers of time and normal space, here is Vernarth who manages to fit in the names that substantiate in others that revalues them, and could appear as a perfect leadership name to access a Helot, Hoplite or Politai housing space in the same way as It could be transmitted from a leader who, together with Wonthelimar, was able to cross the Pyrenees or the heights of Ida or Kanthillana. as a high descendant of the Arakynthos Mountains of Messolonghi destined for the Koumeterium of the same name where the genealogical table of Vernarth is carved together with his brother Etrestles, under the invisible courtesies of a man when he is condemned being born from here from the numb invincible spirit of the Heroes of the Independence of Greece 1830. Finally, in this penultimate episode that Vernarth qualifies the sense of not being affected by an oppressive cause as being influenced by supremacies of ideas, creeds, philosophies, or governmental order, rather by a divine general scientific exordium that is from where he manages to interpret when the Mashiach or Messiah, will take his hands to carry him to meet the Hydor and dwell in that place with Him. The archivist will have the possibility to investigate and study in situ the paranormal events referred to as mega parapsychology, This way he will allow his vast merciful heart to be a strategist to carry in his inventory everything s the petitions of the living who remain in the land of Greece to take them to those who remain in the land via Patmos. Vernarth from the 6th century AD. in search of his genealogy he can create a meritorious dignity of giving funeral rites to his ancestors, the long-standing family coat of arms became returnable to the Reign of Horcondising: Spílaiaus and Aiónius with the major gods who waited for him to reside in the entire fringe of the invisible beings that in eternity will take chronological charge of a revolving time that will recirculate from all that is not dimensioned like a spiral dragging all the empires that request the renovation of their ruins, and of their beings that cry out for the misuse of this world and new coverage of a new world of replacement; as Vernarth's Strategoi legacy through all the reigns between Justin I and Justinian I of the sixth century, since previously a large part of Vernarth's family was exiled to the South of Spain by the then Roman Empire from the north of Venice to the Mediterranean, from here he transfers all the families of his lineage with his Coat of Arms of Lacedaemon to protect them over the course of more than 700 years. In this way, a large part of those who had to protect the family raft that was protected by Vernarth in the revolt of Constantinople after signing peace with Persia. The Apoinandros preserved all his lineage along the paths of an enthronement ritual that protected the distinctions but also the families of the world in the Mediterranean regions, curiously where a large part of this Trilogy navigates the Triacontero Eurídice together with Vernarth as Strategoi of expeditionary forces in glorious parapsychologies of the Middle Ages moving periodically from south to north of all of Hispania, even alternating with Nordic and German elites, such as Greek-Hebrew nominating Vernarth as a dignitary that will be preserved in the coat of arms Strategikon that managed to be collaborated with the Emperors the century VI, attributing that some of the most robust could be part of the elites of the Roman legions as exclusive Praetorians. In this way, all the family trunk and his insignia were migrated from the north of Venice, then to Lombardy to be redirected to Spain later in the coming centuries to South America. The Strategikon has presented as relevant to the present elaboration thanks to its representativeness regarding the egregious existence, compilation, and hoarding of relevant technical information for the performance of the distinguished tasks of ex-military, being able to be verified with absolute certainty within its family traits with its existence, and continued use as a source of the great Taktika of Alexander the Great and Saint John the Apostle as Magister Militum.
Epilogues Trilogy III ( Excerpt)
Ken Pepiton Feb 2022
2022 2:04

the VA Webex conference
future, bogus billable hours, a job,
and something to use old sad men for,

measuring, me re assuring, my more
aggressive conserver of self-will,
trained to lead, since learning to read, DID
that not occur, in each boy's life

dread of the cobalt bomb,
constancy of light speed and pituitary assisted
thought speed,
pinging pong responding, thinking we may
think
along similar lines, so, I
decided,

to find a reason to bring to any reasonings,
I recross, as many of my first reasons
are in a framed loom, with four corners,

that bronze on the map coordinates,
marks nothing, four lines dividing states,
grants given the takers and tamers of the land,

whose sons have gone on to inherit this wind.
Imagine that.
Millions of letters aligned in code to readers
of ascii nada mas this exists in a series of events

solid backups, foolproof, we say CFO proof,
in the pre-Y2K IT game, geek veteran deaf,
high-demand HR,

so much so, mucho mucho, skip the queue
step right up
look achew

gotta tale or a story, is that your's that
you're eating?

Oh, my camera is still on I'm talking to me,
in my perifery
a mete-able bit of time delay,

the in, the way, das sein, dime a time

slip on through, think we may
as well
as any, I'd agree, and off we'd go

wild blue yonder, but that,
was no longer than this two weeks,

less, far less, threaded through now,
the real me in this chair,

in the back ground, one of the service's
perks, choose from these the background,
set and setting, photo director's call

Art's call, talent is a tool, shut up,
Intuit, tweak. Test… fo' won't you shut up see

that's me. On TV, in my easy chair,
on a Federally mandated budgeted service,
to me, that allows me eight easy
pseudo-greenscreens sets, one,
defaulted to my subconscious profile,
I'll assume,
that's me. On TV, in my easy chair,
rocking in floor lit wonder in front of
Gobekli Tepi,

and nobody says a word.
Convergence foreseen in the nineties,
has occurred,
much of this sub-mit-sci-o-usly con meat
mind excuses for war,

well, long ago, it became this game,
few lived so long as to need to know
the patience going gives a slow belly
and a liar.

Dancing at the door of the iliad within,
feel free to think, that me.

The camera is on, in text, seeing me
seeing me glance down, my fingers,
pointing from the mirror, not in the mirror

my face me face, same effect, not mirrored
neurons, my neurons, feeding back

way too late to care, no coda queue for me
that is no monkey in that mirror, that is me.

Tvme offers me his right as I offer mine,
omagod that's me. On TV, in my easy chair,

this never gets old, this phase on one of these
fridays, I can do one of these groups.
with some pretty sad sacks, when seen on TV,
I fit right in, with
Gobekli Tepi, floorlit, pre-roof

Real as can be imagined, this world
common old men, commonly share
live talking head time, everybit as
trustworthy as Kronkite spelled with a c.

The c at the center of we in time where u
find sounds form some things that seem ok
if a crow caw does mean something, only that
I heard you, ok, did you hear me I don't know.

That may be life's most enjoyable time
for any idle thought poured into a word,
there, breathe, you have it, I read, read
I said, I can.

I can tell you, partly, how I came to know
I can read:

We lived behind the courthouse
with the machine gun from world war one
and absolutely olympish champs from
army navy and marines, over there
over there,
across my street, is the lawn I play on,
over there,
over there, is the jail for drunk injuns
over there is where I learned the audience

reaction to a Hualapai child, being
evangelized, he was in a mob of snot nose,
rez kids, in the nineties, eh, think about it,

this kid in the crowd looks at me,
and my stunningly ebullient zealous wife,
he says,
my grandpa has never been in jail,
and I think
my grandkids won't be proud of that.

And I'm kinda proud to think of that,
as a test, love your neighbor as clause…

that part you work out, some days amaze,
some days,
right back in the maze,
picking up fragments of prayers we made
effective,

sort of, means, sorting idle words for worth,
is what sorting any thing is for, what it's worth,
or what its worth, that difference,

a breath equivalent,' force of mind to think,
after one another then and now, the
whole life on earth is better 2020 wide,

on the layer where nothing we learn is new,
we passed that so long ago in terms of
jellotime and bulletspeed and thought
godspeed in biblical time

using the stacking of the stories for effect,
the honor to the scribes taken from the brite
sons of the weavers and spinners of yarns,
tenders of tavern, need not apply,

ah, but when the Hans were in, we could test,
life was to be examined, prepare to enter

the gate, and wait for results,
life is that test, still
smallest yes voice says.
KV Srikanth Dec 2021
Complete Creative control
Apart from playing the lead role
I'd rather destroy my career
Than give others the power

Long drawn film making
Big budgets and months of scheduling
Multiple characters and sub plots
Bringing them together on a studio lot

Filmmaking style of his mentor
Spaghetti Western genre creator
Sergio Leone the director
Whose direction he did the trilogy under

Studio backed Actioner
Don Siegel was the auteur
Met his second mentor
Worked 5 films with this Director

Fast paced and minimalistic
Was Siegel' s characteristic
Fewer set ups to shoot
Lesser number of characters to boot

Direct approach to the story
No sub plots to deviate from the itinary
In your face filmmaking
No time wasted in its processing

Audience are intelligent
Premise he learnt to implement
Explanatory scene and dialogues done away
Both the styles he now had under his sway

Dots left unconnected on purpose
Audience watching him global and diverse
Each to their own conclusion
Was the underlying scoring point of his direction

Built a team at Malpaso
Regular Stock company scenario
Editor Cinematographer Designer
Made films like a express luxury liner

Handled various genres
Doubling as Actor and Director
Made everyone wonder
With his output as a Producer

Not low budget fare
But optimally budgeted affair
Restricted shooting days
Edited along the way

Handled off beat themes
Increased his creative esteem
Many remade later
Nothing like this master storyteller

A one night stand
Kept the viewer on the edge
A Drifter seeking vengeance
Ghost or brother left to the thinker

Alcoholic cop sent on purpose
Retrieve a witness who'll cause more trouble
A loser cop as a protagonist
Feather on the cap for this perfectionist

Love for Jazz and Country
Stealing a plane from another Country
Harry Callahan made you day
With Go ahead make my day

Priest saving a community
Disappearing affecting the continuity
Caddiallac comedy
Partnered with Charlie Sheen in the Rookie

Played the legendary John Huston
Premiered at Cannes and won good reviews
An Army film about the Marines
Wonderful film that's more that it seems


Dedicated a film to Sergio and Don
Compounded their skills in this milestone
An Anti Western about a reformed former bounty hunter
Deciding to saddle up to save his children from hunger

Deliberately paced and terse
Classic Western in every frame
Emotional emptiness of killers
Unwilling to conform to society and loners


Conscience is his friend
Whom he looses in the end
Kills those responsible
Regretting every time he triggered his rifle

Clint pays homage to his films
And his mentors in the credits
Reinvented his image  with merit
The film won 4 Oscars to his credit

This only covers half his career
Handled complex themes later
Never deviated from his core principle
Trusting his feelings m he for gut in the middle all the trouble

Never yells Action or Cut
Let's go and that's enough the way he puts
Principal photography ahead of schedule
Compromising on the quality not even miniscule
in Pennsylvania will begin at 2:00 AM
on Sunday, March twelfth
and moost likely will impact
min-née-ute effect on me
a run of the mill on the Floss
amazingly gracefully aging
long haired pencil necked geek,
who welcomes increased photons.

Just moments ago, a dawning realization
arose within this sol son begat
from ma late mother
and then (when following poem written)
octogenarian widower father,
(me papa passed away
since date this poem written)
oh..no nothing cat
tuss strophic, boot merely the revelation,
how fist bumping
dee clocks hour hand ahead
remembered by dat

dog gone refrain
spring ahead, and fall back,
this unemployed chap
doth down play eclat
attests that his quotidian
schedule minimally affected
holed up here in Highland Manor named flat
roomy enough for thyself, the Missus,
and buzzfeed ding fruit flies
each fuzz beating insect
approximately the size of a gnat
a minor nuisance, though tolerable
within this appealing habitat

where minor inconvenience experienced
by this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania resident
cuz as a recipient
of social security disability
(social anxiety) this psyche didst get rent
which fixed (unearned) income budgeted
and predominantly costs
of living money spent
hence no need to arise
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
a freedom akin

to festive folks camped out in a tent,
which exemption immunizes
this doodle ling middle aged
muddle brained chap subject ranting
early morning drivers,
who angrily, frenetically,
and splenetically rant and vent
thus, the tendency, piquancy, and lunacy
to twitter (for the Yardbirds),
and keep company
with night owls, who went
a hooting for all the world wide web

to hear, whence straw dawgs Bach,
the exact number of hours, yer oblivious
to the tight rigorous mortised schedule
manned by Mister Clock,
essentially foisting on bread winners,
an abstract artificial construct spurring
madcap commuters to scurry in the rat race,
lest tardiness could cost
more than ham iz zone whole paycheck
(to ap pier with permanent dock
hue ment aye shun),
an unwonted blot add hock

king worry about getting canned -
i.e. on permanent furlough,
perhaps forced into a life of crime,
yet if caught...
courtesy strapping ****
wasting away in a jail cell
as warden turns the lock
one redeeming factor,
would offer opportunity to mock
management, and more pertinently
mandate to rock
and roll to the incessant muted,
yet devastatingly loud tick tock.
In 2024, daylight savings time will begin at two o'clock ante meridiem on Sunday, March tenth. That will mean losing an hour of precious sleep and moving the clocks (around your house, and sundry frequented places) forward one hour, though your cell phone, computer, and television plus other electronic devices will likely automatically adjust. The sun will appear to rise and set an hour later.

Father time evinces spectacular robustness despite weathering setback of countless finagling representation viz Chronos (/ˈkroʊnɒs, -oʊs/; Greek: Χρόνος, [kʰrónos], "time"), also spelled Khronos or Chronus, is a personification of time in pre-Socratic philosophy and later literature. Chronos. Personification of time. Time Clipping Cupid's Wings (1694), by Pierre Mignard. Symbol.

Though crafted a few years back
jet lag effect affects yours truly
twice each year when schedules
within body electric
such as circadian rhythm
dislocate psyche
analogous to seismic shift
NOT attributed to global warming,
nor aeronautically bound sky high,
but linkedin to hour hand
on analog clock
set ahead or behind one hour.

Just about a bajillion moments ago
(from date/time
I wrote these words),
a dawning realization
arose within this sol son begat
from ma late mother
and (initial commencement
of this poem) while
then octogenarian widower father,
lived at Normandy Farms
Senior Community

in Blue Bell, Pennsylvania
(he since passed away
October 7th, 2020)
oh... no nothing cat
tuss strophic, boot
merely the revelation,
how fist bumping dee clocks
an hour hand ahead
remembered by dat
dog gone refrain
spring ahead, and fall back,

this unemployed chap
doth down play eclat
attests that his quotidian rising
schedule minimally affected
holed up here
in Highland Manor named flat
roomy enough for thyself, the Missus,
and buzzfeed ding fruit flies
each approximately the size of a gnat
a minor nuisance, though tolerable
within this appealing habitat,

where minor inconvenience experienced
by this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania resident
cuz as a recipient
of social security disability
(social anxiety) this psyche didst get rent,
which fixed (unearned) income budgeted
and predominantly costs
of living money spent
hence no need to arise
bright tailed and bushy black eyed,
pea yon sought freedom akin

to folks camped out in a tent,
which exemption immunizes
this doodle ling middle aged
muddle brained chap subjected to ranting
courtesy early morning drivers,
who angrily, frenetically,
and splenetically rant and vent
thus, the tendency, piquancy, and lunacy
to twitter (for the Yardbirds),
and keep company
with night owls, who went

a hooting for all the world wide web
to hear, whence dawgs Bach
the exact number of hours, yet oblivious
to the tight rigorous
tenon mortised schedule
manned by Mister Clock,
essentially foisting on Bread Winners,
an abstract artificial construct spurring
madcap commuters
to scurry in the rat race,

lest tardiness could cost
more than paycheck
(to ap pier with permanent dock
hue ment aye shun),
an unwonted blot add hoc
king worry about getting canned -
i.e. on permanent furlough,
perhaps forced into a life of crime,
yet if caught...
wasting away in a jail cell

as warden turns the lock
one redeeming factor,
would offer opportunity to mock
management, and more pertinently
mandate to rock
and roll to the incessant muted,
rhyme without reasonable schlock
yet devastatingly loud tick tock
analogous to stir fries
noisily prepared in wok.

— The End —