Welcome to John E. WordSlingers Poetry Home

Posted in Animal Poetry, Art Poetry, Beautifire, Begets of Autumn, bluebellbooks, Bullet Train Poetry, Cento, Charles C Gragg, Childrens Poetry, Christmas Poetry, Collaboration, Craft Poetry, Dark Poetry, De Nocturno Series, Epic Poetry, Erotic Poetry, Essay, Faith Poetry, Family Poetry, Fantasy Poetry, French Eroticopter Series, Friend Poets, Goth Poetry, History Poetry, Horror Poetry, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09rHDabBQfA, Humor Poetry, Interactive Poetry, Jingle Poetry At The Gooseberry Garden Picnic, John E WordSlinger, Kreativ Blogger Award, Language Octane: My French Eroticopter Series, Light Poetry, Love Poetry, Madelynn, Nature Poetry, Oratorio, Pantoum, Poetry, Poetry E Train, Poetry Promotion, Poetry Train, Poets of Blood, Positive Poems, Prose, Proverbe's de' les Roses, Romance Poetry, School of Poetry, Sestina, Short Story, Slingtionarious, Sonnet, Speech, Spiritual Poetry, Stream Conscious, The Art of Selena Howard, The Emily Dickinson Dash, The Phantom Series, Thursday Poets Rally, Time Travel Poetry, Tuanortsa, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2011 by johnewordslinger

is a poet with 4 wheel drive, so lets go for a ride…..
\,,/_(-.-)_\,,/ ~ WordSlingers’ NUDGED SKETCHES OF FLIGHTY THINGS

and most of all CRITIQUE
@ YOUR OWN RISK !!! ….
-smiles and blessings….. lol…

My Internet Writing Life Motto is-
Keep it Poetry and Poetry Shall Keep You:,
Short Bio:Hazard…

I have to take the road that Bruce Lee
took towards the Martial Arts, as an
Analogy here. Like Water;
I take the Literature Arts of Poetry.
In the beginning I used free verse,
swift rhyming, lyrical, metal-rap-groove verse.
With definition and aggression.
Now I try different systems,
in all genres, as always,
And put them to my personal use,
furthermore put to use what is useful
when needed,  and reject what I don’t need
at the time for a specific write.
Using no specific way is the way,
I am the way I write, but keeping in mind,
the tools at hand. No limitations as the limitation.
With all poetry styles ( trapping, and grabbing)-
(Mind locks-Heart locks-Spiritual locks-)
Honestly expressing ones self is difficult to do:
The Poet, the creating individual is always
more important than any style or system.
Absorb what is useful, discard what is useless,
And add to what is your own.
I write my own interpretation of poetry.
Concepts behind concepts.
Dedicating to creating
creative new-original thoughts, and poetry.
Like I write with one hand,
but if I could write with the other,
at the same time, a different poem,
that would be to break boundaries.
As asking multi-tasking: Poetry styles separate poets.
Style is a continuous growth.
Poetry skills/tools are weapons and you have
to use all of them, to incorporate all styles.
(Move all parts of your poetry)
Put everything into it, all energy.
Rest then progress.
A true poet is constantly growing,
and when he or she are bound by a set of styles,
or a way of doing things, that’s when he,
or she stops growing.
To reach a reader you have to move
to them, advance, and retreat- advance retreat,
furthermore slide and step back, push,
and push back, circle them
( put the reader on defense),
and close them in, and hit them
with the best closure.
Poetry is like water, flexible, it has to go somewhere.

Photo Credit

 I  love making  love to the alphabet.

I believe in her, and I believe she can be anything she wants to be.


Treacherous urges steadily spur
on this dreadful adventure of what we lure!-Poem Madversity…
In the Poets’ hood keep the Poets’ eye-
For a good Poet shall never die! P.O.B. Bloodfest 2010

Digital Fingerprint:

All poems All Rights Reserved:
Embedded in Sap
Begets of Autumn LLC.

Psalms 35

My Good (confidence) Luck Charm

I strictly use Flairs for my poetry journals

John E. WordSlingers Poetry Journals

Link to Photos to these Journals: https://www.facebook.com/poetrytrain/media_set?set=a.875249025883840.1073741888.100001962511437

I strictly use Flairs for my journals

Click On Art Work to go Directly to Creations:

John E. WordSlingers’ Poetry Train Currently on an E-Journey in Canada.

Art by Selena Howard

Poetry Train.com is
on Facebook
on Youtube and, on Twitter

John E. WordSlingers’ School of Poetry (School House by Stefy Janeva)

“Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird” (Proverbs 1:17)

John E. WordSlinger/PoetryTrain/dot/com is affiliated and a member of the following companies, and organizations.

The Slingtionarious Wictionary

Posted in Slingtionarious, The Slingtionarious Wictionary with tags , , , , , , , on January 23, 2016 by johnewordslinger


The Slingtionarious Wictionary by John E. WordSlinger
Narrated by Hank Beukema
*AVAILABLE on the 23rd of February
at Createspace.com & soon Amazon.comView post
70 poems with a Dictionary of Designed Words by
John E. WordSlinger
Hardcore (Explicit), Erotica, Dark & Light Poetry
 a poem entitled “Siamese Nightja-Wu with Poet Malik Petterson
an epic poem entitled “The Valorous Vacel and Valine with Poet Kimberly Hillard.
Designed Words aka Word Sketches:
Abye Ankylosis Astromic Bankawnook Beautifire Beknownst Benesis Blooderm Boomzismiles Brigadia Churchild Classindo Cliterature Coincidance Combinatorics Crail Crool Deathamatics Dight Dreeft Dumbonic Embracer Enterbrainment Eroticopter Evenire Failor Fainely Funderize Gemuine Giantess Heartillery Hydrastitute Imaginator Immerge Initiatest Jile Kinglish Ledbetter Livocet Logophobian Lovemount Madiator Madvesrity Majikal Messiahet Moonpalachia Nathless Nightja-Wu Nostriligia Nowasaki Nucleansia Omegabet Ourinds Palagarlove Pananche Penoem Photosyhthesiszer Prodigic Proverbia Respiritualization Ridiculust Ridotto Simmigration Sinegry Sineral Slango Slingtionarious Smellivision Snaptix Soulology Sphear Sphinxter Sporadical Spright Starithmetic Stoure Strime Thinkery Timenized Timeous Traumaturge Tribunia Trilieus Turboa Twacked Valorize Verbia Voyag Vriller Wanxiety Wexcitements Witcheroo Womanorsexic Wonderments Wordiper Worditage Wordo Wordschester Wormitage Wrathlete Wypnotism Zabracazebra ƒLø
Sky Warrior, Lovemount, Super Corn, Benesis & th’Temple of Words, F’ck th’Keyhole K’ck Open th’Door, Clap Your Hands Cleopatra,  ‘etc’ Alburitel & th’Anti-Poets, Sporadical InSider, Premonitious and Them, Fainely Due to You, Fast Dream- L.I.P. & R.I.P., Th’Fire Within Fire, Trioedd y’d Majixx (Jolly Black), Someone Wrote Surrender WordSlinger Across Th’Sky, proverbia, Apprenticeship In Love, Thou Worms of WordSlinger, Deathamatics in Counterfeit Life, Time Travel Drinking Water, Spido Pissing, ƒLø Voyag?, Sphinxter Siphon Philter, Pleasure Brigade, Wanxiety, Slingtionarious Pocket Docket I, Beautifire, V. Churchild, Helliette and the Zabracazebra, John E. WordSlinger, Less Than Something-More Than Nothing, Sphear of God,  Harbinger of Selection, Beknownst, Wormitage, Thinkery, Bobby and Smart Alex, Siamese Nightja-Wu, Dreeft, Livocet, Madversity, Wonderments, The Higher Stopped to Love, Mr. Ledbetter, Air-Lords and Tenants of Vanished Lore, Witcheroo, Snaptix, Astral Eyes, Starithmetic, Boomzismiles, Eco-It Man, The Vrillian Vriller, Raised Profile, Logophobian, Palagarlove, Blithesome, Tonal Paint, Soulology, Trilieus, Arsenal of Verbia, Psalms in Calm Palms, What Remains Next, Photosynthesiszer, Moonpalachia, The Madiator in HD/the Messiahet Writer, Face the Poetry, The Garage of Erotic Stanzas, Beautifiery Star, The Definition Slinger, Ridotto- Poetry By Another Name, and The Valorous Vachel and Valine…

This is a book of words designed with definitions by the Poet, John E. WordSlinger. He established himself as a Poet on the 15th of October of the year 1987, and has written music, poetry, historical fiction, legal bills, and screenplays, furthermore words. Readers of John gave him the name WordSlinger, and called his new words, Slingtionarious. John calls all of his literary work, Nudged Sketches of Flighty Things: Bonus Poems with these designed words will be in the back of the book.



We Buy Unwanted Poems a screenplay (3) by John E WordSlinger

Posted in Uncategorized on January 17, 2016 by johnewordslinger

“We Buy Unwanted Poems”

a screenplay by John E. WordSlinger

Synopsis: Drama
Coming Soon!

stamping the un-regulated virtual dome

-… …-

INT THE HOME of Annie DeCrane – DAY


(Sitting at her desk, checking her snail mail & email, and online postings, of a new book of poetry just released, and the numerical status of the We Buy Unwanted Poems bank account. Her phone rings and it is her employee SARAH RILEY.)


I like this book more then the last one we published. More sonnets made the difference I believe. Hello are you there ANNIE?


Yes, I ‘am here, can we talk later, maybe after lunch I will call you back.


Yes, hope all is okay, we can talk later, soon.


(Sat her phone down, and walked through her home.
She thought about visiting her hometown Valparaiso, Indiana, and the life she use to live there.
She then thought about the photo booth at the Franklin House Bar & Grill and the times with JOE, JOE BURGHER the Poet, the Poet that changed her life. ‘Bear Down,’ he would tell her, and bearing down she has done.)

The phone rang again and it was TED-ed




Good Morning Annie, my name is MARISSA BALES, and we would like for you to do a segment on Ted about all that you have done for poetry, so would you be interested?


I might, can I have your information so I can call you back? Why do you want to do this?


Well why would you want to buy unwanted poems?


Thank you for your information, and have a nice day.
(Hangs up the phone)

Phone rings again but ANNIE lets her old school answering machine get the call, so she could hear who it was leaving the message. Many calls came in, all asking the same thing, to interview her, so they want to know why she buys unwanted poems.


(Went into her bedroom, and laid down. She stared into the flinching sadness of loss, life’s thin threads, and social problems in America as well as a global context kept creeping in. Then the ‘psst’ sound came, the loving whisper JOE BURGHER use to do to her. ANNIE DECRANE then knew she was soothing her loneliness and glory, this glory was not hers, it belonged to JOE BURGHER, and now everyone wants to know why, why she buys unwanted poems.
Poems with no spine of honesty, no freshness, poetry that speaks down or wants to be over head. Puzzle-less poetry, and same ol images. Forced in rhyme, and the absence of courage.


(thought out loud as she got up out of bed) “Courage, forced. Models of sustainability and empowerment of women, that’s the part they want to know. “It’s a beautiful day.”


(ANNIE’S Pekinese dog started barking to go outside.)


(Put on his leash, grabbed a book of poetry to read at the park, and took a walk and talked to CHAKA.)

CHAKA It’s JOE’s love, it maybe my money but it’s JOE’s love for poetry, and all my others tell me is, Don’t put myself out like this.

(barked and wagged his tail happy)


Inspiration, meeting an end for them Poets CHAKA, because lets say they seem to be having bad days. Worried about the traditional, and what have others done about the poetic audience? As is, that’s what it is. The nuts and bolts are working themselves out but making others angry CHAKA.

(barked and wagged on happy)




Being anti-social can help a lot. That’s the only way you’ll notice the craziness of this world.


Get to the point, and stop fidgeting!!


(just won $1,000.00 on a gambling machine at the local tavern)


Good for you DOUGLAS, Good for you.


(Watches DOUGLAS cash out, and walk out of the tavern, but DOUGLAS looks in SARAH RILEY eyes as he walks away, and SARAH RILEY thinks (NARRATIVE VOICE), the easy way out, no investment in others, or community.)

EUGENE, I’ll be back. I am going outside to have a cigarette.



(Thinking & Smoking)(Narration)
I ‘am always in the state of cautious hesitation, say a train slow, because of faulty tracks ahead, and the decline of humanity. And I can’t be fooled by the illusions, cars, money, jobs, and greed.

A young woman walks up the back steps to the tavern, and says, Well hello, how are you?


Great and you?

Young Lady

Living the dream!



(And the YOUNG LADY walks in the tavern.)


(finishes her cigarette and follows her back in. And she notices the YOUNG LADY & EUGENE TAPP, gambling.)


(Calls back SARAH RILEY)

Hello SARAH, time tells all so I ‘am calling you back. Did you know, friends are really not your friends, and your enemy’s are not really your enemy’s, it takes time to realize that, and realization for you is that your final check is in the mail, not email but snail mail, so maybe slowly you will realize who was good to you. Take 15- (Laughing) I agree with this, but I also know the pits of the mongoose and the snakes… I say this because sometimes writers need to be understood as people, it all takes time and communication. There is money involved and not yours, but (Laughing) I do this because poets competition is kicking poetry’s ass for years, (Laughing) Thank you Shakespeare. Anyways, I bragged about you at the Theater here, and like all, they want to know your name and I tell them but I still say, they are robots, with ear funnel – tunnels- that go back to the breathing bad breath air. Have a nice day.


(hangs up the phone and notices MOLOTOV ‘COCKTAIL’ BURNS a local Poet walking with two others who seem to be up to trouble. Social and ideal, no it’s a we-deal.

MOLOTOV ‘COCKTAIL’ BURNS is a local poet we all know.


So what is he up to? Balance? He’s probably a good guy looking with the wrong eye, a nothing, they all seem to think.

(All three walk into the tavern)
(MOLOTOV ‘COCKTAIL’ BURNS and his two companions, a man and women)



Boys and Girls it is real easy to see who’s who, who you shake the fine line fence who is good and evil. There is a sense to all, and they we all look at you in the eye, looking for what slings out of your mouth, that is why the word is mightier then the sword, as in give 100% it’s only a matter of time before they’ll shit on you in many bad ways more then once, Poets wisdom is grand, so I say, Ya YO-Shall You Be A Poet shake that fence until all posts are shakn’ beaten, ya ya, it means no fear, not of or any of them, the non-fear is as in you shown up to the Reality you all claim, so Sci Fa that, where is the arena, well I just told ya, and why is twitter so politically fabulou$, I call Bullshit just another junk.com comprehende, engaging the art of listening, Money, such a Sad Disease, welcome to it’s, stick’em. Like a WordSlinger punch line in the world wide dot PIT.

It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God”. _ Matty the Sandallatty- way before the Just Do It slogun.

(laughs and felt understood, she was just fired)

(returns to his and SARAHS table)


I was just fired

Okay, here is how it went down. Last night I gave Loren a ride to Chicago, and came back, and on the way back she offered and asked me to pick up Mark And Jesse and take them to the Hotel, so I did. Jesse was stuck in stupid mode when I dropped them off, and Loren grabbed me by the shoulder, and said,

You be careful.


She was telling you to watch your ass, and stop fidgeting.


(looks into EUGENE’s eyes)
This is lethal, and now I know what’s up. This town is full of cold hearted people.


Stop fidgeting, so she.


Hush let me finish the story, she fired me.


She has been known to do people over before.


No it’s my fault she’s a great person. I ‘am just going to have to give her time, and talk to her after she cools down. I have been slacking.



to be continued

ya ya the C inside the Circle John E. WordSlinger


Time Kin (Callusandrix) a screenplay (2) by John E WordSlinger

Posted in John E WordSlinger, Screenplay, Slingtionarious with tags , , , on January 17, 2016 by johnewordslinger

WordSlingers’ second screenplay. Action/Sci Fa/Horror/Paranormal Thriller. Harold is a Mastermind Ghost & Poltergeist Trainer and Electronic Saboteur in a modern world gone to the digital dogs. Harold induces ‘Dies Irae’ aka the Day of Wrath & Death, and Planet Earth gets a new Wind and Breath.

ya ya the C inside the Circle John E. WordSlinger


 -… …-


Poem Narration for intro of film:

with film footage of Canaryville: Chicago, IL

before the stock yards & neighborhood and then past and present, static imagery, of place and land. (flashes.)



The Vrillian Vriller

A hunter on the path of

Planet Earth killers

Residing in plain sight

Hidden, quicker than the eye

First of all with Galactic Law

He’ll look upon your deeds

in the fullness of light

The circumstances that made you

The contributions of what you do

So you want to be Angels

although in reality your Beasts

So what is your plea?

He knows it’s hard to justify

When your caught in a trap of lies

Oppressors in the name of law keep sowing

And numbers among numbers keep growing

For the love of my native planet

Your blindness from not serving

natural justice is deserving

Punishment in eternity

Punishment coming by eternal law

Now isn’t this a scriller

The hunter, the Vrillian Vriller




(Van with no windows parked outside) as the three TIME KIN walk up the stairs) & then inside of a 4 story apartment building built in the 1800’s.)


The porches were painted green (white now; boxed in with new construction.), four flights of decks of it, & they squeaked, & one staircase & hand rail (Shaking rail as walking) wobbled while climbing the stair cases as always.

Couches were on every floor (for comfort of all sorts, past visions FLASHBACK), where we, the ‘Rambunctious Youth’ thought of wild things. T.V.s were placed on these porches on Friday nights for us to listen, and watch the newest music videos. It was not a Quiet Riot.

Look my carved gang sign is still here on this window seal. (laughs) Bad Girls Nation! (laughs)

SOUND SONG: 1 Quiet Riot – Come On Feel The Noize

MICHAEL (smiled)

You are still bad.  I always admired your art skills.


You think.  You know MICHAEL, we used to spontaneous combust in kissing that is, that’s art to me.



I remember, I do.  You flirt.  I remember the rail yards, stock yards, and catching gardener snakes behind Zarze was the things to do, and make out with all the pretty girls too.  Also black people were kinder in the black-belt on the other side of the railroad track viaducts then the people from Bridgeport.


I ‘am not so tiny anymore.  Did I ever tell you I hopped a train once?


Ya, you always were tall.  You are a sarcastic ace.


(whipped out his 2 high tech phone cameras like 2 old western revolvers & took thousands of photos per second of everything.  He also shot video footage with his camera bandana head band.)


I remember.  The International Amphitheater was my favorite.  Me and Lori did sneak in once. (laughs)


Playing baseball with my brother with rubber or cork balls anywhere were mine.


It all started to fade away with Atari.  Freaking Frogger.  Ah Road Kill, Do da to to too, Do da do da, I played the covers off the joysticks, you know MICHAEL.  Remember I used yours one day?


MICHAEL (laughs harder)

Listen, speaking of games here, this is the real Pitfall.  The Japan, Hiroshima slider pitch, and the battle for the wrist, then the neck and then the soul.  Their way of revenge.


You got that correct.  Analog started to take its beating.  I was the Goddess of the tagle game MS. Pacman, and the treasure goes do-do-do-DO-da-DO.  In my head it says, You got the DIA-mond RING!  You were the God of that hand held game.


Yes, love that game.  I have to admit the Coleco football got me first.

LORAINE (laughs)

Head to Head games.


Yep, why settle for less. 1983 Motorola-Dynatac, the start of the analog dinosaur.


Yes, Photomac.

MICHAEL (laughs)

Yes, Photomate.

LORAINE & MICHAEL (say in synch)

Photomat, overnight, one hour now.


Digital generation plow.


No more yellow photo booths, and welcome to ‘the world of the forgotten’ to the youth.


Flashback, flashcube.


My Flashbug, call me from the cash register.

MICHAEL (laughs)

Yes, I ‘am in the basement tunnel to the secret subterranean photo lab. Text me. (laughs)


(Carried 2 duffle bags, and had a military style bag strapped to his back)

The spectrum, the spectrum.  The infinite amount of colors, the tones, the smells, and the animals.  Oh the animals.   George Ohm you son of bitch.  People accepted digital things way to easy.  Rare earth magnetization.  Chemicals versus radio waves.  Oh missing time.  6 to 4 seconds a day.   I see you, I see you.  I see what’s also underneath.   I see the connection.   The new dark age, a mutation age.   You can’t see the boundaries in my skull unless.  I let them go.


I don’t mind getting old, pains suck, but aging and seeing this massive change is impressive.


(Was still using his 2 high tech phone cameras like 2 old western revolvers & took thousands of photos per second of everything, and still shot video footage with his camera bandanna head band.)


It’s amazing how Harold looks at humanity as super evil.


Well I guess we are.  Sneaking into the closed part of the city to film and end of era.



(top floor of apartments)

(Everyone looked at the place, it was old, dusty, and mildews here and there or so it seemed.)


This apartment is where I use to live.  There is a photo of me and my friends between the doors top trim-molding.   I put it there when I was a young girl.


We are digital immigrants, and we seen the direct human connection and bonding destroyed.  Destroyed by the digital age with its anxiety, addiction, and social isolation. (Walks away from them to explore, and capture.)


Memory has been at risk for a while now, and now it is the ‘no shame era’.   Gosh, Mary from Tennessee, she always wanted to fondle me.


(Finds a place to sit, and rolls a marijuana cigarette.)


Ya, I’m thinking about riots, the riots, the schools, the knock down, drag out fights too.


Ya you kicked ass, you bad ass.  Well it’s cold and creepy in here.  I feel an evil presence, like big business. (laughs)

LORAINE (smiling)

I found the picture.  Look I always scribbled on the back of photos. Our puppy is in this picture too.  1981.  Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  And if it wasn’t for tough people.   You all wouldn’t be with us.  I remember I did not want to live back then.


(Returns to the apartment Loraine and Mike were in.  He photo’d & filmed most of the place, & set receiver-transmitters/3d laser/infrared scanners to sense the environment in every room.)

(MICHEAL looks at the picture.  HAROLD films it.  MICHAEL holds the photo to Loraine’s heart.

She gets silent.  Mike holds the photo continuously to her heart.)


If I die will you send this photo to my uncaring family? Bring it closer to my face MICHAEL.

HAROLD take a picture. Are you trying to make me cry? Never mind, kill the camera.   Dispose of the picture.


No.  They are here, and they are coming.


Nice, alright, super ghosts.   Their whole lives on thumb drives.

HAROLD (vomits)

People make me sick.


I hear ya cap Daddy.   It will get dark in a few hours.   Glad we are doing this during the day.


(The Duende KINJAs and the Police were also on the way. Trespassing signals were set off, meaning Intruders were in the closed part of the City of Chicago, new parts of the City were called super community’s. The Time Kin looked at them as modern roman soldiers with bad intentions.  The Duende KINJAs were transformable droid Overlords, supreme super soldiers of Machine Kingdom.  They were droids with bull like horns that could shape shift into robotic dogs or birds, collision proof drone like, and they made a mockery of everything.)


Oh my God this is unreal.  They are here, all of my friends.  They died. Harold can they see us?  Unbelievable, wow aging is something.


Yes, they are scared of us, and of the bad spirits, and they hide, they are here too and see us.  Keep in mind those that were born after the death of analog are in a different kind of lost, not as bad as those born after and passed away.


Oh my it’s Rugrat my puppy.

(The ghost German Shepard Puppy runs up to LORAINE, & jumps around her but his barking could not be heard.)


(Gets paper and pens out of a back-pack for the ghosts and on the covers of these note books it read, ‘Write to your hearts content’, so the world knows you and your realm.)

The eternal truth is the spiritual realm is flat, white noise beyond. All spiritual eyes are on us in this building.  Most are not the Ghosts of the Computer revolution.  Some have died some serious deaths, they are the ones more scared and some more angry.


Oh to hell with the new machine age.  Like this age cares about people.  What’s worse the Duende KINJAs or these evil spirits?   We are fucked either way.



So you have no compassion for them, good.


Ya they hate our guts, literally.  Death was never optional and should not be. Clever-bots are not that clever HAROLD.   They are psychopath uploads.   This is a step down in the very dark, nasty, evil trans-human agenda.   Very unholy!  They fooled the world with Robotica.

                                                        NEW STOCK SHOT

(Sex with robots, more psychiatry madness medical corporations got away with.   It was sort of easy, because they slipped through the free porn industry.

(Visions- soft core scenes)


Do not have empathy for the spirits or the bots!  Here, you both take one of these pills, they will fire up lights on your nervous system to camouflage and blend with the bots.  They are programmed with new data about the realm, but it has glitches.  One thing we need to do right away, the first thing, and that is to tear off these tallest and largest mirrors up and down the hall-ways of this building right away. Bullets were meant to kill pure evil.   Also remember to transform is to be center to center in a fireplace like, when it comes to evil spirits.   Oh yes here, cover yourselves with these simple ponchos to protect you from their nanobot spray.


(Slipped her permission to have a child identification card above the doors trim-moulding, right in the same place the photo was, and placed the old photo in her back pocket.   And this pain bothered her extremely.)

So HAROLD you don’t like the change in people? Nanno spray, like agent orange. Hey if these ghosts and robots don’t smoke, then I don’t like them.



More like agent black.

MICHAEL (laughs)

The greatest civil rights issue in human history is about to be solved.


Son of Bitch they have a new horse proto-type.

MICHAEL (Talking to Ghosts)

Ah screw their one key press away.  Resistance is futile, and yes mankind, Ghosts turned themselves into robots, and kissed their free will good bye.  Well, are all of you Ghosts ready?  We have a war to start.  Mote It Be, mote it be!


LORAINE (flattered and sassy)

Spirit, Earth, Air, Water, and Fire.   Come to us and give us what we desire.  Waves of luck fall down on us and complete our wishes effortlessly.  Water boil, water cling, to the dust, as I sing, not just here, but everywhere, just like this, at which I stare.

(and it started to rain outside.)


Well I assume you two gave these ghosts power, correct?


Yes, even the bad ones.


(Looking out of a window with a Ghost where the hot dog stand use to be at the end of the parking lot.)


Okay, I shall return I ‘am going to the first floor before the KINJAs arrive, and we don’t have much time.  Remember I ‘am going to have to go from apartment to apartment.


Okay. MICHAEL I ‘am a magnet, but more like a bucket, and this building is about to overflow with spirits.  I ‘am about to draw them from the well of the realm.   Once they come they can’t return, and they will get confused, and well that’s when they’ll help us.   They will feel alone so we need to make them feel comfortable.


I wonder how they set up their selves for trouble as people of our time have?


Well they are connected in a different way.  People today believe they are but not at all.  Remember MICHAEL these people love and were use to conversation.  They have been in a kind of solitude we don’t know.


Just thinking here, can we trust them? What if they turn on us?




Ya, like all those mad people and scientist’s that created all of this madness.


Compassion, comfort, and love, Well, you know that feeling you get when you’ve been locked in a dark space alone for eternity? The opposite of that.


So you are a natural.

LORAINE (smiles)

Thanks.  Like in a furry hurry.  Actually it is the opposite.  They are a natural with us.


What the heck?   What is that one doing?  He’s?


Let me talk to him.

Michael he died from falling off the roof here.   He is upset because, he says he had goals, and there was no work.  The world changed on him. He owed the IRS he said, and state taxes, and he tried and tried, and he says these agencies never came up with nation wide solutions or innovations to help the nation.  He is looking for his paper work. He said it was always so confusing.   Blessed by some and Cursed by many.

The Man Ghost 1

(screamed and spoke-

Immediately!  Immediately!   But what did they do for you and me?

                                                              FADE OUT


(Lurking in the halls of the bottom floors of the apartment building, and whispers poem quotes of the Poet Virgil.)

No day shall erase you from the memory of time” “Death twitches my ear; ‘Live,’ he says…
“I’m coming.” “The descent into Hell is easy” “If I cannot move heaven, I will raise hell.” “It is easy to go down into Hell…; but to climb back again, to retrace one’s steps to the upper air—there’s the rub…”


No it was, “The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:
But to return, and view the cheerful skies,
In this the task and mighty labor lies.”


(next to Harold, slightly behind.)

So you are bringing my piano upstairs?


(Jumped, a little startled.)

Whew, you startled me.

(short laugh)

Yes, if they ever get here. They are late.


You are dying of Lyme disease.


Yes, just another big disgrace, the great majority of neurologists like all other ists, think they knew or know it all.


Malice, malice.  Wickedly blindness.   Those gadgets you have hurt, and I bet you didn’t know that.


Well these are tools for you to tour time, travel &c.


MAN GHOST 2 (laughs)

You have got to be joking.   You are pretty smart.  I bet you have super sonic hearing, and been told by some you have some screws loose.



(Finished up the last of the Booby traps to slow down the KINJA.)

Well I got attacked by ticks roofing when I was in my 30’s.  And when I say attacked I mean attacked by hundreds of them.


(Return to the top floor of apartments.)


(playing with LORAINES hair, the WOMAN GHOST 1 was fascinated by LORAINES pretty braided pony tails, & touching her clothes, and patting softly, and holding

LORAINES medallion with fascination, & making sure LORAINE was okay, and she was feeling the softness of LORAINES clothes and hair.)

I will help you be happy in your world rather than force you into ours.

Sound Song: 2 Cyndi Lauper – Girls Just Want To Have Fun

LORAINE (freaking out somewhat, because it has been years since a Ghost touched her, or anyone.)

Thank you.  MICHAEL I thought my Robot Anxiety Scale was bad, you get me, but this.


I hear ya, ask them about military ghosts LORAINE.


Great idea MICHAEL, with our ESP and our new friends we can move mountains, in this case the HALLICHENY, the World Leader, and put the head on the ground.  What is taking HAROLD so long?


Here is your apple for energy, to the core, to the core.   DANCE, dance on the Marbles’ on the floor.


Oh shavril ya.   The UN-sacrifice.


(They noticed more ghosts, and the ghosts were writing on the paper notebooks placed here and there, they were occupied.)

LORAINE (batting sexy eyes)

MICHAEL while they are occupied, I was thinking, we may not make it out of here, and well, I want to be loved on.   Lets go into the bathroom like old times.



Just like the old times.  Okay let me find the water valve, and turn it on, you have me turned on even with that poncho on.

LORAINE (smiles)

You mean, you have not done that yet?  Okay, hurry back.


Ya ya, I have to go back outside.


(thought to herself)

I bet they feel like cattle in a stall.


(Images of the old Chicago stock yards come into play)

(OUTLOUD thought- me I feel like expanding all and all)



(Has a ringing in his ears.  He then checks his super self-filling water bottle, and takes a drink.)


So what happened?


A multiple of things.   We have been slaves since we were signed to a birth certificate and a social security number, furthermore since birth our freedom of religion rights too. There never was a war on drugs.  Then psychological warfare of all kinds.  And answers were always in front of them.


Didn’t people have courage, and try to do something, and fight against the powers that be?


No, they didn’t hit the brakes at the same time.  They were and still is occupied by this digital/information era.


Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

You seem to have a plan.


System has a seven minute gap.   Nature is wide open.

It’s about to get pretty.


(Meets with HAROLD & MAN GHOST 2)

Who’s your friend?  I forgot to hook up the water.   I need you to get out, and go into the van, and get the key.


I’ll check the weather to see if its still raining.  I did find an umbrella here, and I know where it is.

(checked scan, turns off devices)

Get acquainted and equated.


Every one is writing upstairs.


I’ll turn the water on.


See if they brought my piano.   You’re an odd one talking to yourself.


(Looks at his wrist watch red line light stall, to make sure no signal was loading.)


(Finds the umbrella on the way out, it was by the door.)



Where is that man with all the tools?


(Epiphany, this was no ghost this was a master poltergeist, LORAINE thought, gritting her teeth.)


OUTSIDE (near dark.)

SOUND SONG: 3 Cream – Sunshine Of Your Love


(Walking to the van in the rain, and there was a ghost in another van driving by, who thought he was in traffic and spoke.)


Hey, how ya doing?

HAROLD (smiled)

Alright, be safe.

SOUND SONG: 4 Metallica – For Whom the Bell Tolls

(And HAROLD walked with the umbrella to his van in the rain, and looked for the key.)  HAROLD looks to the sky, but he always felt he was being watched regardless of who was inside the van or any where. Inside the van was a young boy ghost sitting there staring at a tool box.   A juvenile trickster determined to plague, grounded into the truck.)


Me, I have always been disqualified like you.

Where is the key? I know it was in the tool box.

Why do I have a warning in my heart? Are they watching me now, that my radar does not pick up on?  Will they turn on me?  I must let go of these negative emotions.

And I have had enough down time and it’s now up-time.

Programmed partly from dreams.  This is how I warn others of this, and you can say the digital climbing spider.   Capturing Ghosts and training them.

(Vomits again)

On-the-dot intuition.  Will I ever again have time alone?   After bringing good news from the other world.  I have been wasted far to long.   Where is that key?

Tommy Tomo where is the key?   I know you are hiding it from me.  Tommy Tomo I brought you out of a sad and bad state.   Give me the key. I ‘am something grand, something that will make life meaningful you told me.  I have my stone you gave me, but I need the key now, because it is our duty to heal our ancestors, and our time is running slim here.

Tommy Tomo (Ghost Boy)

(smiles, and lifts up and gives HAROLD the key to turn on the water.)


(Bathroom, LORAINE looking into the mirror.)

My whole life has been a spin and after spin, and so was my worth. Who are they talking to I wonder?

(LORAINE leaves the bathroom and sees what they are doing.   And one of them a teenager notices LORAINE not walk but glide above the floor as she glided near.)

LORAINE (thinks out-loud)

(They are wondering if they are going to live. Life anxiety, amazing.) She telepathically tells the boy to hush, because school was in session!)

Lets play hide and human seek in this grand labyrinth of a building.


This is romantic.  Power outage about to slam three worlds together maybe four.   A powerless eternity.


This building is full of sharp corners and random objects.

(Water starts to flow with a choking sound from the bathroom faucet.)

Oh it sounds so good, to live, to live in the new, new Testament.

LORAINE (thinking- Where’s is MICHAEL?

We need to bathe, and maybe this horrific smell will go away, & heard MICHAEL chanting a forbidden hymn.)

ADD IN Michael Jackson – Beat It


MICHAEL (Chanting)

What horror must invade the mind
when the approaching KINJAs shall find
and sift the deeds of all mankind!

Now death and nature with surprise
behold the trembling humans rise
to meet the KINJA’s searching eyes.

For now before the KINJA severe
all hidden things must plain appear;
no crime can pass unpunished here.

(the building swayed a little)

SOUND SONG: 5 Gregorian Chant – “Dies Irae”


(Returns with the key)


Did you feel that?

Did your Umbrella fail? Theirs shall.


Yes, it’s normal. Hell the umbrella must be 50 years old, they don’t make them like they used to. (shaking the water from it.) Are you ready to connect the haywires, and place the un-fuseable fuse?


You made a rich banquet.


Inter-hemispheric intrusions.   Every seven damn years since I was 17, I have broke a mirror, so don’t fail me, get the water turned on!


Ya ya, LORAINE is turned on too.


I don’t need to know that. (laughs) She is original, for sure. You all smell horrifyingly.

MAN GHOST 2 (with slight anger)

Okay, where’s my piano?


Simmer down old man.  It’s a small world out there, and it will be here when it gets here.  And that’s the plain truth, and here in a bit more truth will ignite, like an inferno.   Better then any novel or poem.



You are strange.


To tell strange feats of Ghosts, here I ‘am

Strange, but most true they are, ev’n to a dram,

Tho’ Humans cry, ‘tis all a Sham.

MAN GHOST 2 (Grew more angry)

(A door next to them blew off its hinges, and fell to the floor inside the apartment, and a second after that, lots of old marbles came rushing fast through the door, and bounced and rolled through the hall way, and down the wooded floors, and the sound changed everything. (*This is where the film filter reveals the ghosts prior to this point we alive, and LORAINE & MICHAEL & TOMMY TOMO were Poltergeists.”)


You can’t push my buttons.


(Heavy breathing (while his head band camera was recording data, HAROLD quickly’ whipped out his two high tech phones, and took photos of them.)


You went looking for trouble and you found it!


Speaking for myself.   I have held people captive in basements for years.  When I was a child I danced on burned bodies of other children, and their parents while singing my political party’s anthem. I have starved my own people.   I have destroyed schools and I hate education.


Damn it I’ll turn the water on.


Ya do that, while I turn on LORAINE, and get to business as planned.


I want my piano.

(stunned, and walked away)


(Grabbed the key from MICHAEL, and walked away.   A little angry too.)

You need to listen MICHAEL.


(Grew angry, and looked at the marbles, and kicked them, and walked some, and kicked others, and he walked some more, and kicked more.)


LORAINE (drawing with the people where seemed to be ghosts before, and she was chanting the hymn MICHAEL was.)


(The transmitters alarm turned on everywhere, beeping like phones. The people/ghosts stopped writing, and drawing and got up, and went to their phones, their old land line phone to answer them.)


(Visuals (The underground water current moved under the building, into which HAROLD knew was there, and was causing stress on house and it felt like a earthquake.  Beds swayed back and forth, and loud noises where every where.   The basement began to flood.)



(Smiled, it was time to kin, and this changed everything. According to the plan they had.   She looked them in the room.)

I can be your friend for a day, but at night, at night- (snorts)

(The other residents walked down the halls to see what all the commotion was about, and they seen themselves in the mirror dead and dancing. And the horrific smells increased all through the building, all of this through the residents into extreme panic.)




(Turning on the water in the flooding basement. He hooked up a high pressure hose to a splitter he had already installed while down there the first time, &c.  He stretched the hoses out, and climbed the stairs to the first floor, and dry heaves.)


(Standing at the head of the hall way entrance.)

Old man your piano is here!


(Near the end of the hallway, and he turned around, and walked back towards MICHAEL)


(STRETCHED OUT HIS ARMS WIDE cracked his knuckles, and bent down as to play a piano(best segment of this music for scene or some musical performance similar)

Sound Song: 6: Alexander Nevsky: The Battle On The Ice.

Music composed by Sergei Sergeyevich Prokofiev. Irina Gelahova, Dmitry Yablonsky; Russian State Symphony Orchestra, Stanislavsky Chorus


(Ran the other way, slipping and falling from the marbles on the floor.)


(Turned into a clearer poltergeist, and the long connected mirrors on the walls on both sides of hall way began to crack, and the sound played a tune, and slowly the crescendo slung shards of the mirrors everywhere through the hall way, glitter like also.)



(Turned into a clearer poltergeist)


We are going to play ‘Hide and Human Seek’ but with a ol twist, One Ghost Chase All Ghost Chase. I will give you all enough time to hide, by me counting to twenty, like this, One one Thousand, Two one thousand Three one thousand and so forth, and when I count to twenty I will come find you, and once I find you, I will kill you, and once you are dead, I’ll rise your Ghost, and you will help me find the others in the building.  This is why the game is called ‘One Ghost Chase All Ghost Chase.’  It is really fun, Okay I ‘am going to go into the bathroom, and count, and at twenty the game is on…  One Ghost Chase All Ghost Chase shall begin.



(Human-Master Poltergeist Trainer and Electronic Saboteur.)

(Checks to where the KINJA are.   He too has a drone relaying data.)


TOMO (Boy)

(Gets out of the van in the rain, and runs to a basement window, and kicks it in to get in.)



Why can’t you be my friend at night.  As I told you I will help you be happy in your world rather than force you into ours.


How can you?


Let me bathe you, let me un-braid your hair.  I want to see your hair, and play with it.  I also want to know what it is like to be a Super Ghost, with such unique looks?


Family, it’s all about family, unity in time, we are kin, with wisdom through the ages.  And once you get to a certain mind set, from growth you are at the helm of the realm, and this gets you endorsed.  When I was alive, and young I would receive signs, and they had meaning to me.  Like looking into the inside of joy.


Oohhh that’s what I ‘am feeling right now, but this here with you is beyond surreal.


(looked at everyone else in the room)

Most people don’t look at life well, they look at life as stale. And they won’t admit it but they all think they could do better then anyone and they should only be concerned about bettering themselves. If you don’t believe me look at my suicide note.


No thanks.  Money grubbing is dream killing isn’t it?

LORAINE (smiles)

Yes.  Mass dysfunction from true health and healing.


LORAINE I want to be a Ghost now.


So you are ready to go through the life cycle oddity?




I will turn you into a river, so you flow. Flow with your energy. You have invited yourself so let me let you in.

(LORAINE puts both of her hands around WOMAN 1’s neck and chokes her to death.)

WOMAN 1 (spirit comes out of her body, and she cries, I am going to miss the wind upon my body my face. (sobs)


You are the wind now and now you must help me Chase!

(Everyone else in the room runs out of the apartment.)

WOMAN 2 yells out terrified.

You have to count to 20!



(Strode through the water in the basement looking for a duffel bag he is suppose to find, and get things ready for HAROLD. He stopped and went back to the window, and removed all of the glass from the window frame to make it not so obvious, plus a safer way out.  The Dusk was upon them. TOMMY TOMO found the bag, and took out the pump & cans, and got them ready. He then proceeded up the stairs to the top floor to save his KIN.)




(Whining like a cello now, lurking through the halls of the second floor.  Marbles bounced and rolled everywhere.   Thousands of them, and MICHAEL floated above them, moving forward singing his own song, ‘LIFE WAS NOT A VIDEO GAME’.)



Cool your smoke MICHAEL, we need some mirrors!



Yes the un-sacrifice. All for One & One for All.

(Screaming was heard from a couple of people, LORAINE & WOMAN 1 were playing the game ‘chasing’ the living & rising their souls, the residents were homeless people, with clever ingenuity to even be there.)


HAROLD watch this, I have a new trick.

(Slapped his hands together as to warm them up, and every old radiator upright heater got hot and started to steam.)


Applause MICHAELCANO save it for the KINJAS Will ya.







( Air forces could be heard, and squalling brakes.)



(Flew with turbo poltergeist speed scattering marbles on the floors of every floor and apartments.)


(On the top floor racing to turn on every water spicket to flood the top floor, then down to the third floor.)


TOMO TOMO the little juvy escape’ are you ready young boy to rise and poltergeist with me?


Yes.  No.  Yes.


(Put his arm around TOMMY TOMO guided him to a bath tub.)

Take a deep breath.

(Tomo did, and MICHAEL drowned him in the tub.  Laid his body down on the floor and commanded his spirit to rise and flight. )



(Looks out the window and it has stopped raining, and she sees the KINJAs in the parking lot.  Behind her are all of the residents who are now ghosts, all has been chased, and resurrected. But they were not trained like LORAINE, MICHAEL & TOMMY TOMO.  They were a different generation from them.)



(He felt what MICHAEL had done to TOMMY TOMO, and this was not part of the plan. HAROLD cried a bit, and grew very angry at MICHAEL.)

I should have known you killed your one mother, you ruined the life of the only person that truly loved.  You blind motherfucker.   I should have known. Grrr I have to keep my cool.  Horror is all around us. People kill people all the time. They kill friendships. They kill enemy’s.  They kill them with kindness, they kill them of dollars and coins, they kill them over the color of their skin, they kill them over gods, they kill them with the 5 W’s, and they kill them any way they can.

(KINJAs were moving and surrounding the building._


So Wadgy Badgy Tinka Slikna can ya swim, especially after I do a circumcision to your wires, and turn you back into a garbage can? I would feed ya stale cheese puffs but you would not understand.

LORAINE (Comes into the room)


(Prepares for battle.  Puts on a respirator.)

And yes they even kill themselves minusing all the plans.

HAROLD (laughs inside the respirator.)

LORAINE (leaves the room, and prepares for the KINJA.)


(Comes into the room.)


They know all of your weaknesses.


Yours maybe.


Shut up, I’ll deal with you later. Get to your positions. Come on in task force.

(KINJAs come in through the front and back doors of the apartment building.  KINJAS were human like but taller, and to be reminded, they shape shift.)


Welcome to the locker room KINJAs, and I’m going to give you all Digitalateria. (diarrhea of the digital kind.)

(Ghosts all through the building get a mirror, and stand them upright to form a wall, confusing the KINJA.   Slowing them down for HAROLD.)


(Lurks at one KINJA 1.)

Hi there, remember Facebook?  I need some data on someone.

(HAROLD Lunges his short water sword into the throat of this KINJA 1, and injects water into it.  The water seeps through the robot damaging the machine.  Then he get a tool he designed that opens these robots up.  He opens this KINJA 1 up, and rips up a board of chips, and circumcises the KINJA 1 so it’s data bleeds and it dies.)


(Floats above them, and sprays them with water.  KINJAs are confused by the hoses’ suspension in the air.)


(More come in, and move forward, and shatters mirrors the ghosts held, and move more forward.)


(Dispels thousands of marbles on the floor making the KINJAs disorientated slipping, and teetering from their swarming.)

(MICHAEL laughs)


(Battles another KINJA 2)

So you left your luck to heaven.   Well heaven is here to help you.

(HAROLD jams in his water sword, and injects water disabling this one. He opens this KINJA 2 up, and rips up a board of chips, and circumcises this KINJA 2 as well.)

HAROLD(Engages his drone to disable all vehicles, and any signal to call for back up outside in the parking lot.  He also sends a signal to their base, that the HALLICHENEY is dead.)



(Scenes of vehicles being bombed from HAROLDS’ drone.)

SOUND SONG: 7 Queen – Another One Bites the Dust

(Another KINJA 3 comes up to HAROLD, and they were locked in combat.)


I ‘am going to turn your luck around.

(The KINJA 3 shaped shifted into a dog like machine, with ultra hands. It also had a black box on it, and a sound came from it, and grew louder and louder. Something HAROLD did not calculate, this was a swift tactic, so HAROLD ran upstairs holding his hands over his ears.)

ANGLE ON (Down from top staircase)


(DESTROYED the staircase.)

ANGLE ON (Up to the top of staircase)



(Yells out as he runs.)

MICHAEL disable that matrix.  Kill that sound matrix.  Freeze the system.



(Turned into a mist, and seeped into that KINJA 3 like a genie back into its bottle.  And it sounded like a drummer in their banding with bones and chimes.)

(A KINJA 4 shape shifts into a flying machine, and chases after HAROLD.)



(Plays peek boo with a KINJA 5, and hovers a mirror in front of a KINJA 5s’ Face, and then takes it away, toying with this KINJA 5, and then she whirls around the room

smashing the apartment apart in the process.   She then calls on her well of spirits.)

Sound Song: 8 Ministry Psalm 69


MICHAEL disabled the sound frequency, and he misted out of the KINJA 3. The KINJA 3 then changed to a frequency that they could hear, and this made MICHAEL angry, and he returned back into this KINJA 3, and it blew up, starting a fire here in there in this room.



(Her call on her well of spirits creates a red lighting, mixed the fire and short smoke.)



(Puts out the fires)


(HAROLD and KINJA 4 locked eyes, and KINJA 4 transformed into the humanoid.)


So what’s going through your data banks? I want to start a rumor in your system. HALLICHENY is Dead. A new historical record.

(This KINJA 4 was female and spoke.)



(Meaning: Why is it that you will not accept “gods will” that can only save lives that it be gods will for us to deliver you?)

(And sprays nanno spray at HAROLD.)


(Looks at his watch to see what it/she said.)

Ya right. You’re like a male cat, you know that. What’s your name so I can tell your server, what a dick you are, and that’s why people like me hate you, you brutal hunk a junk, and I ‘am going to sling you to Junk.com.  And by the way your lingo is not poetic.

(HAROLD attempts to lunge his sword but failed.)


Unin7,263,838 and Yama3944

(You did not win the genetic lottery did you? Meaning I ‘am and SHE is going to dismember your dead body.)


Ya, I have earned my way, and you will fall at my feet too. Great, and they’ll install me in something like you, and I’ll grease ya up, and show what loving is all about.

(HAROLD parried a lot of blows from KINJA 4, and KINJA 4 chases HAROLD, and they struggle down the hallway of the second floor. Marbles were a issue for both of them.)



(Thought to do remote viewing to figure out which one of these KINJA were in charge.)

Major major what’s your minor.  I ‘am connecting to your data spine there.

(LORAINE located the KINJA in charge, and it was hovering in the corner looking out the window, looking at the destruction in the parking lot. (Camera pan shot.)


(Senses it is being intruded and looks at LORAIN, and Scans Loraine’s blood type, diseases -type of death.  Death by Suicide.)


(engaged into ivisiblity, and orders the other Ghosts to assist MICHAEL.)



(Went towards the dog to bring LORAINE to it, and it worked.)


Run Rugrat, hey you Poker Machine, stay away from my dog you mf. I ‘am going to open your ram, alright, Pearl Harbor all over it! Lets just giving you back your Atari, jam you, slam you, bam bam you.

(And LORAINE disabled KINJA 5.)

SOUND SONG: 9 Pac Man Fever Buckner & Garcia


Now I ‘am going after your Calvary and family tree.


(HAROLD got a look at KINJA 4s’ hands, and they were different.)


(KINJA 4 has a weakness also, it has emotion, a human data glitch, so it has mercy on HAROLD. KINJA 4 Scans Harolds’ blood type diseases, and xrays his organs and bones.)


601252ichi (spoke in English)

Those who have brought humankind forward at all are those who went against the current.  I have a nice current for you Harold.

(KINJA 4 turned into a sexy smart prostitute.)

It’s been twelve years so you felt passions heat.  I have heat for you HAROLD, and I give you permission to be my Master, and I your slave, I ‘am your slave.   I ‘am your solution.


Snake oil.   No, you are my problem.

(He threw a flash bomb in between them, and escaped through a escape route into a hiding place to re-group, and once he got there he felt an odd sensation, and he was getting a psychic blowjob.  He went into a sexual trance.  KINJA 4 turned invisible, and found him.   And they told each other secrets.



(MICHAEL knew LORAINE was in trouble so he went right to her, and fought with the ghosts in battle with the KINJA.)

Point of View

(KINJAs’ Point of Views in battle.)

SOUND SONG: 10 Michael Jackson – Beat It


(KINJAs in view & TOMMY TOMO joins in the battle.)



(Spraying water on KINJAS.)





The building started shaking horizontally, then up and down, then a big shake right to left.




(Casted more marbles on the floors.)


(Conjured a great pillar of light, their power source.)

Children ghosts appeared out of the pillar of light, and gathered together like going caroling.



(Sent a message to all KINJAS in the building.)


There are more above and below. Kentucky wildlife, wasps and slithering snakes.



KINJA I ‘am going to clean your dust now off of your fans. And may the devil chip your chip, and may you all rest in corrosion.


(Sung in plasmic light language. The harmonics un-stimulated the KINJAS.)

Lord of Love.   Usire.  Se-akh se-akh no more roam.   Se-akh se-akh you are home.  We are hear to rhyme, so you don’t die a second time. We are loyal to your royal!  Your life is happening again.  Welcome, welcome, into this, your house of the living!  We have your crown.   We have your feathers. We have your crook and flail.

The KINJA lost all powers. Some stood in motion.  Some collapsed to the ground.


(Cut them into pieces and parts.)


Water filled the basement.

SOUND SONG: 11 Testament – Dog Faced Gods





(Searched for MICHAELS remains and found them.)



(Were married in cosmic matrimony, eye to eye with Usire, the Lord of Love.)



(Was sleeping on a raft in the basement, the sun was shinning through the basement window, and birds were chirping. Disabled and dead KINJA 4 was sunk to the bottom of the basement floor. An elephant fish swam by, and LORAINE & MICHAEL & TOMMY TOMO trys to awake HAROLD.)

(They all three in synch say with their souls above and below the water.)

We love you HAROLD thank you for your help.

The earth started to rumble and sink holes appeared every where. Ocean waves cleared coast lines, as if Mother Nature was removing a Callus’s and Scabs…

SOUND SONG: 12 Peter Gabriel Of These, Hope Reprise

1st Draft 6 Feb 2016

ya ya the C inside the Circle John E. WordSlinger


Soundtrack Playlist:


a special thank you to Michelle Morris, Paula Thomas, Munia Khan, Selena Howard, Lisa Foster,  and Christopher & Cody O’Hara for reading this screenplay while being written and wisdom.

Poetry Train Africa Chapter 1 Cape Town South Africa, The Arrival by the Sea of Darkness

Posted in John E WordSlinger, Poetry, Poetry E Train, Poetry Promotion, Poetry Train with tags , , , on November 23, 2015 by johnewordslinger

Photo Source: http://www.chavonnesbattery.co.za/

Poetry Train Africa

by John E. O’Hara aka John E. WordSlinger

Toyota Mathias Safari the Literary Body Guard of this work.

Chapter 1 (raw format)

Cape Town South Africa

23rd of November 2015
The Arrival by the Sea of Darkness

The W.D. Lawrence ship and the Atlantic ocean aka the Sea of Darkness were getting acquainted very well, and were on the verge of getting acquainted with American merchant ships and British ships, furthermore maritime law and marauding outlaws aka Pirates, Pirates of Human Life aka Slave Traders. The Royal Navy were near and the W.D. Lawrence ship was in neutral waters. Animals and friends of Red and Andy were the only cargo, no cannons, no guns of any kind or ammunition.

Red, Andy and Scratch were on deck enjoying the nights astronomical show, the nights light screaming destiny. They were feeling venture, success and mad love unfolding. Rats on the ship were assumed to jump ship because none were seen on the journey, and this gave them both a feeling of no under-handing and gnawing of the evil side of human nature, but then they thought of sinking. What was worse sinking or be eaten alive, by sharks or humans, yes cannibalism crossed their minds? Scratch was a big cat, that no big rat wanted to tangle with, and taking care of a Mountain Lion in Africa, Africa known then as Guinea aka the Dark Continent was going to be a task for Red and Andy. Although Scratch was domesticated thanks to Sherbrooke.

Food from the homeland crossed their minds and stomachs.

Andy they say these waters are haunted by much Dutch, Red spoke and laughed.

Andy laughed and replied, “Along with Darwin, and the Beagle ship.”

Tropical diseases are things we need to think about Andy, when it comes to us and Scratch, said Red.

“Yes, my poetry buccaneer friend, we are in the age of discovery, oh ya Rediscovery,” Andy replied with more laughing.

Red laughed and replied, I wonder where poetry will navigate us Andy?

“The mystery of the rail trail is in the stars,” Andy replied as he sat on a barrel of drinking water on the ships deck. He then looked at sloops and schooners at sea.

Red noticed a ship on fire, and other ships around it relaying cargo, and rescuing people.

And so did the Captain, and he announced it was the ship Helen, known to carry the explorer Alfred Russel Wallace, and his specimens of species.

Andy I know most of these ships we see are slave ships, said Red.

Andy glanced down and said, “I agree, and we can’t interfere, time codes.” Andy had imagery moving in his thoughts, slaves chained and being thrown over board as he has read before in the story of Dido Elizabeth Belle and the Zong massacre. Belle who was a slave, but became free and a heiress to William Murray aka Lord Mansfield.

The black man Mahommah Gardo Baquaqua was on a ship out there to Brazil to be a slave, furthermore and luckily he wrote a diary. The black woman Saartjie “Sarah” Baartman aka Hottentot Venus was on her way out there to Britain to be in the Piccadilly Circus, and to be treated like an animal.

Red looked at all ships all around them, and the horrors on board, furthermore the choices the slaves had of death and slavery, the largest forced human migration in human history, and one tear was born in Reds’ eye for thousands and thousands in motion to slavery. Red spoke sarcastically, I was gonna make a time travel joke, but then my future self showed up and told me not to, because it’s a good one. The joke was about the worlds restore point, so I understood and kept it to myself so I can be there again when I wrote it.

Andy smiled because of Reds’ mentality, and Andy thought of Danger, Doom and Dreads sister, and she was master of the wild sea and the land, the land of the villages and rain forests of Africa. Andy sensed the terrible transformation. Human piracy. Every coast was a slave coast. Rum, gold and guns ruled over the spiritual, and to mention cocoa, sugar, and ivory. Andy then said, Hatari! And that meant Danger.

Red looked on at the Great ‘Middle Passage,’ the sea and thought of Olaudah Equiano aka Gustavus Vassa and the Sons of Africa, and his accomplishments, and his travels throughout England, Scotland, and Ireland promoting his memoir book. Olaudah “one who has a loud voice and is well spoken, and signifies good fortune.” Red hoped too that he and Andy’s journey to and on Africa were of good omens, and the continuation of mysterious signs.

Andy looked on and thought about the explorer Mungo Park and his mysterious disappearance or so called drowning in Niger, the fabled City of Tambuctoo aka Timbuktu. The meadows of gold, and Andy thought of Parks last words “I shall set sail for the east with the fixed resolution to discover the termination of the Niger or perish in the attempt. Though all the Europeans who are with me should die, and though I were myself half dead, I would still persevere, and if I could not succeed in the object of my journey, I would at least die on the Niger.” Andy then thought about transportation once there, no servants but guides and horses, and the thought of his own death in Africa.

Food from the homeland crossed their minds and stomachs again, and then they remembered that slaves were fed foods from their homelands to ease the adjustments. Yam slips, millet, and melon seeds and to raise goats, chickens, and guinea hens were allowed. The Bermuda Triangle maybe the curse of the Trade Triangle, slaves, sugar and molasses to the Americas, and rum to Africa. They both looked at the ships anchor chains and thought they have not heard the sound of them in weeks. Andy and Red were thankful of life, and thankful for the ships chef, as they looked at the moon in its’ quarter light, and they both knew the sea gave no quarter.

The secret commerce Raider and Confederate CSS Alabama ship aka Hull number 290 also known as the American Wolf of the Deep and Captain Raphael Semmes and John Low followed the W.D. Lawrence ship to the shores of Africa, the shores of Cape Town. The Cape of Good Hope. The CSS Alabama was returning from Santa Catarina, Brazil.

The Kingdoms of Africa, and all its wisdom were about to be upon Red and Andys’ eyes and hearts.

The Wind started to move and Red sung the song “Daar kom die Alibama”

There comes the Alabama,
The Alabama, it comes o’er the sea,
There comes the Alabama,
The Alabama, it comes o’er the sea…
Lass, lass, the reed bed calls,
The reed bed it is made,
The reed bed it is made for me,
To sleep upon…
Oh Alabama, the Alabama,
Oh Alabama, it comes o’er the sea,
Oh Alabama, the Alabama,
Oh Alabama, it comes o’er the sea…

Andy laughed and said, “Poetry wind 101, if you don’t know how to tie a not, tie it a lot. Thank you, a Billy Pawn shake up.”

Red laughed, and said, I wonder how Billy is?

Andy replied, “I wonder too, Red, as I look up at the nights sky many thoughts come to mind, Land Diamonds and Sky Diamonds, and for sure as the Kings Star aka Davids star and the Hexagram, triangle this and triangle that, furthermore the definition of hex. All of this is a mystery to mankind or to me. Look at our current position of the earth and sky. Red, the tree of life, unconditional love for the self and others? As above so it is below, and Red why does time and space traveling come to mind?”

Red laughed and said, Because we are doing it. Like the sunshine is about to walk the waters.

“I see said the blind man and he picked up his hammer and saw,” Andy replying as he jumped down off of the barrel of water. “Love and Wisdom. Look Red how beautiful those mountain ridges are!”

The sun knows when to exploit the environment, Red replying with gleaming eyes and a smile, The great Cape Peninsula of Africa. Hope of Good is beautiful.

They both noticed sharks everywhere in the sea, and the shores moving with life, the Chacma Baboons, searching through seaweed for shark eggs.

The tides call us Andy to work two very tight schedules, said Red and ready to carry on.

“We have to love it Red,” Andy replied, “I remember being 7 years old at the Brookfield Zoo in Chicago, and my mother had to peel my hands from the fence bar, because I was so fascinated by Baboons, I told her there is something about them Mom, and not long after that a zoo keeper walked by with a baby chimpanzee and I got to hold him or her. All I can say Red is, We are following the mystery of all this, seeded in us, as mentioned in Poetry Train Canada about when I was a boy with Wild Kingdom and animal toys. I remember my uncle Terry that day too said something that them baboons will tear you to pieces, that maybe so, but I think we tore them to pieces, so who lost the connection or forced it? Stick with it they tell us, slowly we ride through time.”

Port Elizabeth of Cape Town was filled with many sea vessels, war ships, slave ships and who knows what else ships.

Fredrick Dibbley came on deck, and spoke, “Are you ready for some explorations? Slow and Hellishly Wobbly it has been!”

And they all laughed as the W.D. Lawrence anchored, and boats were lowered to make way to dock at the merchants yard, furthermore cargo boats coming to gather the animals.

“Red they are going to trip on you,” said Fredrick Dibbley.

Ya, well, they’ll trip on ol’ Scratch here too, Red replied with delight. I just don’t get it yet, because they think this Alabama ship is here to rescue them. We are about to witness horrors not ever seen. Red looked back north, and knew America was a long way, and these chained black men were on their way to living hell, brutal cruelty, but hell was here too, because bodies were floating, swaying in the tides.

“Once ashore gentlemen, we need to purchase horses, and a wagon,” Andy proclaimed. “We did not sink, but sunk further into synchronicity.”

Why do you insist on horses when we need to get to the town of Elizabeth? Red asked.

“To keep it old school and to be in the invisible mode, and plus we are mailmen and that’s the only way we will pass through customs, so we begin our service at the Cape Town station.” Andy replied laughing.

Andy this is not the wild west, Red replied, This is the true wild, and we maybe the wild game if we don’t play are cards correctly. Maybe we should be circus clowns.

“Correct Red, Jesse James taught us a lot, never forget that,” Andy replied, laughing again, “And hey that’s not a bad idea.”

Ya and you are just as crazy as he is, Red replied laughing, What about a road steam tractor? We can apply for grain jobs.

“Get the grain out of your brain, Red it shall be train or horseback Red,” Andy proclaimed.

The closer they got drums grew in persistence and volume. And Scratch the Mountain Lion roared upon the ship to shore.

We are here for a purpose, Red proclaimed, as he chained a chain around Scratch’s neck for precaution, and said, Andy for further precaution if asked I ‘am your servant.

Andy looked at Red, and said, “Unlike our species who moronically hunt, and eliminate the best examples of a species. I shall do, only for survival purposes, and the poetry train. Lets have some fun everyone, and witness the serpent eating its own tail or tale. Here we come to the cradle of mankind, here we come.”

Cape Town was infested with life and building. Astonishing architecture. More astonishing then that was the fact that once ashore, Fredrick Dibbley commented out, the Explorer David Livingstone was walking behind them with his servants, and talking aloud about, he was tired of using berry juice for ink, and complaining about ivory, guns and slavery.

Classic, Red and Andy spoke in synchronicity, “Classic, berry juice who would have ever thought!”

The very young Poet Herbert Ernest Dhlomo walked up to them and asked in poem fashion, “Would you have me as a brother
Or a revengeful beast?
Would you have us help each other,
Or have our hates increased?
Would you have us live despairing?
&c &c

Andy spoke, Brother of course, Despair got his ass kicked in Canada!” Andy looked around and said, “I ‘am going to love this place, I hear no ravens, and that’s a great sign.”

Herbert spoke, “Brothers then open your minds, you see, Nongqawuse aka the Prophetess of Doom saw the faces of her ancestors appearing in the pool. They told her that they would drive all the white settlers out of the country. A huge wind would come up and blow all the settlers into the sea. But first, as an act of faith to prove their belief in the world of the spirits, the Xhosa would have to kill all their cattle and destroy all their crops. So the ravens are there, would you like to see the Gxara River?

Andy looked around, licked his finger, and held it out to feel for wind, and said, “Lead the way, we did not come here for nothing.”

The young Poet Benedict Wallet Vilakazi noticed them too, and followed them, and once they noticed him he spoke, We are the cattle, so if I pass, bury me where the grasses grow. Below the weeping willow trees. To let their branches shed upon me.”

Red and Andy looked at each other in awe, and the awe was just beginning to awe-strike more, when they noticed a baboon working the rail switches at the Uitenhage train station. A signalman there named James Edwin ‘Jumper’ Wide who was wounded and had his legs dismembered from jumping rail-cars supervised the Baboon named Jack. The train whistle and hand signals from James Wide controlled, provided instruction for Jack to work, and he worked with no mistake, but once Jack seen Scratch he went ballistic, and fiercely ran up and down the station trying to frighten them, and it worked. Red, Andy, Fredrick and Scratch ran away to keep from to much attention. This startled them and startled them awake. Red and Andy slept deep and good, and they looked around their rooms at the British Victoria Falls Hotel and remembered the Poet Toyota M. Safari brought them there, and he would be returning this morning to guide them to Rovos Rail, one of the world’s ultimate luxury rail trips on the famous Blue Train between Cape Town and Dar es Salaam. This 15-day private rail tour aboard The Pride of Africa stretches across South Africa and Botswana, touches Zimbabwe at Victoria Falls, and crosses Zambia to Tanzania. From Kimberley’s diamonds to a deluxe South Africa game lodge, to Africa’s Great Rift Valley.

Andy awoke and fell quickly back asleep waiting on Toyota M. Safari. He dreampt of a life, someone’s lives in the U.S.A. It was a boy who was hiding in the weeds near a railroad bridge waiting on his father who was a train engineer. The boy waited for the Lawson train to stop, and his father to signal with a flashlight for his son to come aboard the train. His father had to keep a low profile when letting his son ride the train. He told his son, “The railroad owns so much property and they don’t even know where most of it is, imagine that, and one day hopefully some people come to their senses to organize and realize so much is lost by people not caring for what is right. Railroads are right, but. Fear, fear son, is a killer. Be courageous, and poetic, and realize money can be a show that leads folks away from the spirit and nature of their natural born intentions. True diverse people unite, not divide.”

Andy looked deeper at them in his dream and awoke by an internet phone call on Facebook from Toyota. Andy missed the call, and thought of his dream, as he messaged back. The dream made him recall about what a friend said back in the U.S.A. “The problem is politics, or was that lunatics in politics? Something like that but execrated from there. Oh Doom, you are in my realm, buried 7 feet under.

Red awoke and fell quickly asleep waiting on Toyota too, and was dreaming in a dark forest and hearing a voice of a lady. “Do don’t despise, and don’t close your eyes, ears and heart to the ancients. Be a guardian of the Kumm. You have to show respect you are on holy ground. And he heard some clicks /, //, ≠, ! and Θ, and Beware of the Owls here.” He then heard a roar of a lion, and the sound of a river. Red awoke, the river was the Zambesi singing from the open window of the hotel.

Red laid there thinking he and Andy were about to learn about the most of primitive times left on the face of the earth, a true ancient race. Why was the message to fear the Owls, when in the U.S.A. they guided he and Andy to the ‘Great Straw of Time’. Red got up, and ready furthermore excited to explore poetry, railroads here, and trains, furthermore art carved on the figures of mammoths and extinct animals on tusks of ivory from this fair land. Red had to tell Andy about the dream and message about the Owls.

Good Morning Mathias, we are stories too, that floated from afar, but log rolling by sea is not so easy, says Andy in a message and laughs out loud. I hear we are suppose to describe our moods around here, then say content. The wisdom of Wilhelm Bleek and Lucy Lloyd. Files sent, Me and Red will be in the lobby, Good day-

P.S. We broke water, and don’t make us break out of the Breakwater prison. Wait we did, back in Canada, and Andy laughs again.

Red was reciting the poem ‘The Congo Poem’ by Vachel Lindsay as he met Andy in the lobby.

“Nice,” Andy replied in awe at the poem, but remembering some what of it. Red, 101 here, W. H. I. Bleek and L. C. Lloyd, and their accomplishments, and devotion on the Bushmen Poetry. We must explore there, with devotion and nobility but we are not,” Andy laughed and said, “Scientists.”

Red laughed too, and said, Make sure we have our, otjize paste, a cosmetic mixture of butterfat and ochre pigment to protect us from the suns rays. And I hear ya, lets go get blinded by poetry.

Andy spoke, “Oh ya Mathias, knows it was a rough ride, and he says, there is sunshine after the rain, so ya, we need some otjize paste,” and laughs.

Red looked at Andy sadly, and spoke, The Bushman Folklore & People are intense, laws of the jungle &c &c reminds me of nationalities and prejudices of the human races. Saddens me Andy, everyone is brainwashed and suffering from world affairs in their own place and I see a lot of prejudice people from all walks of life everywhere believe me it is a sad disease and the sad disease of war. They are poetry’s enemies too.

“Ya well, stop looking at everyone’s posts and the news,” Andy replied, “I also called for an assistant to join us Red, and they said his name was Boet Fritz, can you believe that, and he’ll be in the lobby soon.”

The Victoria Falls Hotel was the best they have ever seen they thought as they walked out of their dreamy rooms, and down the staircase to the lobby. The walls were covered with taxidermy animal heads, that seemed like an ironic display to them, but the African sunshine was revealing classic carpentry skills pulling in the spirit to the place. The place has a fragrance unlike they have ever known. The view outside the back windows of this overseas place was sea breeze moving the palm trees and they were calling. The comfortable furniture was calling too, and the art work was pulling them into the past. And there was a Railroad Bridge to be seen way off in the distance through a back door that lead to an outdoor patio and there stood the one and only Poet Toyota M. Safari. The birds were singing, and this made Andy think of the Tree of Many Souls back in Illinois, to whom a great Poet Madelynn from there shown him back in 2009.

Toyota M. Safari asks, “So you are interested in new voices?”

“Yes we are very interested in the new voices? Andy replies, “And yes, you must be aware, I know you know Time tells all about Poets, and it will for us too, after we are dead and gone, but know this and think of this, our love for Poetry regardless how one feels is if we want to read Poets in Africa in the 18th & 19th Century we shall and believe me,” Andy looks at Red, “There are gaps and Poems that may not have been great for them or the world back then or now, but the thing is this information are pieces to the puzzle. Little beautiful things people missed. The realm we found from Poets in America and Canada back in the day is beautiful, and we are all part of it, skilled Poets or not because we are all connected. Think about it, that’s how you met us. The realm lead us.”

Toyota M. Safari spoke, “Andy, you are a bit abstract… the average person here only finishes grade 7, and English isn’t a cup of tea. You may consider cutting to Bare bones!”

Andy listened, and asks, “Is abstract bare? Give me an example of bare bones, because I find what we do basic, and truthful, and I understand about the Poets you mentioned by phone, they don’t get it, and I have been told by many Poets the same thing, and not to many are, so I understand but you can’t change people, you can only inspire and hope the art of listening kicks in.

Toyota M. Safari replies, “Andy we are opposites. I personally don’t believe in dragging to the surface poets who don’t seem good enough… If 10 read and say they haven’t liked, then it snowballs on the potential market… If a poet writes complicated or abstract or mediocre stuff then it’s an error to highlight that as a revelation. Why don’t you do an amplified version of an anthology to help the train and get them known. What exactly am I to do in the whole process? I don’t know why we must be smugglers of them to Africa…. If they have no attachment to the continent… Can’t we write the type of work to be.

Andy looks at Red and says, “I like the way this man thinks Red, he is looking out for us and the Poets of Africa, and I understand his logic and intentions, and it is true. This shows dignity, integrity and also the spirit shines.”

The song ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond’ comes to mind by Pink Floyd to Andy, and was tele-thinking to Red does Mathias realize we have a long train and we have read a lot of poetry. Mathias was a Legend in the making.

Red got the tele-thought: Rode on the steel breeze, Rhodes, Cecil John and ‘Yes’ Red thought back. “The mystery of the rail trail is in the stars.”

“A top collection shouldn’t struggle to make a good name,” said Toyota M. Safari.

“Me and Red have never published a book of poetry of best poets for history or commercial,” said Andy.

Toyota M. Safari spoke, “We are not going to agree on the theory of people and poetry, but to clarify…. One, the project is yours. We are not going to fight over who owns what. I will help you identify the best, but if it involves giving space to mediocre poets, then I can go up to some point… Africa is developing at a supersonic speed. They will collapse if they tried to tell other storyline… See Africa for yourself… To me let’s go by ruthless merit; if anyone can do write stunningly on anything related to Africa.. Then he or she is welcome. We can go to mutual interests, we can agree on helping… But on uniting… I’m not in…

Andy looks at Red, knowing Mathias does not know the realm fully, the connectedness of all poets and says, “The project is ours, if you want it to be ours. You, me and Red and Poets that want to. We will work as a team on this anthology and get it done. We can make a fine book now, been taught well, by Charlie and the net. We just need great content and art for the book cover.”

Toyota M. Safari spoke, “Africa has much untapped poetry. Be good works there can easily get avenues…. Get solid info, on online sales and we work on projections… Just anticipate the minds of the reader and market trends. It’s not rocket science I believe… And to me writing shouldn’t be an end in itself, should it?”

Andy replied, “WordSlinging is a science of the spirit of language, all languages.”

Toyota M. Safari looks them both in the eyes and said, “The conquest of South Africa again. Read about Cecil Rhodes and Moffatt treaty. The ghost of Cecil Rhodes demands a mukomboti drink in a golden cup as we board a train to Soweto.

Red thinks about his dream and felt ghosts of this and that and all liking. His intuition was sprucing.

Toyota M. Safari looks at Red and then Andy and says, “South Africa was fairly advanced and conquest took years of bloodshed. Then apartheid…. And modern complex issues. I know poets from the place…. So how much can someone know about Africa ¿ These are basics to be handed.”

Andy looks at Mathias and says, “You are a great poet, and let no one tell you different, and I ‘am slowly understanding your principles and views, and I admire that. I also see you are a protector also, and I admire that too…”

Toyota M. Safari smiles, and says, “Thank you Andy.”

Andy looks at Mathias and says, “We look forward to the years with you Mathias, and if our forearms get blown off like in a shooting accident or &c, we will too write with a pen tied to our elbow joints, like John Cooper-Chadwick. And no worries Mathias, we’ll keep an eye out for those like Sirkusbaas Frank Fillis, his Groote Circus, and his Motley Shakespearean clowns and fools from trying to ‘catnap’ aka kidnap Scratch, our domesticated Canadian Mountain Lion that represents Hope and Faith. And yes Scratch is a like a gladiatorial spectacle, and was lost in the mist of time, but we found him, by the mystery of the rail trail in the stars, as we found each other. And Danger heed, here comes the Poetry Train!”

Mathias looks at Andy like he is crazy, and Red just grins.

Andy continues to say, “Frank Fillis is corporate to this madness of life’s circus,” and Andy laughs. You know the Railway Saloon Coach and the Boswell’s Royal Hippodrome and Circus Company. You see we are too knockout clowns me and Red, just tell them I ‘am Comical Andy and this is Silly Red. We haven’t performed our Breakaway Train act yet, similar to the breakaway ladder act, you know a long ladder planted in the centre of the ring, and you climb it, steadily removing the rungs as you go. Discarding the last rung and one of the uprights, proceeding to do a head balance on the top of the single pole. You shout to the orchestra for “Music, music” as you complete each trick. But in our case we shout “Poetry, poetry” and Poets run into the ring, cavorting all about us, and fireworks are let off as the climax to our performances,” and Andy laughs, “Th’Wicked Papoose Caboose Act like!”

Maybe Poetry Train needs a band, Red replied, like the Circus does?

Andy laughs, and says, “Freaking Brilliant, but they must be grateful, dependable and loyal, and not a threat to world peace.”

Ya ya yam yam, Red replies laughing, Keep in mind we are no Ormonde Penstone with a fountain of fire and stuff. Red thought about something, world wars ruin everything good people do, and that gut feeling came, of hope, that war would not break out while he and Andy were in Africa, for so many reasons.

I have read about this Little Rene the un-tamable Lion of yesteryear, and unlike American Poetry Circus’s we allow our Elephants to roam free, and Red laughs. We have no Poets that will box a Kangaroo though, maybe Dominic Albanese and Red laughs again. So Mathias, take us to your leaders, your poetry entourage, and your poetry menagerie.

Andy thought about Jung Hem Sing and his remarkable smoothness from the U.S.A. Journey. And the notion of curiosity of the effects of television here in South Africa too.

Mathias looks at Andy and says, “I ‘am watching the locomotive lazily get out of the station, the world is yet to see what will hit it.”

Andy laughs and replies, “Ya blame the laziness of the coldness of the world, remember the turtle, and its wisdom. Red I think Mathias is trying to fatten us up for the kill,” says Andy and laughs. Andy looks at Mathias and says, “Cecil John Rhodes use to say, So little done, so much to do.”

Red laughs and replies, and he also said, “I have found out one thing and that is, if you have an idea, and it is a good idea, if you only stick to it you will come out all right.”

“Excuse me Gentlemen are you Red and Andy from Canada the traveling clowns? I ‘am Boet Duve Fritz your hired assistant.”

Andy looks at Red and laughs, and replies, “Yes, we are, thank you. I ‘am Andy Sandihands and this is Red Regatta, and this is Toyota Mathias Safari, and he is our guide, and he is one heck of Poet. Nice to meet you, we hope you like poetry Boet.” Andy laughs and says, “Your name is very unique I love it. Boet are you a Poet? And Mr. Safari, lets go on this Poet Safari.”

“No Sir,’ Boet repleid, “But I wanted to be a train engineer, so I have been surviving by wisdom, like the wisdom of King Lobengula Khumalo, and he once said “The chameleon gets behind the fly, remains motionless for some time, then he advances very slowly and gently, first putting forward one leg and then another. At last, when well within reach, he darts his tongue and the fly disappears. England is the chameleon and I ‘am that fly. So Andy and Red be aware that we people hope you are not like England.

Red and Andys’ eye brows arose, and looked at each other, and Mathias smiled at Boet and looked at Red and Andy with a curious eye. Andy then thought about Lord Durham, his wisdom and kindness, the missionary crusade in Africa and the cannibalism. He also thought about what Mathias told him, that Unity would not work, Jesus tried. For the Love of God Andy thought madness over earthly things. No wonder why Lord Durham had many headaches. What is worse cannibalism or mind cannibalism. Fear, people fear each other, and with past madness how can you blame them. Skills of killing. So sad Andy thought. Andy looked at Red, and knew that he too, felt Danger, Doom and Dreads’ sister, she was alive and well, here on the Continent of Africa.

Red sensed it too and changed the subject and spoke, So where’s the morning feast and the poetry celebrations? Food from our homeland crossed our minds and stomachs, so we have dealt with not having it so, Mathias and Boet, lets feast upon this glorious morning of foods and drink of your homeland, and to Soweto, the Mother City, we go by Train. And also lets digest this grand poetry and food slowly for one can’t swallow it whole, our stomachs and minds will hurt, and Red laughs. Gentlemen did you know Andy here wants to travel to Poets by Horseback?

And everyone laughs.

Andy stated, “We hear they have 8 seated railroad bicycles here, now that would suffice too.”

Boet Duve Fritz replied, “Yes they have one at the Kimberly Museum.”

“Nice, that is just Luve Duve Boet,” Andy replied smiling.

So what do you recommend for nutrition Mathias? Red asks. We hear Bambara, Bunny Chow, Chakalaka, Mealie, Morogo, Umngqusho, and Rooibos tea is supreme.

Mathias replied, “I always go for posho, meat and sausages, buggers whenever I can.”

Sounds like a plan, said Red, Lead the way you are the man Mathias.
“Rovos Rail here we come,” Mathias proclaimed, “To the dining car.”

“I can’t get the beauty of this place out of my mind,” Andy says, “The rugged cliffs, wet with ocean spray. Table Mountain, and for sure Victoria Falls and the Bridge, and the spray from the Falls.”

You may have a point Andy, Red explains, Ewart Scott Grogan walked the continent of Africa, so horseback seems good enough for me or this 8 seated Railway bike.

“Ha ha,” Andy laughs, “For love and glory, we too must face the rhinos too. Ewart even said, He never tired form sitting by the seaside and watching.”

“He wasn’t liked here,” said Boet “Because he got away with murder, but was a hero in America. He met the great Mark Twain. I will go a head of you all, and get us the tickets to board the Blue Train, with 4 of the finest suites, and a cart for our baggage. Although the Tiffany Train is super too. Rovos Rail is amazing, see you three inside soon. It travels through 1600 kilometres plus of Southern African scenery. The land of winery’s, and safari’s.”

“The Rovos is prepared to go,” Mathias proclaims,” To Soweto to meet my Poet friends, and we can go to my home for a while so you two can rest. Red the red carpet has been rolled out for you,” and Mathias laughs.

Red laughs and says, Ya it’s been years since we been in a place like a homestead. Nice. Red walks into the station happy as can be. Andy looks at everything, and Boet meets them with their tickets and their luggage has been brought to their rooms by Rovos Rail Porters.

They all board the “Blue Train and Boet says, “The Tour Guide wants to meet you three so he can properly introduce you to the other passengers.”

“Nice this ‘Make Her Dash Train aka the Blue Train’ is beautiful inside and out,” Andy proclaimed as they boarded, “So where is the Tavern of the Seas’ car with the finest South African Wines?” Andy asked and laughed. Andy thought about the game ‘Hide & Ghost Seek” and contemplated “Hide & Poet Seek like diamonds to extract them from where they be, so the world sees their poetic spiritual beauty. Ah Andy thought this is why the call it the Tiffany train. Found ya.

Red walked up to Andy and says, I always knew we were Poet Jewelers, and laughs as the Train started to move.

“We know what we have accomplished Red,” Andy replied, “And Mathias is a gift to us and the World of Poetry, you’ll see Red, you’ll see, a mad scramble for historical Poetry & Poets we shall bring to the world.”

Mathias looks at them two and says, “You two Poetologists and Poem Collectors, the World needs to see, read, and listen to the best Poetry of Africa, it has been to long.”

“The Blue Train, The Blue Box, interesting, indeed Mathias, indeed, and all in due time,” says Andy, “The mind mine museum, the world shall see them, so let yonder to this great observation car. I want to see animals.”

Andy and Red got into the African mind zone as the train motioned on.
They knew back home in the U.S.A. Poets wanted the same thing, an audience but there were those that would like most, do anything to take the spotlight. And they would judge for themselves what was right, and do wrong in the process. Online poetry was just like all things, they knew from these journeys, a free for all, so they hoped the mentality of the Poets in Africa was different. Andy looked at Red and said, “One time when I roofed, an older man, who was also a Roofer listened to me with things happening back then in my life, and he told me “Jealousy gets no one anywhere, just be you and be the best you can do, be not jealous of anyone, and if they are jealous of you, they will do anything to damage you, because all in all, deep down inside, they just want to be you.” Red after all we have done and we do, it is amazing working with you, thanks for being here with me, doing what we love to do.”

It’s okay Andy, Red replied, I see what and who you are getting at, let it and them be. All I can say is they have the Me’ Me Disease. They not know the art of listening, reading and for sure true Unity. Enjoy here, this beautiful no where else on earth, Africa. Put the past behind us, it’s written. They are like Cecil Rhodes, they want to find a country and name it after themselves. Divided Poet Supremacy you can say! They do not know Andy.

Mathias, Boet, Red and Andy sipped some wine, and looked out the gold tinted windows of the Blue Train, that put the glare of the sun down and the snare of the mental snake pit that hissed in Andy’s mind, he thought about the O.P. Days, and his mongoose spirit. He also thought about the gullibility of people, and all he has gone through in the poetry world before these journeys. Andy thought about tagging these snake poets back in the U.S.A. And calling them out but he thought no, I ‘am, we are better then that. Although drama makes the world go round, but not today, not today, so Andy took Red’s advice and let it be. Andy did laugh on the inside because he knew that most did not realize that he could see through people and their intentions online and offline, and they jump the gun, and they have no ammo. Andy & Red and have the guns and the ammo, but no, Andy thought, no. We must press on, and let them follow their hiss. Andy looked at everyone’s reflection on the windows and smiled.

So where and who do we begin with our spirited discussions with? Red asked. Maybe the Poet Diana Ferrus because of what Dr. Willa Boezak believes. In 1998 Dianna played a major role in helping bring Sara Baartman home. Boezak said: “It took the power of a woman, through a simple, loving poem, to move hard politicians into action.” So the power of poetry from women? Red looked at Andy, and knew what Andy was thinking. The Poetry promoting playbook from Canada.

Red replies, Diana Ferrus believes poetry heals, and memory, personal and collective are the tools to do it. To dare not to commit the same old same old.

“Nice,” said Andy laughs, “Ya, like we just talked about, some folks just do not get it! Right where we left off in Canada Red about the power of memory for Poets, and Historians. You see Mathias connection. Rather we like it or not, it is, we are connected, and we live with scars of all. And with the world we live in today, we must identify this, so back to healing. If we were women Red doing this, what would you think would be? Would we be more privileged?”

Red replied, In the old days Andy, I think we would get used and abused, now today, well, depends. You have female perspectives we know nothing about truly.

“Being further away from Poetry may bring us closer to Poets,” said Andy, “And also Red we can’t forget about our secrets no one knows about. Maneuvering through Dangers’ Teeth.”

Red laughed and said, Yes as also Diana Ferrus says Poetry can help great arguments, so ya ya yam yam, you know we can.

Andy looks at Mathias, and seen in his eyes how important this is to him. Andy also had a talk with Mathias about starting a press, and the responsibilities. The Long Haul, slow and easy. Andy got up and asked everyone, “More wine?” and sung some of the song “Take it Easy” by Foghat. Whoo!

Red laughed and got up and said, Lets get to the lounge, a Poetry Train Africa time travel swell, ‘Lets’ Get Jiggy With It, What, “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It” a Will Smith Song. Thinking here we come, pyramid bound. Come on you two.

Mathias and Boet smiled and followed Red and Andy.

Red caught up with Andy and said, May we need an armored train and laughed.

“Why?” Andy asked.

Well a blockhouse system, for what is beyond our control. Red replied laughing, To fence off. Let me create something on Facebook called Train Kept A-Rollin: Postings for The Wicked Papoose Caboose: Wisdom for them you about Poetry Presses.

Andy laughs and says, “Fear creates Gods. It’s actually hilarious. Follow your hiss folks, follow your hiss.”

Mathias was talking on his phone in the language of Lingala, and this triggered thoughts for Red on the Journalist & Writer Solomon Tshekisho Plaatje who translated William Shakespeare’s works into Setswana and collected African folklore and proverbs furthermore traveled around the country on a bicycle. Mathias can you translate poems into Lingala?

Andy then randomly blurted out, “There is no such thing as spiderwire or e-wire, like karma bs, some man made-shit to catch real spirits in the flesh or some other kind of catch 23.” Andy laughs and says, “Men get the Medea’s too! So Boet you wanted to be a train engineer, tell me about this dream, please.”

Red was at work in talks online with Publishers Antonio D’Alfonso from Canada, Dany WR from Brazil and Richard Krawiec from the U.S.A. around the world to help educate Mathias, Poet Bill Drake, and the Poets of Africa on publishing, small presses and creating an Anthology of Great Poets from Africa.

Mathias was gazing at it all, and replies, “Let the story somehow relate to the naked bushman of Kalahari. A writer and more importantly the publisher must have an eye on the audience… That’s why I insist that to hit, we must forego the claim attempt to stick to history… We should try to go for very many layers of meanings. Mere train history is a private fancy, an average reader isn’t interested.

Andy laughed and said, “Red lets go back to America and get the RxR’s to do this, lets quit right now, our braiding online has been private fancy, but our Youtube Channel says different. God Bess Mathias get off the cell phone and get a laptop and e-shovel and dig with us!”

Mathias replied, “l don’t regard myself as even very good but I don’t believe in babysitting lazy poets.”

Andy laughs and says, “You are great Mathias. I love this guy Red, he has what it takes. Boet find Mathias a laptop asap when we get stationed please. Mathias Les Claypool of the band Primus and Tom Araya of the band Slayer one time when I seen them in concert looked me in the eye through a whole song before, so yes that is correct, select the/an audience and look them in the eyes, they’ll never forget it and appreciate it.” Andy thought about his and Red’s Last Song, we are precious he thought, we all are! “Mathias true Poets can’t leave the Poetry to long, they’ll return.”

Boet jumped in an the conversation, “They are like Africas’ weaver Birds, and they confuse the Cobra snakes.”

Andy laughs and says, “Brilliant, Boet is catching on. Alright Boet, give me a high 5!”

Slap, their hands meet with wisdom and understanding.

Red smiled and spoke, Andy we are about to be taken to a whole new level. Each generation inherits Andy.

Andy smiles and says, “Keeping me on track are ye?” and laughs.

Boet pulled up a video song on his laptop called ”Rock the Horse Song” by the Bushmen of the Kalahari Desert, and it was grand.

They are in some ways, a lot like the Inuit of Canada, said Red, They have managed to live off this harsh environment for hundreds and thousands of years, and yet, they seem so friendly.

“The Bushmen own time,” said Boet “Unlike the west, the Bushmen do not believe in rushing.

“Ya Ya Mathias,” said Andy laughing “You hear that.” Andy had a notion, and remembered he needed to contact all Poets in the Facebook Poetry Africa Group for their locations, and websites and channels on the internet for up and coming sharing, promoting and learning.

“To answer your question,” Boet replied, “I come from Sierra Leone, and I wanted a life of tons of iron and steel. To chug my way into the history books, but while living a lifelong dream of riding the rails other things came about. I did not follow my bliss to be the first of black train engineers in Africa. I guess it was more of a fascination for me, but life did get in the way. I have always struggled to make an income. I would have even loved to be just a fireman, to run back and get the wood, throw it in the fire. I ‘am my own rough beast in my life. Well, I believe we need teachers that care about the students and challenge them to go past the standards and shoot for the stars! In any subject and career the student is interested in. I never had that.”

Andy looked at Red, and asks, “Hmm who does nowadays? Colleges are just a money racket now. Curious, does Egypt still have free college education?”

“Yes,” Boet replied, “But it’s what is fueling these revolutions. There is no work for these educated people. It’s all backwards.”

Red spoke, Innovation, volunteering, the key point is that formal education doesn’t necessarily lead to knowledge and skills the individual can use productively. Examine the beauty advantage and its impact on office politics as why Andy mentioned earlier, and why we and members of PoetryTrain.com talked about Poets need to get their act together. Operation Jester was one of our plays from our playbook, and still is once funded.

Andy spoke, “As the old saying goes, it’s not what you know but who you know, so branching out and thinking solutions for others is probably the best way to swing from branch to branch as the saying goes, I am hanging in there, and they say, that’s all you can do. Now, getting off of ones ass and innovating is. Again Fear the mass murderer. Ha Danger! So if you want a good Poet you have to do it yourself.” Andy laughs his ass off and saying, “Just joking, we need a pool of money for the literary arts to scramble for.” Andy laughs again and says, “Oh we can’t, we can’t because gambling is legal. Everyone is a genius at what they have the biggest interest in. On what they love doing. Modern education simply doesn’t let people like us express it. And if they do, we are very limited on it. If all they glorify is taking tests, all up and coming generations will be very limited in creativity and innovations.”

In others words Andy is saying we are all in Danger, of Dread and Doom coming back from the grave and kicking some serious ass if we all don’t figure something out, Red stated firmly. Evolve & resolve to solve! Or play the same ol song It’s a hit, “History Repeats Itself Ping Pong”

“We need free access to tools,” Andy replies, “Like RVs, movie making equipment, high tech software, and anything like that, the average person can’t afford to use to get something done. Heck most things are junk anyway. And for the record, Poetry Promoting is our career choice, not a bad option. Good wisdom, see through all the worlds bullshit,” And Andy laughs his ass off again.

Someone in the lounge played the song ‘It’s Alright’ by the Traveling Wilburys’ on the Jukebox, and everyone sung a long.

Boet smiled and said, “Well, this job is close enough,” and laughs.

The bartender who looks like Wizzo, asked us if we read ‘New News Out of Africa’ by Charlayne Hunter -Gault. And we replied with a ‘No’, and he hands the book to Red, and said, “Keep it” you’ll love it. Thanks, Red smiled and replied, Ya we’re traveling clowns from Canada, trying to make our way. Appreciated & charm’d. Ah writing is performance art Red thought and laughed inside. Not literally, but really, silently really, soothing Red felt.

The bartender smiled and asked, “What are you working on?”

We are working on a new act, Red replied, Something new for the circus of the un-flated paranoia paranormal mind raid, for illumination of course. We have the attention span of two and half centuries, and we have done it, we’ve removed the fuzz to give the world a literary buzz. The thing is we have thrown away all of our costumes, so we are naked sort of speak. From what we hear and see, our new threads should be of protest.

Boet was catching on, and catching a buzz, and laughed at what Red said. Boet then spoke, “This is the life, poetry and trains. Why the hell should we spend our life breaking our back for a company that only looks at you as an expendable slave? I somewhat get it, Poets are like the Bush People. Sure, we have a lot of gadgets, but millions of people suffer from stress, anxiety, depression, and a feeling of emptiness. These concepts are unknown to the people that live like the Bushmen tribe. Look at the countless millions that have been slaughtered in wars and conflict in the ever-increasing quest for more resources to make a few people very rich. Our so-called modern advanced society is neither sustainable nor ethical. I have a lot of catching up to do, but I get it somewhat from your personalities and things you been saying. The evil circle has begun. We already have been given everything we need to live a rich and healthy life, but when someone becomes a food producer, they will try to protect their land, and when they grow financially stronger, they will use their un-proportionate power to expand at the expense of others. Like the Bushmen and Poets, we all humans should live 100% off the land in harmony with nature. All went down-hill since the advent of agriculture.”

Andy laughed and said, “Welcome to the brain grain train.” Andy then made some click sounds. “tsk tsk tsk mop mop, I wonder if I said, Poetry Dada or Poetry Mama? Me, just a toddler in the great clickable sandbox” Andy laughed. “There’s something deep within our brains that are at work when it comes to language! Like Poems, Clicks change lives, Poems change lives. They’ve changed mine and the lives of many people and Poets I admire. If you are happy and you know it, clack your tongue! Take a click moment! Ha Ha hA hA nock nock! Angelic baby, oh dissolving time! Beauty, beauty, beauty. Hey lets all go to the observation car in the back, and click chat to the adapt app. Dream like, alright, to be surprised by the comforting visions of the future phenomenon.” Andy knew they were looking into the windows of the past too.

Red laughs and says, Andy right now reminds me of Nicolas Kostyleff.

Boet replies, “Never heard of him. Andy reminds me of Flinders Petrie,” and asked them if they ever heard of Mr. Petrie, and they replied ‘No’ in synch, and as they walked to the back of the train Boet continued to talk, “Flinders went to Egypt in 1880 to survey the Great Pyramid. For the next five decades he was at the forefront of the development of archaeology in the country.”

Andy and Red browsed the books sitting on tables as the Blue Trains’ Tour Guide came into the observation car, and introduced himself, Israel Moss.
Thank you for the warmth and service, Red replies, Life time memories being born. The staff has been most generous.

“Time stands still” Andy replies, “We are privileged, thank you. Luxurious Train, we are blessed.”

Israel Moss smiles, “Gentlemen I have a book for you to enjoy. It is yours to keep. Antjie Krog and the Post-Apartheid Public Sphere: Speaking Poetry to Power by Anthea Garman. For many white people, her message was too strong, too uncompromising, and far too challenging.”

Red and Andy smiled and looked at Mathias. Andy smiles wider because he knows Mathias is about to time stamp time with his poetry.

“We are learning how to listen here Israel Moss,” Red replied.

Andy right away found an online speech by Antjie Krog, entitled, An Inappropriate Text for an Appropriate Evening – Read Antjie Krog’s Keynote Address from the 2015 Sunday Times Literary Awards. Andy looked at the book Red was holding and the one ‘New News Out of Africa’ received earlier the bartender gave Red, next to the poetry trains fire box laptop, and smiled. Andy then looked at Israel Moss, and smiled and said, “Thanks, we have a lot to learn.” Andy looked out the window, and thought about his passions across the sea, they were still burning inside of him and there.

Boet was sitting comfortably in a chair and read the poem ‘The Great Day’
by William Butler Yeats from his phone.

Hurrah for revolution and more cannon-shot!
A beggar upon horseback lashes a beggar on foot.
Hurrah for revolution and cannon come again!
The beggars have changed places, but the lash goes on.

Boet too was reading this online article, and they both let these words sink in, The irony, as Neville Alexander noted: Is that those born free from racial classification are now forced by government practice to classify themselves when filling in forms as white, coloured, black or Indian. The whole paragraph was strong, and they read on as Red talked to Mr. Moss.

Personally Antjie Kong wants an image, the image of a sweeping paradigm shift able radically to change, showing whites in an equally radical act of outreach. And after all that has taken places, this is still empty! Andy glanced up at Red and said, “You have got to study this, well I do, we do.” As Andy read on, and read this out-loud so all in the observation car heard him and these words, “Relations of comradeship, of solidarity, of love, relations which prefigure the sort of society we struggle for.” & Out-loud “We need to have all the conversations, deferred from 1994, with as much courageous imagination, new vocabulary and wild dreams as possible.”

Israel Moss smiled and said, “I know that, read it before. ‘I respect anger. Anger is often where important change begins.’ Gentlemen enjoy your time aboard the Blue Train.”

Andy was off in Poetry Land, thinking about the poem by Yeats, and thought, yes, the message Yeats was sending about revolutions? Mystical or Symbolical, “The damn answer is in Physical, we all need to hit the brakes at the same time. Damn it,” Andy again spoke Out-load, “At the same time, hit the brakes. I have told this to many. Why did I name my Turtle Tesla.” And everyone started laughing.

“Red most Poetry Youtube Channels are equal in fan base,” Andy added.

Red smiled from ear to ear, and said, Andy play a poem from Antjie Kong.

“10/4” Andy replied, “Antjie Krog reads from “Begging to Be Black” – two letters to her mother” coming up!” The poem was heard all through the observation car of “The Blue Train.” “Whoo, we on it Mathias, we on it,” Andy pronounced. The grappling with the relationship between past, present and future. The difficulties South Africans face in grappling with the legacies of colonialism and Apartheid, and the fact that there is a process of un-homing and re-homing. An Inappropriate Text for an Appropriate Morning. Where’s Run D.M.C. ‘That is’” Andy thought, the way it shall, not should be.”

And everyone sung “It’s Like That” by Run D.M.C in the observation car!

Andy started laughing and said, “Pillage the Privileges, Un-Savage the Savages, Salvage, alvage all age. Hey- Poezji Walki, I wasn’t born a Poetry fan but I ‘am what a Time Conquer be, a Poet, lover, ha ha. You too Red, ha ha.” Andy also thinks and was pulled to and the song came, as his spirit in Africa knew the sun was going to be faster here going down then where he and Red started all of this, because place was place, and acing was ace itself. And the song was ‘Lonely is the Night’ by Billy Squier.

Snap out of Andy, said Red, You have Poetry Man. Red laughed, because of the word play, Salvage, and thought ya our duty was lonely with all we knowz.

Andy then talked to a passenger about How to tell Time with a pen or pencil, with the sun or moon, and shadows and light, even on a moving train. The Mind Compass. Andy let the documentary ‘Free At Last’ play on the Poetry Trains Firebox, as Red mingled. And They thunk.

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla introduced himself.

Andy was happy, he became a time monitor on the Blue Train, with his wisdom of time and poetry ishings good duende, he excused himself, and went to the facility and puked, because of not stress of what he knows. As he ralphed he thought, why are poets their own worst enemy unlike mankind? Salvage savage age- And as he rinsed & wiped his face, he looked into the mirror, life is not a flash before his eyes, life lives flashed before them and he, and finding the pole of love, the time straw he and Red knew, he thought how far can one be from it, chain-less or free. Ya rainbows were earthly, so how can all look into these eyes without poetry?

Red looked at Walklemon Whipagla as he mingled, and Boet knew what to do.

Boet found Andy, and Andy snapped his fingers, and gathered himself. He looked at Boet, and sung, “Ya give it all away, and Everyone wants you. Ew… Hey I just wrote a poem for Mathias, where’s Mathias?”

Boet laughed as they returned to the observation car, and Andy sung, “I’ll stick around, Poetry my kind a lover. I want to make you feel the way I do.. So how’s it happening Poetry Train Africa? I’ll stick around, and close my eyes and ears to beat the time!”

Red heard that, and thought we roll at our own pace, ya can’t force feed poetry. Death a life concept lucidity silence screaming. Red then spoke, It’s the grass yall, Andy is okay Ladies and Gentlemen, and he laughed and quoted C.W. Fields, “Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.” He’s a little fuzzy wuzzy. Been run hard keeps a ling.
And everyone started laughing.

Red smiled and said, He reads, and has this thing about beating time. Edie Brickell & New Bohemians wrote a song about it called ‘Beat the Time’ so here and there he does thaz, or so he thinks. And everyone started laughing again.

Andy replied “Don’t count on it. Some can’t stand slopes, steep is the mountain which we climb, and smiling does no good to the soulless.” Andy walked to his roomette and thought of the song ‘Small Hours.” by Metallica and to think & rest because there are many poetic poets to read and hear.”

Andy sat in his roomette listening to Antjie Krogs’ wisdom, and reading and listening to her poetry, and the collective we, with the power of forgiveness, and time, time allowed to educate, and furthermore the knowing for all races that there is a we, as in the word weaved. Andy then thought about birds and animals, and must look at all of them while he was here in Africa because they were spiritual messengers, in life and dreams, keepers of sacred spiritual significance, plus long ago as a child he wanted to be a zoologist. Andy made notes to return to Antjie Krogs’ wisdom, and he looked out the window to be amazed by Africas’ beauty. “Maybe I ‘am home here, but how can I say that, my spirit feels like it is,” Andy spoke to himself, “I know these people won’t like me saying that, because of what white people have done, and issues they have now with foreigners.”

Red, Boet, and Mathias were talking about translating poetry, and a Poetry Train Africa Anthology. Mr. Walklemon Whipagla was listening and Red observed this. He seemed to be a hunter. They then talked about the poetry of Rudyard Kipling.

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla interrupted them and asked, “So what do you know of the Boer War poetry? Or the Poet, Kingsley Fairbridge?”

Red replied, Not much as of yet.

“Let me recite the poem, ‘The Hunting of Shumba’ by Kingsley Fairbridge,” said Mr. Whipagla.
My father, Sr. Yes I ‘am a Junior, was a child of Fairbridges’ Furtherance of Child Emigration to the Colonies. My father was an impoverished child who lived in the London slums. Fairbridge brought him to Johannesburg to be trained to be a farmer, and as Fairbridge dreamed, my father shed the bondage of bitter circumstances, and stretched his legs and mind.

Red noted this and smiled. Red also sensed peril, peril inside of him, and Mr. Whipagla, spoke, “I know two more poems. Let me recite them.”

The Rail Head
by Kingsley Fairbridge

Where go the broken songs? Where go the lives
That flash’d, and pass’d? Where goes the man we love,
If he should die? Where goes the valiant life
That labour’d and was buried and forgot?
— Where go the very days that even now
We grasp and love … they sink, they fade away, —
And we remain, and wonder, and are dumb.

White heat, the glare of sand, the shouts of men; —
Here at the rail-head are the incomers
Fresh from the sea; and here the inland men
With wagons, carriers, or their naked selves
Hasten ahead machinery and food.
Here at Chimoio is the terminus —
Here waits the rail and peers towards the West,
Nervous, unknowing … And they speak of war:
Up on the high veld there is Death abroad …
Death! The bridge-builders laugh — the linesmen smile —
The stricken, yellow faces turn away,
The hungry, blood-shot eyes seek out the hills —
Dim on the sky-line — where a man may die
Other than by malaria and drink.

&c &c

Red looked at Boet and Mathias, and raised his eyebrow. Red was feeling why just about everything was labeled dark here.

Mr. Whipagla took a drink of his martini, and recited the poem,

His Road
by Kingsley Fairbridge

Behold, my son, the wheel-scarr’d road!
Be shamed, and be afraid,
For we, the first, were greater men
Than those for whom we made.
We wrought in death and hunger,
We fought the veld — we few!
Behold, this effort of our hands,
This road we built for you….

&c &c

We link’d the Known and Unknown, —
The Known that did not care! —
Cared not, we knew, but labour’d on
For spoils we should not bear.
We sow’d, ye reap. We had our cake,
We cannot eat it, too;
Yet, in the image of our hearts,
We carved this road for you.

&c &c

This useless thing of sand and grass!
Unsightly bridge and frail! —
Dead stumps and riven stones speak not
To those who use the Rail.
But, son, no single mile we made
Without long toil — we few!
Remember then those dauntless hands
That built this road for you!

Mr. Whipagla finished his drink, laughed and said, “Well gentlemen, welcome to Africa. I get off the train at Johannesburg. The poem ‘South African Exhibition, 1907’ is a grand one too, but I can not recall it. I ‘am going to return to my seat, Totsiens.” And Mr. Whipagla walked away.

Andy got to thinking about what he told his mother before. I like all people, like I do all birds. It’s confusing though. Do birds like other birds? You don’t see a half bluejay and half cardinal flying around. Andy thought about physical attraction toward females of other races, and he did and still does have feelings like this. He also remembers what elders said too, one should stick to their kind, and was put to him he thought kindly, nothing derogatory. Ya but what if you are mutt like, Wapello and Irish, and Andy laughed, and continued to read.

Red, spoke some wisdom, speaking on writing and truth of Rudyard Kipling, mimicking his voice and body language, ‘We who use words enjoy a peculiar advantage over our fellows. We cannot tell a lie. However much we may wish to do so, we only of educated men and women cannot tell a lie—in our working hours. The more subtly we attempt it, the more certainly do we betray some aspect of truth concerning the life of our age. It is with us as with timber. Every knot and shake in a board reveals some disease or injury that overtook the log when it was growing. A gentleman named Jean Pigeon, who once built a frame house for me, put this in a nutshell. He said: `Everything which a tree she has experienced in the forest she takes with her into the house.’ That is the law for us all, each in his or her own land.’

Red then took drink of his white wine, and said, A certain optimism scares me, like Kipling, me and surely Andy feels this way. Lets say, a reverse analogy, prejudice as a knot in timber, but this forest is from inside the home, an over taking, a teaching with fear tactics upon ones growth.

“A Puff-Adder,” Boet replied, “A deadly serpent, like a ringhal, a venomous spitting cobra.”

You could say that Boet, Red replied, Dominion over palm and pine, but this power is transient. So yes, we can not tell a lie. A lie like prejudice, spreads like fire. Burning all the forest.

Andy comes back and hears this and says, “Yes and the birds, like our spirits will never have their, or our kingdom. The physical world is not a blind forest anymore. Life is a soul struggle anyways, so why add to it. We are now the world of Kiplings’ tomorrow, so what reasons of art and emotions would we tell him today? Would he or any other literary giant have mercy on us? Do you have mercy on them? Or each other? How can we be an effective echo? An effective echo through the forest or home wetting the fire of prejudice so there is witness to the water of love. We are Kipling’s new modern wonders, all dominant strains of blood draw. He had sympathy for us. Grasp love, because it is ours, not just yours, or mine, ours. Let love break in upon you, in fact love does not have to break in, because love is itself, the key, so if love wants to, love will get in, but it’s better to let love in by ones own free will. Heart, we all have one, best to share it, don’t ya think. Like songs of the birds all through the forest.”

Everyone was contemplating all that was said.

“Rudyard Kipling always have appealed to me,” said Andy “I still have a collection of his works from my teenage years. His ‘Just So Stories’ impressed me. That’s why I ‘am really excited about this journey.”

Red spoke, In the Days when everyone started fair.

Andy looked at everyone, and thought, this conversation is sitting on everyones head. Were they changing their hearts? Andy thought. In most cases diffusion simply creates uniformity, but multiple chaotic matters gives rise to non-uniformity. Love reaction is Hate diffusion. Auto-activate, and watch love inhibit

Red spoke, With no slothful breathes and heathen intentions, love shall; not if.

Andy asks, “So what are Burdens of Poets? The weight of power of Hubert H. Harrisons’ poem The Black Mans Burden. A Reply to Rudyard Kipling) in When Africa Awakes book is pretty heavy isn’t it?” and Andy laughs, and says, “Red maybe we should postpone for a while, and learn how to diffuse bones with nerves of steal.”

Red laughs and agrees saying, Stop the Train, Stop the Train!

“Stay calm Red, stay calm,” Andy proclaimed, “I believe we need to be in prior law enforcement. Oh ya we are, we are poetry police,” and Andy laughs.

Boet blurts out, “Keep writing poetry and no one explodes.”

There was a round of applause amongst the passengers in the observation car.

Red done a cake-walk dance the aka mock strut, and sung, “Jeopardy” by the Greg Kihn Band.

And others followed Red, and clapped.

Mathias was in poetry mode, as he said once, ‘The bitch of a muse wants him to just post everything she tells. Andy and Red kept everything in Mind and Heart, and they wondered if Women Poets looked at Poetry like this, and they laughed inside in synch mode.

“Mark Twain came this way Red,” said Andy “Influenced many here, as Edgar Allen Poe and his ‘The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym’ but not as much as of yet ha ha. Poe was a trickster we know a master, as explained in his “The Philosophy of Composition,” Poe explains that poetry and prose both must communicate a “truth” through a “unity of impression.” as Mark Twain knew too, people loved to be fooled. But it was their truth, of their place, their up bringing. They for sure knew unity.”

Red replied, I ‘am seeing, why weren’t we informed of Toni Morrison back when, oh ya I know others with the Me’Me disease. The truly interesting thing about it all is that they wrote in a time when the truth about race was not impossible to discuss or write about. So let me remind you on about the Facebook webmaster appreciation and tinkering lag. Poetry is not cultural engineering, like race, poetry is real!! You can see it in their eyes once you mention poetry.

Andy replied, “The U.S.A. would be stronger as we talked about with our black trucker friends on the net in Arkansas & Georgia shall we say truly come together, a beautiful bliss it would be, as a people not a nation, and when I think about this, I think about those who fought in Vietnam, together as one, and there is only one person I know that will tell us the truth on this, and that is Poet Dominic Albanese, so we need to chat with him soon.”
Boet spoke, “Nelson Mandela read the poem ‘Invictus’ by William Ernest Henley for uplifting while he was in prison. So I find it ironic and cool that respect finds ground through all in poetry regardless of time, history and race.”
Red smiled and said, Just like Poetry of War as Henry Newbolt claimed can be greeting as he said, ‘It’s a kind of Frankenstein’s Monster that I created thirty years ago.’ The intention of this kind of poetry was to stir the heart of the reader as in rivals on the battlefield.
Andy questioned, “Wonder if William Ernest Henley felt how hardcore his poem Song of the Sword is? I want to shout out, and write out and say, Humbug by Jingoism.”
Boet spoke up, “Wow, poetry is some powerful stuff. Ha ha more then I realized. What’s next? Ha ha. What’s admiring to me is, Poets, Literary Writers, who never give up at what they love, being a commodity or not. Living the dream of sorts. Fascinating is what it is. Carry on gentlemen, Boet Duve ‘Luve Fritz at your service.”
Red and Andy looked at Boet, then Mathias, and then at each other and smiled. Poets & Humans, male, female, gray, green, &c &c.

“A train used to go to Rhodesia to see the Zimbabwe Ruins,” said Boet, “Now, you go to Zimbabwe to see the Rhodesia Ruins. We will be there soon.”

“We have one Red,” said Andy, “ ha ha, a adventurer and a dreamer of dreams Poet, Roy ‘Zulu’ Blades’ Cambell. He loves ancient towns Boet. Taylor says, The role of the poet is not to join their Peter Pan games but to look beneath such frolics for the source of spiritual renewal. We need to get Borsalino hats like him Red,” and Andy laughs. “Mathias, do all in all, this is a Wayzgoose, ha ha, loving it.”

Roy spoke Zulu too, Red thought.

‘I ‘am reading too,” says Boet, “I love this, ‘Truth is a coy mistress who lets no mortal posses her utterly. Yet the poet is more favored by her than are the dull, prosy souls who cofound petty detail with wisdom.’ by Russel Kirk about Roy Cambell in, The Sword of Imagination: Memoirs of a Half-Century of Literary Conflict. “So Mathias you have been chosen,” said Boet laughs. “And this one, ‘At certain strange epochs,’ says Innocent Smith in Chesterton’s Manalive, “it is necessary to have another kind of priests, called poets, actually to remind men that they are not dead yet. Powerful statement.”

Mathias was listening but also reading the news, about today’s Africa trade and investment treaties.

Andy laughs and asks, “Are we Red desperate to achieve literary credibility and reputation, without quite understanding what these things are,” Andy was laughing more. “Oh it is killing us to tell a joke against us, ha ha.”

Red replies,Yes I see, and he’s like you a horse lover. This is why critical thinking comes into play, like being a street football quarterback and the ground is not your friend. and the blessings of poet/editor friends and the post office and telephone people rock n roll, furthermore the library of congress.
Besides racsim, poets face class issues (and race and gender), the have, the privileged and the have nots, the un-privileged. The you you, the me me, and the yo yo, excuse me, but them and these days have to go go. Guess you have to have the groove and all the time in the world too. The Poet Condition and Society at large. That’s why I like true Heavy Metal front-men, they get it, place, the spirit of the genre. Old school promoting you give what you get.

“Unpaid internships in the publishing industry, no really, oh wow, where’s Mr. Welchberry? Ha ha, and his mastery of the truly blind submission process . Ah ha ha.” says Andy. “I can see for miles. Maybe we should have had a séance in Canada too, ha ha. Are we librarians ii the new future Red? And yes, the price of admission is having the groove, that is funky funky all through time, as in when you hear it you just know it. Poet you can’t back down, you must crack down. Poetry makes me Voorslag, a word to serve as a Whiplash, ha ha, Poets back then faced the same as today and Andy did a beat box, and sung the song ‘I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)’ by Daryl Hall & John Oates.

The Blue Train sure is making some dust, said Red.

“As true love, anti-racism is the pain of forgiveness without apology, so that is unconditional, and the condition is man-made $hit… Teeth are for eating, and eating $hit maybe for a while, but eventually they have to go, health, hellth, don’t get any of that $hit on ya, and carry on with yourself. Me knows what pliers are for, to unite in blood,” said Andy.

The Blue Train sure is making some dust, said Red.

“As true love, anti-racism is the pain of forgiveness without apology, so that is unconditional, and the condition is man-made $hit… Teeth are for eating, and eating $hit maybe for a while, but eventually they have to go, health, hellth, don’t get any of that $hit on ya, and carry on with yourself. Me knows what pliers are for, to unite in blood,” said Andy.

Andy looks at this book online. Turbott Wolfe by the Poet William Charles Franklyn Plomer and it says the book remains a powerful chronicle of the intimate human consequences of racism., and he claimed that the novels distinction lay in its realization that racial relationships were not merely political or economic, but emotional. This was a novel ahead of its time based on a non racial world. Love, Andy thought about love and consequences, furthermore the wisdom of knowing to disregard opinions, because what if it was love and not of lust. He then thought about blood transfusions, probably a tip of an iceberg. He then thought about complete heartbreak, seemingly into which no one really cares about and yes loneliness, and of course the beauty of children, and that’s where consequences come through the door he thought, the childs’ future dilemmas, but the world has changed from the 20th Century, or not, he questioned? Family, when a woman loves you, it is ‘family’ to her, Andy thought, furthermore parenting love, love for self, the child/children, and others. As Plomer asks Divine humanity, or human divinity? Andy then thought about jealousy, some of any color, some people regardless envied peoples happy relationships, and some try to break the bond by all means possible. Andy then thought of the message of the great Poet Jesus and that was to love everyone, and surely this brought along the thoughts of the violations of the 10 commandments. Murder comes to mind, and one being finely pure of the heart, furthermore how would anyone truly know ones heart without memory film sort of speak. One would have to know one for ones entire life, he guessed you can say to judge, or righteously judge. Was it all in the eyes as Andy was taught as a child? Yes as a child, how would I feel if a child of mine loved someone of another race, and the answer was easy. If the person loved my child truly, that was all that was needed to accept, a positive tolerance one could say. So is the only hope for the peaceful co-existence of mankind, was that each of us must accept and respect the other persons truth? To not be condemned. Andy then thought about the fire of Scorn that destroys things, and the water of Love, that endures all things. Rich, poor, surrounding bleak or not, personal angels or demons. Strength and weakness, ugliness and beauty. Where is the love culture? World wide Hospitality? Where does life unfold for true love? As the Poet Bill Drake pointed out, gander, the jails are open twenty for seven, and churches are not. And thought, Poets should ask, ask the world What’s wrong with us, why don’t the world want to read us? As of color were Poets invisible?

Red looked at Andy to change the subject, because Red knew things in America were going to surface to Andys’ Heart. The Poet Herman Charles Bosman was right when he said South Africa has an authentic stamp. A heavy atmosphere, strange and dark.

Boet laughed and said, “I hope you both can run fast, and through the thorn bob trees. Leopards are fast you know.”

Red laughed and replied as the Poet Lionel Abrahams says, We must endure The extreme moments of history often defeat poetry. But if poetry endures, it has to go where journalism and historiography do not have to go, into the core of the individual experience, where the politics, the economics, the conflict and disruption are not just thought but undergone and felt.

“I like the umbrella trees here.” Andy replied.

“We have Queen trees,” said Boet, “They are the sycamore fig.”

I like the Boabob trees, said Red.

“They have a Baobab pub in Modjadjiskloof,” said Boet, “Yes they made a pub out of tree.”

Andy raised his eyebrows and thought of the Muse of Poetry. Poets as her babies, maybe, and racing against time, it is after all, it is not the Historian, but the Poet who deals in the eternal verities.

They noticed giraffes in the distant landscape, and as they all now had their heads in the trees, thinking about living with people.

Lionel Abrahams’ poem ‘Chaos Theory of the Heart’ is intense, Red added.

“Hey do you think people who come upon a Poet realize they are a Poet?” Andy asked, and added, “They are elusive, Leopard like too, like the Mountain Lion. I say this because Poetry does migrate.”

“A Leopard would not want to be seen,” Boet replied.

The Poet Lionel Abrahams does write that poetry does change things. His poem ‘A Dead Tree Full of Live Birds’ is humbling, because I was just thinking as I get older, what if I can’t move my limbs anymore or speak, and mostly will my mind and memory work, so as I read here from a Tony McGregors’ article on Lionel Abrahams from an article back in 1995 by Poet Francis Faller, and Red laughs, A Poet Wisdom Relay, ha ha, ‘For Abrahams, ripening is a function of the memory. And here lies one paradox: memory is both blessing and curse. The poet would be blessed if future generations were to recollect, not his ‘self’, but the humanistic, enlightened principles for which he and his forebears strove. Red adds, a she here needs to be added. She or- He has no hunger for ‘nes’ and novelty; ‘there is enough already greatly given, / waiting to be unforgotten.’ so here is my thoughts,” Red adds, “Deeds, deeds of ones life time, can / will they keep on enlightening or haunt, furthermore regrets. So our modern term, ‘Keep it Real means a lot correct?” Red asks.

“Well, look at what we have done Andy,” Andy replies, “Lionel Abrahams’ poem, ‘A Dead Tree Full of Live Birds’ is like a book somewhat, and by our hunches, instinct we knew this. Move the train, Lets see the world full of live poets and past poets, full of life and wisdom, so yes Red, love your Poet Wisdom Relay happening. Here in Azania, radicals call South Africa.”

“I shall return,” says Boet, “I ‘am going to get us some, Herman Charles Bosmans’ Willem Prinsloo’s Peach Brandy,” and Boet laughs.

Mathias followed Boet, and Mathias has been busy with Poets of Africa online, letting them know the Poetry E Train is coming.

“Red Lionel Abrahams poem,’ A Dead Tree Full of Live Birds’ & Africa’s Queen of Trees the fig has similarities,” said Andy, “The Poets that feel writing poetry is a curse is amazing to me, while others feel it is a blessing. As we interview poets, we get a better understanding of their spirit. The last stanza of the poem is about respect, to read, and to be read, before life & time runs out.”

Red was in contemplating mode and spoke, We need to start writing to the Poets of Africa.

“Yes, okay,” Andy replied and laughed, “Contemplating is like being a Giraffe, with our heads way up in thoughts of poetry, and Giraffes like to be in groups.”

As they rolled on up and down the Railroad they notice water tables near villages in the way beyond.

Mathias and Boet returned with drinks and Boet said, “I was just thinking, and there are many poems engraved on tombstones here in South Africa, most weathered away.”

Mathias looked at them and said, “It’s almost time curate this anthology and we are near Kimberly, then onto Johannesburg, Pretoria, Port Elizabeth, East London, and Durban, plus many small stations along the way.”

“Everyone, I have to warn you, the Electric Owl has picked up on some serious poems here. The Poets of the 21st Century, Koleka Putuma, Puno Selesho, Julie Wang’ombe, Genna Gardini, and Makhafula Vilakazi. And we have not even surfaced Poetry Train Africas’ untagged/unknown yet, that Mathias has found. You know us Red we don’t show favoritism but this Mutombo Poet, ha his Poet boots on. His poem ‘Poetry Saved My Life” ha, is, the new is- lightning. They all are… Mathias was correct we have not even heard a word of the poetry here. The Electric Owl picked up on Poet Tarryn Doherty way back in Canada.”

And they all smiled.

“By the way Red great music selection,” Andy replied. After a few minutes of riding and contemplating Andy spoke, “I wish we knew the language of Angels so we could do better, because we too define this better: clean slate – an opportunity to start over without prejudice, and from the writer Olaudah Equiano, to create better ways to get as we have said as across too, ‘Every rational mind answers, No. Let such reflections as these melt the pride of their superiority into sympathy for the wants and miseries of their sable brethren, and compel them to acknowledge, that understanding is not confined to feature or colour. If, when they look round the world, they feel exultation, let it be tempered with benevolence to others, and gratitude to God, “who hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth; and whose wisdom is not our wisdom, neither are our ways his ways.’ I wish we could meet the one and only Vincent Bridges. Must be a photo finish via poem or something because, wagons have no drag-ons.”

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla returned to the observation car, and Andy looked at Red, and they got that, why, and they both tele- thought this dude must be a Anti-British archaeological scholar, or a want to be one, with all the answers. Andy laughed inside thinking about his Grandfather, and he once told Andy people like this take control the whole world will fall apart. A Anti-British archaeological scholar was just satire for a slimy snake up in our business, because they can’t be them self. Ah Andy thought, and spoke out load, “8 fingers down and 2 thumbs.”

Andy I just posted a photo of Victor Maitland the bad guy from Beverly Hills Cop film on poetry trains wall and said with a quote from the film of course, What If the 1% of the 1% was a Poet? Victor was not named this for nothing!- ‘Really? That would be neat trick.’

“Did anyone click the like or a comment?” Andy asked

Nope, Red replied.

“You did that to see how deep the sleeping was.” Andy proclaimed.

Yep, Red replied.

“Let me comment a Slayer song, ‘Read Between the Lies’, not because of faiths, ha ha, because of the Art of Listening,” said Andy and laughed.

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla gave Andy a dirty look, and Andy gave Mr. Walklemon Whipagla a I can see right through you look.

Boet looked at them and said, “You two are strong, like a left and right hook.”

Red laughed and said, We are ambidextrous. We have learned a lot from candy asses. We are Super Poetry and Railroad Promoters, with a sparkle of a penny and we like to keep it that way. You see Boet in the long run the Wicked Papoose Caboose is coming.

Andy laughed and said, “No word from U.S.A. Or Brazil.”

Imagine that, Red replied.

“Imagine that,” Andy replied, “They are busy with American Politics, even Axel F told us America is screwed.”

Red spoke, Oh the braking system, oh when will it be fully applied? No need to post about that, been there done that.

Mathias spoke, “Red and Andy are great Protest Poets too.”

Poet Harry Owen says ‘Politics only exists because of people. Political poetry is essentially poetry about people.’ Red added.

“Red we tried this in Ontario,” said Andy.

I know, Red replied.

“Book & Author Promoter Sara Knight and Amazon.com is awake,” and Andy laughs, “Maybe ‘She talks to Angels like Vincent Bridges.’

And Boet played ‘She Talks To Angels.” on his laptop.

Red winked at Andy’ That Wicked Papoose Caboose wink. Andy went into online conversations with Poet Dana-zoe about poetrytrain.com and WordSlingers ‘My Human Leakage Test’ Book as the train rolled on. Andy winked back and tele-thought you have to love real Poet friends, like Olan L. Smith and so many others.

Boet asked “Here in Africa there are Animal Poachers, I wonder if there are Poet Poachers too?”

Andy laughed and replied, I’ am sure there is, web spinning, under ones skin peeling some thing like that.”

Red looked at Mr. Walklemon Whipagla and smiled.

Andy scanned the online feed, and said, “The Poet Fannon Holland is wide awake, and he sees the political ‘BS’. Red, the Poet Keorapetse Kgositsile has a serious point that was never heard of, or raised up on these journeys, and that is the Poetry Audience aka fans of Poetry aka readers have to make an effort too. You have to love that.”

Yes, as I read Keorapetse says, All cultural explorers start off from specific roots which color their vision and define the allegiances of the work of art they produce, Red explained. What a great way to look at it all. Reminds me of my first baseball game playing it after watching it on T.V. Then going to a real game. The Audience has their favorites.

“Yes,” Andy replied, “The innocence of a young one playing catch with oneself, fast pitch against a brick wall, or swatting the ball off of a tee into a net, just loving the game, and growing. As the growth Keorapetse says, and meeting a Poet, a Player of Poetry. Inspiring.”

Keorapetse Kgositsile has also seen the changes here in South Africa, Red added, And Keorapetse says, But any Time is with us. And if we take control to shape our attitude and reshape our memories, that time is always now, our time for the best possible uses of our lives. We have to love that.

“They call Poets Jesters here. Jive Jestor Red,” and Andy laughs.

Some reading took place and the Art of Listening.

The poem ‘The Fate of Revolutionary Poets’ by Allan Kolski Horwitz made Andy cry, because, the realm was seeping through. The Theater of Pain, the comedy then the tragedy. Andy looked out the window thinking and spoke, “Poetry saves lives for many reasons, Poetry saves Poets from committing murder, so Poetry must I repeat saves own life from suicide. So Poet shot, cut, bang bang, sling sling the words onto paper, to the hearing forest, wake the audience up to collaborate!!!”

Boet says, “I like what Allan Kolski Horwitz says, He’s an anarchist in socialist clothing! So we are burning the Poetry Train oil,” and Boet laughs, and says, “Yes, wow this reminds me of the Midnight Oil music video, ‘Blue Sky Mine.’ We are hauling future poetry oil, nice, this stuff rocks man. I get it. I ‘am glad I was called.”

Red looks at Andy and laughs happily.

Gentlemen, says Red, You have to love this, this wisdom coincides with Keorapetse Kgositsiles’ wisdom. Horwitz says, ‘With the brutality and stupidity of this system pushed me towards radicalism. No one creates him/herself alone. The family constellation, the culture, the language and above all, the class, into which we are born, shapes who we become. My acceptance of historical materialism as a key tool for understanding human societies and the individuals they produce was a seminal point in my intellectual and psychological evolution.’ Again, says Red, ‘The Poet relay. Red laughs and says, His perspective about Poetry is wide and wise, he wants young Poets to search for their highly original potential, and the youth should not swallow other culture as blindly.

“Sweet, ya ya,” says Andy and looks at Mr. Walklemon Whipagla and his pants. Andy then looks at Red and says, “Botsotso’, meaning tight trousers. 19th Centurians in Canada wore tight clothes. Red looked at Andy then at Walklemon and he was wearing bell bottoms. And something again was happening.

Andy smiles and carried on with the documentary, and says, “Allan Kolski Horwitz came up with a great idea, and Andy thought of someone at back home, who thinks of ideas but not this one, oh the arena, ya ya. Horwitzs’ idea for a poetry zine in a newspaper insert, brilliant, must be one of those things, of who you know,” and Andy laughs.

Mathias was in poetry mode silent and ever so mind listening. Thinking and encouraging Red and Andy for ‘Protest Poetry’ as the Poet Donald Parenzee proclaims, to encourage lateral thinking. Because during times of war and conflict, Poetry allows others who might not be in the centre of the issue to see what has really occurred. And ‘We All’ are in a massive World Widw psychological war!!!

And Poets were as the Poet Mambo Ntema says ONEBLOOD. Poetry to awaken. Poetry to the public sphere, to the public sphere, but not only that. The worlds Poets should litter the grave sites, the grave sites of the Great Poets that started the Poetry relay.

And everyone got quite and gave respect and thought, ya ya, Poet Mambo Ntemas’ ONEBLOOD!!!!!

All thought inspire the world before it’s too late, and Red started a playlist on Youtube.

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla looked Andy and said, “You have an attitude.’

Andy looks out the window and says, “Ya Ya, it’s a Poetude. Mr. Whipala. It comes from the dirt. Have you ever been laid out down on the dirt by Life alone, telling you, ‘Hey What are you going to do with your life?”

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla replies, “No, I can’t say I have.”

Andy smiles and says “It’s a inner drive, driving to write, that drove to read, that ride to read drove me to hear, that hearing, has got me listening, and that listening drove me to the gate, and that gate opened, that opening lead me to the Lady, the Lady of Poetry, the Realm of true Wisdom. In this world you excel or be expelled. The Lady is the Gifter, and the Gift is the Angelic Alphabet, translated as Poetry. And my Poetude will rub of on you so you are warn’d! It’s in the blood, and I found mine. And Mr. Whipagla, we have not traveled 100 miles in the 21st Century here in South Afric, and already the Lady has shown us, shall we say if you were listening, that; African poetry oral or written is also witness to these forces, to this interconnectedness of human, animal, plant, and inanimate environments and the cosmos. So I know not much about Imperialism but I feel some linear strike from you, and I have news for you, bands of bravos have already tried, and them arrows are well way back yonder on that dirt I mentioned.”

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla replies, “You two are not Circus Clowns.”

Andy laughs and replies, “Make a bet, most of the Bleach’d World thinks Poets are clowns, and that is what we are, and even better then that, We endorse it all. I bet you think I ‘am objectionable, undesirable, and obscene.”

Mr. Walklemon Whipagla looked down and bit his lip.

Andy looked at him and said, “We are here to uplift the Poets of Africa and Their Poetic Audience! Get us. Let me play a poem for you Mr. Whipagla, a poem by a Poet, down from Louisiana named Huggy Bear da Poet. Warn you here now, the poem is lethal.” Andy looks around at everyone, and plays the poem, ‘ A Time to Kill. And it’s a poem okay, okay.”

Andy looks at Mr. Walklemon Whipagla, and says, “You don’t have to agree, but metaphorically speaking this train is burning, this poetry train is burning hot, we have Poets loading the fire box, and we can engage like a rocket. And after this Poem I ‘am going to leave it all of this be, because this Poetude was given to me, and I lift with my gift!! This is what I do with my Life!”

Andy looked at Red, Mathias and Boet with confident assertion that poems, plays, stories, songs and paintings do matter in the real life of political confrontation. No sooner then that Andy jumped up and said, ‘What?” There were young men jumping on the train and climbing to the roof. Everyone got up, and looked at them as they hoped on the train. One passenger asked, “Are we being robbed?”

Boet explained, “No, they are Train Surfers, and this originated near here in Katlehong, one of the largest townships in South Africa and plays a key role in the history of the struggle against apartheid. After two decades ago, this place still serves as an epicenter for anti-apartheid’s guerrillas. Today, for many of these youths, the situation of segregation remains more or less unchanged. Train surfing represents the search for social redemption. These young men are Staffriders. Also there was a magazine in the 70’s & 80’s named Staffrider who had a nonracial policy and had two main objectives: to provide publishing opportunities for community-based organizations and young writers, graphic artists and photographers; and to oppose officially sanctioned state and establishment culture. I know this because of my babysitter when I was a boy, and now that I remember her favorite Poets were Francis Fuller and Eugene Skeef.”

Mathias laughed and spoke, “I told you, you were going to get some voices.”

Red laughed as the Train stopped to exchange more passengers.

Mathias laughed and said, “We get off here for a while, we are in Soweto.”

Andy got off the train, and watched the Train surfers climb down off the train, and one young man crawl out from underneath the train, and walked over to them and asked, “God Bless, how can you all play with death like that? On top of the train seems not as bad as holding on to one under the train and stuff, geez. I knew a boy when I was young who lost his legs trying to jump a train. Try reading and writing, creating exciting things so readers get addicted to reading you.”

The young men did not say anything as of yet to Andy.

One young man looked at Red and called him a coconut, and said, “He’s not a kaffir,” a white racial slur. They wore tie-dyed t-shirts with the word Kaffir printed on the front of the shirt as an attempt to heal the past and present, to make peace.

Boet spoke, “Can’t we simply stop calling people by their skin colour or how they look like? We are human beings after all not labels! Mandela taught us about forgiveness. Education is the key to getting ahead.”

One young man said, “Be wiser than the Serpent,” and looks at Andy.

“I know somewhat of how you feel. My name is Andy Sandihands, and I ‘am an American Poetry Promoter. What did you want to be when you were younger? I ‘am sure someone asked you before? What is your names?”

“My name is Lucky,” Luck replied, “and this is Dino, and Crisis.”

Mathias said, “We are going to my friends, and you Train Surfers are welcome to come.”

Lucky replied to one of Andy’s questions, “A fireman and thank you. We have a saying, Talk to us, not about us.”

“That’s a great line of work, regardless of what people say,” Andy replied.

They agreed and they walked along with them to the friends of Mathias.

Lucky said, “There are no jobs, no training, no way out of poverty, and most Africans understand that life is not made of entitlement but of hard work. Blaming others for own failures does not help. Africans must take responsibility of their destiny, unfortunately if you take as example the Afro-Americans the future is of pessimism.The fact remains that there are systemic reasons for poverty in South Africa. People can be and are definitely victims of circumstance, and when it comes to poverty color should not matter.”

Red spoke, Racism is the false believe that a certain group of people are more superior than the other.

Lucky replied “Right like we have to take our country into our own hands, just like Japan.”

Andy spoke “Every where I have been to in life where my brother and sister black people are I have never had an issue, I have been welcome inside their homes, although sadly to say, I had a bad experience in Ft. Worth Texas and that surprised me coming from where I have come from. It’s all in the eyes, all in the eyes- and Arlington, Texas at that time was a all loving place.” Andy looked at all the roofs of the shacks, and knew dang it, the U.S.A. wastes way to much roofing material, and what ever is left can be sent here.

Mathias laughs and says, “You may get thrown out of town. South Africa is a human basket case. The most dangerous place for a black person to walk at midnight is Capetown, but no body dare says it. You criticize what you are safe from… unless you want to be a martyr like Faydah.”

Andy changed the subject, and said, “I used to want to be a pen dealer, with a mobile store, so I can set up shop anywhere. My favorite is Papermate, the infamous Flair pen. So what is yours?”

Lucky replied, “I like Applebee or anything from Write Gear.”

Andy smiled and said, “Now we are getting somewhere.” He thought, Open discourse and transparency is the best way to make progress. Being colorblind doesn’t fix anything at all. Teach children where you or they come from and the reality of the world and help them become better people because of it. We all need to talk about racism in order for us to fix it, no one is satisfied with being silent anymore. People don’t have to throw themselves in front of a speeding train to prove that they are not racist or to be anti-racist either.

(to be continued)

ya ya the C inside the Circle John E. WordSlinger

Poetry Train Africa is the Third Book of Poetry Train Stories

Poetry Train America and Poetry Train Canada

all acknowledgments and &c &c here so join us on the journey:
a PoetryTrain.com webcast


1870to1918.wordpress.com, 21icons.com, Vimeo.com, academia.edu, africabookclub.com, africafederation.net, africamediaonline.com, african-writing.com, africanhistory.about.com, africasacountry.com, afrilingual.wordpress.com, afrotorial.com, ageofex.marinersmuseum.org, ajol.info, allafrica.com, allpoetry.com, anscissors.wordpress.com, answersafrica.com, archive.org, audubon.org, badilishapoetry.com, bbc.co.uk, bbc.com, believermag.com, berithbpc.com, bidorbuy.co.za, bilingo.co.za, biographi.ca, blacklooks.org, blackpast.orgebooks.adelaide.edu.au, blogs.wsj.com, bookrags.com, books.google.com, bookslive.co.za, boop.org, bostonreview.net, britannica.com, bucklesw.blogspot.com, bulawayo1872.com, cademia.edu, carcanet.co.uk, catholicauthors.com, cca.uct.ac.za, cca.ukzn.ac.za, chavonnesbattery.co.za, chimurengachronic.co.za, civilwarpoetry.org, classics.mit.edu, clearlywords.blogspot.com, colonialfilm.org.uk, courses.wcupa.edu, crosspathculture.org, culturebase.net, cybra.p.lodz.pl, dacb.org, damir-nis.wix.com, deepsouth.co.za, detectivekubu.com, dianaferrus.blogspot.com, dianferrus.blogspot.com, digitalcollections.lib.uct.ac.a earthfoot.org, en.wikipedia.org, encounter.co.za, encyclopediaofalabama.org, esat.sun.ac.za, eskia.org.za, everything.explained.today, fadedpage.com, firstworldwar.com, foliosociety.com, foreignpolicy.com, fvza.org, geoffs-trains.com, ghananation.com, greatzimbabweruins.com, greatzimbabweruins.comm, gutenberg.org, gutenberg.us, h-net.org, harpers.org, heraldtribune.com, homeiswheretheheartis91.wordpress.com, htmlgiant.com, hubpages.com, icarusfilms.com, ifas.org.za, images.bidorbuy.co.za, ingriddekok.co.za, inst.at, internassociation.ca, jacana.co.za, jason-stevens.com, jcl.sagepub.com, jrank.org, jrbenjamin.com, jstor.org, jutaacademic.co.za, kas.de, kiplingsociety.co.uk kiplingsociety.co.uk, kirkcenter.org, konnectafrica.net, krugerpark.co.za, latinamericanhistory.about.com, library.utoronto.ca, liquisearch.com, literarytourism.co.za, lithub.com, litnet.co.za, littleknownblacklibrarianfacts.blogspot.com, lloydbleekcollection.cs.uct.ac.za, lyrikline.org, marico.co.za, maritimemuseum.novascotia.ca, memim.com, mewlop.blogspot.com, mg.co.za, migrationheritage.nsw.gov.au, mikes.railhistory.railfan.net, mombu.com, morphologicalconfetti.com, murderiseverywhere.blogspot.com, muthalnaidoo.co.za, mvlturner.wordpress.com, myjoyonline.com, nationalgeographic.com, news24.com, newyorker.com, nimnod.org, nrz.co.zw, omniafrikan.com, online-literature.com, openculture.com, oppidanpress.com, oudewoning.wordpress.com, ozy.com, pbs.org, peterbaxterafrica.com, pharmaceutical-journal.com, pnreview.co.uk, poeryarchive.org, poetryarchive.org, poetryfoundation.org, poetryinternationalweb.net, poetrynook.com, poetrypotion.com poets.org, popecenter.org, publicdomainreview.org, pzacad.pitzer.edu, questia.com, railserve.com, railwaysafrica.com, readbookonline.net, readcentral.com, remembered.co.za, researchgate.net, robertberold.bookslive.co.za, rovos.com, ru.ac.za, sa-transport.co.za, sacred-texts.com, saharanvibe.blogspot.com, sahistory.org, sahistory.org.za, sallyalexander.com, samilitaryhistory.org, sampsoniaway.org, seat61.com, sinfin.net, slate.com, slipnet.co.za slipnet.co.za, southafrica.info, sowetanlive.co.za, st-andrews.ac.uk, stellenboschwriters.com, substancebooks.co.za, survivalinternational.org, swinburnearchive.indiana.edu, tallstoriesbookshop.com, talltalesfromthetrees.blogspot.com, tandfonline.com, techly.com.au, telegraph.co.uk, tennesseewilliams.net, the-write-stuff.com.au, theartstack.com, theguardian.com, thejournalist.org.za, thesouthafrican.com, thewhitereview.org, tiffany.com, tokencoins.com, tothevictoriafalls.com, touregypt.net, trainsafaris.com, tspace.library.utoronto.ca, ucl.ac.uk, understandingslavery.com, unesco.org, unisa.ac.za, versindaba.co.za, victordlamini.bookslive.co.za, victorianweb.org, voiceseducation.org, web.udl.cat, whataracquet.com.au, wholesomewords.org, whoswho.co.za, wikipedia.org, worldliteraturetoday.org, writers-write-creative-blog.posthaven.com,

Cape to Cairo Documentary by Minnesota Sea Grant and Dr. Athelstan Spilhaus and Louise S. O’Connor
South Africa in the 19th Century by Jim Jones
The British defence of the Pretoria – Delagoa Bay railway D W Aitken
Britain’s global trade in the Great Days of Sail – John McAleer
A Study of Poetry’ by Bliss Perry pages 262-264 the poem ‘The Congo’ by Vachel Lindsay
The Bleek Collection by Lucy Lloyd, Dorothea Bleek, and G.W. Stow
The Keeper of the Kumm by Sylvia Vollenhoven
The sad story of Lobengula’s children
Written by Chakamwe Chakamwe
The Legendary Treasure of Zimbabwe’s King Lobengula by Forbidden Treasure 2016
Three Years with Lobengula: And Experiences in South Africa By J. Cooper-Chadwick
The Boswells: The Story of a South African Circus By Charles Ricketts
For Love and Glory, Crossing the Heart of Africa by David Maxwell Braun of National Geographic
From the Cape to Cairo; the first traverse of Africa from south to north (1902) by Ewart Scott Grogan
Great Railway Journeys – Rhodesia Zambezi Epress Michael Wood & Mike Palin
Desert of the Skeletons by New Atlantis Full Documentaries
The Iron Man by Yvette Kimm
Egypt’s Revolution and Higher Education By Troy Camplin
‘New News Out of Africa’ by Charlayne Hunter -Gault
Antjie Krog and the Post-Apartheid Public Sphere: Speaking Poetry to Power by Anthea Garman
An Inappropriate Text for an Appropriate Evening – Read Antjie Krog’s Keynote Address from the 2015 Sunday Times Literary Awards
Begging to Be Black’ Liminality and Critique in Post-Apartheid South Africa by Stewart Motha
An Inappropriate Text for an Appropriate Evening – Read Antjie Krog’s Keynote Address from the 2015 Sunday Times Literary Awards by Jane Rosenthal
How the Leopard Got His Spots by Samuel Arbesman
How the leopard got his spots: Turing’s theory by Andrew Haynes
How The Literary Class System Is Impoverishing Literature
On the Systemic Economic Barriers to Being a Writer by Lorraine Berry
Roy Campbell: Bombast and Fire by Joseph Pearce
On the magazine internship crackdowns & a response to Coyne by Claire Seaborn
Bell Canada cancels massive unpaid-internship program by Zoe McKnight
Turbott Wolfe and the emotional aspects of the colour-situation by Gareth Cornwell
The Cambridge History of South African Literature edited by David Attwell, Derek Attridge
A Very Bitter Love-Making Women as Points of Cross-cultural Encounter in William Plomer’ s Turbott Wolfe by Stephen Naudé (Johannesburg)
Two of my favourite poems by South African poet Lionel Abrahams by Tony McGregor
Revealing the Leopard | Nature Documentary by The Best Documentaries
The Herman Charles Bosman Literary Society
Moolman, Modikwe Dikobe, Jane Fox and Uys Krige by Patricia Schonstein
The Keeper of the Kumm by Sylvia Vollenhoven
Specimens of Bushman Folklore By W. H. I. Bleek
Bushman dictionary By D.F. Bleek
A Bushman Dictionary by Dorthea F. Bleak
Reynard the Fox in South Africa: Or, Hottentot Fables and Tales By Wilhelm Heinrich Immanuel Bleek
The First People of the Cape: A Look at Their History and the Impact of By Alan Mountain
The Cambridge History of South African Literature edited by David Attwell, Derek Attridge
“A Very Bitter Love-Making”. Women as Points of Cross-cultural Encounter in William Plomer’ s Turbott Wolfe by Stephen Naudé (Johannesburg)

The Making of Poetry Book “MY HUMAN LEAKAGE TEST”

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on November 22, 2015 by johnewordslinger

MY HUMAN LEAKAGE TEST poetry by John E. WordSlinger Coming Soon!

On January 25th, 2014 I John E. WordSlinger took Veteran Jestor 1
to Edward Himes Jr Hospital in Chicago, IL to operate on his hands. We arrived there at 6:30 a.m. and it was colder then I can remember ever in Chicago for me anyway, and the wind was cutting through the bones. The snow that was plowed along the parking lots were at least 14 to 15 feet high, and the ground was pounding cold. Okay enough of place & environment details. What this day was going to bring was many things, but a few things were experiences I needed in my life, and one for sure was something I have been searching for, for a long time. I never experienced such strong and kind folks in a long time. The patients, the hospitals staff and the medical professionals. The Doctors seem to be, even if most were students, silent about things. I have been to hospitals before and lived in one for a year Michael Reese hospital in 1982 to 1983 but this was something totally un-expected, I sensed a different silence. Were they trying to cure the disease of war? I think so. Once Jestor 1 was having his operation. I went down to the ER waiting room… Because I noticed the seating was going to be more comfortable. I asked the man at the information desk if there was a place were there where any poetry books and he said, ‘Maybe.’ He lead me to the library and the canteen. I asked for poetry and he said, ‘Yes, follow me.’ the librarian led me to a shelf of free books, so I looked and I found the book of Susan Sontag’s ‘On Photography,’ and my eyes lit up, was this it? The book i was searching for. A writer that written a book on photography’s power, and law, and it was. The librarian waited for me and said again, ‘Follow Me.”

There was a shelf near his desk and he gave me two magazines, called Veterans’ Voices, the summer and fall issues of 2013. I asked, ‘Free?’

“Yes for you,’ he replied… I thanked him, and made my way back to the waiting room, and began to read the book and take a break from it and read some poetry from the summer issue.

Okay. I was there for 5 hours plus reading and now we are going to journey together through this book via a Youtube playlist I created. This book is powerfully packed with wisdom for the poet and &c and the people around me was recorded in my memory and I was taking all of their lives in. Families, their courage their service, and well they were at the hospital so their pains too… Furthermore their poetry-

This book is PERFECT FOR A POET, who wants to understand the power of the photograph as a poem, furthermore this is all for education, wisdom, and sharing poetry of Veterans, so we will link out, acknowledge and &c-

Photo Source: http://www.desrowan.com/journal/2010/10/12/susan-sontag-on-photography-2/
Facebook Links: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=782962775112466&set=a.783707178371359.1073741864.100001962511437&type=3&theater

Susan Sontag’s On Photography Book Playlist:

On Photography: https://books.google.com/books?id=_lN7UtRmsQwC
Susans Santogs

Ms. Sontag is a human rights activist, playwright, essayist and cultural critic. Her books include novels, a collection of short stories, and works of non-fiction, including Against Interpretation and Other Essays, On Photography, Illness as a Metaphor, Where the Stress Falls, and her latest book, Regarding the Pain of Others, which is expected to be published by Farrar, Strauss and Giroux in early 2003.

links: http://www.susansontag.com/SusanSontag/books/onPhotographyExerpt.shtml
a link to her site:

Photo Source: http://www.susansontag.com/

This book of Poetry was also inspired by the music of Clint Mansell



Susan Sontag is a Fleet of Flood Lights…

Poem Titles

My Mechanical Animal

A Poem Aiding Masturbation

Minus Seventy Seven Years

Ity Cometh Like Sarcosuchus

The Poet and The Vocabulary Movie

The Whatizzit Caravan Onto Awe City

A Blanket & A Boat


They Kept Clothed The Best They Could





~of Vainia

The Match’s That Still Burn

Say Stone

talk about the soul

The Poem Sports Car

Time Hookey In London 1876

Everyone Looks Like An Emperor

Countess Pain

Circus Shoes

Over Extended Ladders That Lead To Nowhere

Angel Child Hobo

Trip (you are a camera)

Jukebox Coffins She said, An Abracadabrant

T-Shirts & Han-kerchiefs


More Sly Than a Fox

Close Them In

bowls of water

I am a Loaded Poet, and I Love Windows To The Soul

Economic Cancer Is Here To Stay


Me-Mouse has a Kingdom, That Came Out of a Mysterious “Black Box”

My Soul Souvenirs-La Passion-Your Le Voyage

As It Is

The Queens Bold Be Bee-


Move to Chicago

Like a Glass Train

Word Sauce

Should I Let You Borrow From My Heart

(this is not a poem this is a warning)

Lets Venture Through The Zone System

Dirty Poems On A Clothes Line/New Ignorance Is the Same Old Dance

Life Guards

read faces hiding the freaky things inside their heads

Fire Me And I’ll Send Myself to Deleitosa


Acting School

Grabs In Thought Casting

Hawaiian Bread

no no no

timeless beauty

Machine Gun Poetry


Tastes of Dirt

Assault Poetry Like Reality

Secret Lotion (oh with that top lip drawn over your top teeth like you figured out something)

nitch 7:06-7:39: nitch

Ignore, Who is Royalness to Ignore? (ding dong ditch)

Wide Range

Harried Notion of a Status


Please Love Me But Kill Me I’am a Linebacker

American Pioneering of Art Shall Always Lead Back, with a Bag & a Dime

the museum of poetry

To Die Better

R.I.P. Mr. Underwood You Made It To Heaven To Your Wife

Quite & Loud

some soul taught me about sleep walkers and the mind of horses

All Poets Face Poets

Poem Hearing

Mr. Meager


Drydon Tell Donne To Kiss Your White Ass

Poetry’s Mortal Enemy’s, Name Them With The Great 5W’s

I Light Myself: MAXIMUM

Baby Cricket

Be Rude To Me

imagery here

we are all the real thing

No Upper & Underwear In the Shit Pit

Fancy Pants

Daguerre And The Harp Star, Vega


The Poetry Drone, aka the Electric Owl

Nipples & Balloons

Roofers Rock

Bad Movie (Bogus)


When Hazel Eyes Seem Black

Renata in Art

Chock Off In Mystification

Shuttle Imagery (Poetry As The Rod)

Shaking the Fence
(Illuminate Hearts to Heavenly Peace
/ A People’s Liberation Poet Fighter of the Poetry Command)
aka The Love Earth Poem

Little Screw


Poem Samples, Commentary’s and Photos Coming Soon!

Poetry Train Canada

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on October 17, 2015 by johnewordslinger

Poetry Train Canada
Hardcover – http://www.lulu.com/shop/john-e-wordslinger/poetry-train-canada/hardcover/product-22399436.html

Papaperback- https://www.createspace.com/5733461

Ladies & Gentlemen: All Aboard_Poetry Train Canada will be available tomorrow the 15th of October, in honor of the day I started writing in 1987. Poetry Train Canada is the sequel to Poetry Train America, historical fiction. A colorful combination of storytelling presenting Canadian Poetry & Poets, Railroaders and Canadian Railroad History. 2 men Red & Andy who travel Canada in the years of 2012-13-14-and 2015… To write a written documentary on Poets and the Railroad in our times… When they sleep they get taken back in time to the 19th Century, when the roads were built, and they have such great experiences, and meet key Poets, and figures… Upon waking they have conversations about Poets from the 20th Century, and RxR events… Then it goes into their written documentary on Poetry and Poets there now… Main Characters Andy and Red and Train Marshal Charlie, Alphonso G. Newcomer, Mr. Welchberry, Seth Woods, Yip Sang, Drew Mi’kmag, Sherbrooke, Scratch, Desirae E. Dibbins, Patrick O’Hara, Jimmy New Orleans, and the one and only Joseph Story.

Introduction By George Thompson aka Geo
Out of the dark and into the light at the end of the tunnel, John E Wordslinger, as in Poetry Train America, continues his creative process, with a poetic and historical journey across Canada. From sea to sea to sea, his main characters Red and Andy, whilst traversing this great nation, once again meet poets, board trains and recant their stories and adventures. Historical figures (politicians, engineers, workers) and the impact are once again brought to life.

John creates a sense of poetic wonder by touching each Province and Territory and their resident poets. Finding poets and their works creates a sense of wonder at the wealth of words and themes inherent within each piece. Red and Andy continue to weave their stories and provide humorous interludes and the many sacrifices made, as we learn of the railways and their part in building this great nation. Dreams and realities of what once was and will be are the order of the day. Moving into the present the author focuses on the Poet Igloo Bill, for both Canada and the U.S.A., and the need to link all Poets and their Poetry in unity.

With this book, John sends a message of inspiration that helped build a nation, by weaving it with poetry and using trains as the medium. Be patient and open minded. Express your imagination. The magic of words has moved mountains. Poets record the visionary impact of life. The hard work and dedication of railroaders has moved mountains and helped build this nation. It is the lifeblood that continues to play a daily role.

The engineer with hand poised on the throttle, east, west, north, south, the rails feel the pulse of the engine’s thrum.

The poet, with pen poised and readied bleeds and shares, until the final rendezvous.

The Poetry of Geo Thompson​

Poetry Train Canada Book Cover Illustration
by Kristin Morrison

Editing and formatting assistance provided
by Charles Hampton Gragg

Mindee Beth Gonzalez & Two Angels Photography

Selected Poems by Various Poets
Deborah L. Kelly, Richard Doiron, Julie Catherine Vigna, Genni Gunn, Geo Thompson, Nardine Sanderson, Yotanka E. B. Aknatoy, Dominic Albanese, Glenn Shaw, Deborah Thompson, Toyota M. Safari, Candice James, Natalia Govsha, Robert Niswander, Beverly Cialone, Carlos Gomez, K.R. Graff, Yi Pang, and Glenn Meisenheimer.

Dedicated to the Poets of Canada all through time.
Super Gorgeous Renata Augiar Rodrigues
the Youth, and the Wicked Papoose Caboose.

Thanks to Barb Colyott, Cherie Martin, Leo, Kevin Freeman, Paul S. Theobald for Chapter 7 ideas, Martin Pugh, Matt Anderson (Operation Jester), Olafur Gardarsson Chapter 12 lead. Emy Louie, and all that purchased Poetry Train America. Geo Thompson, Dominic Albanese, Yi Pang, Carlos Gomez, Anna Jessica Tonarely aka Lit Chick, Lilija Valis, Steven C. Schreiner and Dana-zoe Gest who have donated to the
website poetrytrain.com.

PoetryTrain.com Poets & Sara Polidoro for the information and thoughts in Chapter 14. Thanks to Dominic Albanese & Alicia Young for kids mailed off fun. & Zach Wells for accurately placing Poets to chapters that are inaccurate data placed by tagging and Google errors that are found from Poet searches online as well as poets who have submitted poems.

In honor of Alphonso Gerald Newcomer.
He said Canadian Poets were a force to deal with,
he was very correct!



Poetry Train Canada Book Trailer:



I love the book, the journey, the poetry, and most of all the truth, and the wisdom. The future Poets and Geo Thompson was a premier driving force beside my coach Charles H. Gragg, and else I have to say is please enjoy, because I surely have and did… Sincerely, John E. WordSlinger… Much love to all of you, that means everyone in this book… Poets all through Canadian Time.

Th’Paxsters (Screenplay by John E. WordSlinger)

Posted in Screenplay on September 18, 2015 by johnewordslinger

Synopsis: Action/Sci Fa/Romance, A story of two country ladies who figure out how to bring the world to true order. They used Mother Nature and the internet since it began to accomplish their goals, but their goals were not just theirs, they were a majority, and majority rules. They also go on the hunt for Jesse James gold, to pay for many debts. Their team is world wide, and they make the Hermitage, the Home of Andrew Jackson, the new Capital of the World. They bring world peace to the world, and solve world hunger, furthermore putting abortion to a halt!


a screenplay

by John E. WordSlinger

(aka th’kissers of peace/Peace Kissers)

SOUND SONG 1: Disturbed-Down with the Sickness



Get off the roads, and stay home! The Great North American, The United States, and Canada faces the worst winter storm in history. Dumping snow, sleet, and ice. Cutting power to millions of residents, furthermore the death toll on the interstates, and highways rise above a quarter of a million.

MEGAN switched channels and hears;


to deal with the really significant event here I wanna try it’s gonna be a long track, a long love winter weather event.

MEGAN pressed mute on her remote control. She was sickened by the un-concerned stupidity of the world, and the T.V. But she continued to write little red hearts on all the money she had to pay her bills with. She then sat back, and thought about all the grief everyone was going through on the interstates, and what was happening tonight.


Cars piled up, Diesel Semi Trucks plow into and through cars. State police, emergency vehicles were everywhere. These chain reaction crashes reacted something more dreary. Escape for survivors just got worse. Officials were warning the people to get off the roads and stay home everywhere. Mother Nature and Human Nature were adding misery and death. These storms were proving to be much for Authorities and Rescue crews.


MEGAN looked at her hand written letter from her pen pal peace maker friend SHARINA from China, and she contemplates her devotional correspondence between the two. They met each other online back in 1996 on the website MP3.com, they both loved the band Begets of Autumn. She reads,


Dear Megan,

I received your letter, so this will be a quickie, not for general publication. Letters are seen by many people here, so make sure the poems are well encased and edited, invisible from without. I have been told some of these Chinese post office officials are clever. Please send no Christmas gift, your friendship is my gift. But if you do I want your homemade honey covered chocolate.

More later. Thanks for everything.

I received an air mail letter from brother KIROV today also.

God bless you, SHARINA.

MEGAN thought fear was everywhere as she looked at the clock.



ROSANNE came in the apartment. She was MEGAN’S roommate, and she was a stripper. A great one at that. Stage theatrics, dance, and anything fashionable old and new. ROSANNE was performing tonight for some high dollar competition, a nation wide competition. Pole dancing became a Olympic sport. (A Poster on the Wall) MEGAN had confidence, but concerned with the weather and with what she had to do today. MEGAN was going to check on her father LANCE who was home alone, and he was probably tending to his bee farm. MEGAN and ROSANNE did not say a word because all was okay. They had to get in hustle and bustle mode, and take care of things for the night. They both had a Pax symbol tattoo.



(happy and clothed for warmth)

Store the honey, store the honey. I am so excited to see you Megan, and excited about moving the foundations. Draw out the comb.



(happy & cold)

Hello father, chewing it up are we.




Protecting dear, protecting. Sensing. Honey is so sacred. Folk methods reveal dear, they reveal.



Father I met a man, and he’s a Poet, and I like him.


(protective and busy)

Is he unraveling the soul of my wonderful and beautiful daughter?


(happy and smiling) Yes, little by little father.


(protective and busy)

Is he a prophet Poet, the kind I like?


(happy and smiling)

I think so, I have not read all of his work. His name is ADILSON ALCANTARA. He’s not American. He is from Brazil. He speaks Portuguese.


(protective and busy)

A blessed tribe.


(happy and smiling)


MEGAN looked at all the different honey containers on the front porch from all the years that have gone by as they enter the home.



Father so is all the help I found you doing good work with all of your self-service honey stands?

I know the old fashioned honor system, but we live in a frantic world now.



Yes. The stand’s are open all year round as long as honey supply lasts. And you know what battles we face.



(fast and shifting gears)

SOUND SONG 2: Blur – Song 2

ROSANNE’s listening to the band Blur, Song 2 the whoo hoo whoo hoo hoo song, and thinking about the nights tasks. She takes the best clear routes to work into the city. ROSANNE’s smart phone goes bizerk, text messages, voicemails, Facebook messages and multiple calls come in at once.





KIROV looked at a picture of Jesse James, and many Chiefs of the America badlands of the U.S.A. on his office wall. They were his heroes. He then looked on the internet for the current status of the Plekhanov brothers, and the progress of the Global Energy Transmission. He then picked up his revolver from off of the table, and spun the chambers. He smiled and, put it on his desk; knowing he would never come back to Russia. He then pressed send on a massive e-signal. He then looked at his plane tickets to Nashville, Tennessee under the name of J.D. Howard, and laughed, furthermore sung a Hank Williams song. ‘Poor ol Kaw-Liga!’ He stood up, and looked into the mirror, and took a long hard look at his self. The pain of all the abortions his woman had from his life surfaced, and then he looked up, and the pain went away.


SOUND SONG 3: Hank Williams Kaw Liga



Choices have been made, and not only that ha, they won’t quite know what to make of this! He looked at his watch, and thought the storm is a day ahead of time.

KIROV walked out the door to go to the airport thinking in confidence, this is not about attention, and I can’t wait to meet the alliance at the gate.







Is this man ADILSON ALCANTARA of the spirit?


I think so. I have not let him sting me yet.


(Stern but comical)

He better be a Honey of an O, and better not piss in my cheerios!



He better be, or he won’t get no royal jelly.


(deeply concerned)

What is wrong father, I can tell something is bothering you?



This winter can put us out of business.


(action excellence camera person on it!)

Megan comes over to her father, and hugs him, I love you father.



I was 14 years old, and remember getting snow in boots freezing my feet my hands. Megan you are my Queen of the Sun, regardless.



Oh Father, you should rest I will come back tomorrow, I am going to the pet shop, bait shop, and going fishing.


(left her father be, and on the way to her car)








ROSANNE had faith in, the great smoke out, Money & Gold be honey new to and fro, then rapid flashbacks of her abortions, and felt what was right, upon arrival of her duty. As she stopped into the parking lot, she looked into her rear view mirrors, and seen everyone back there, she unloaded her duty.)


ROSANNE got a message from KIROV, and text-ed SHALL WE BEE, and he was in flight. And ROSANNE was tired of being a Rosanne & Roxanne, ROSANNE was dreaming/living, but was born named Roxanne, flashback of growing up. As ROSANNE was driving her fully stocked 1973 white Gremlin, with a green stripe down the middle under the viaduct ROSANNE recalled a tunnel, and contemplated fast, drive through, only because more ROSANNE was the boss, stripper undercover accountant, full attendant, never going to sleep spirit. ROSANNE was not that Roxanne. ROSANNE turned around, and burnt rubber, and popped wheelies, ROSANNE was going to work… ROSANNE turned up her radio, the song Lincoln, Lincoln by Haystack was on. ROSANNE text’d once!

SOUND SONG: 4 Haystak – Lincoln, Lincoln



I am the Queen, and the heck with table dancing, turn the tables, and we are going to shake down the hive, but this is no artificial swarm… no more excluding… I love my big fat drones, and the diverse worker bees… and I bet they won’t, and thank us for the medicine they think is poison. Our liberating twist on how conditioned minds affect the way minds perceive the world. You see I know when my pussy willows bloom, and I know when my wolves, and owls carve the moon…. We need to maintain and be kept in the strongest condition possible. Remember we started spreading the wax early. We the Paxters, our colony can equalize too, because we are the the main force in the three great revolutionary movements of class struggle. All-righty Almighty Queen cells, you know what to do, swarm… Flower to flower. Dance baby, Sweep, Waggle Dance!!! That’s an order for odor. River was and Always Shall be Red.



mother frextruckers I bee the fishing POLE-XANNERAPID E & DIRT REALITY

Scrambling electric signals. Roberts rrg February 4, 2012 at 2:03pm · Like Kleman is that the one they call nada tunnel ?? March 2, 2012 at 8:41pm · Like Turner love the gorge Carpenter it’s been years since i been there so pretty have to take my girl there sometimes. March 2, 2012 at 9:06pm · Like Boy And the water spring on the other side. March 3, 2012 at 10:47am · Like · 1 Imam wow March 10, 2012 at 4:03am · Like Baillargeon very cool!! March 25, 2012 at 6:56pm · Like Troy not a tunnel August 14, 2012 at 8:47am · Like · 1 Galleger The Nada Tunnel, entry to one of the most beautiful places on earth. September 15, 2012 at 9:18pm · Like · 1 Olan This was awesome to drive through my pics didn’t come out quiet like this but it was neat October 23, 2012 at 7:51am · Like Anderson Nada!! October 23, 2012 at 10:53am · Like Anderson I miss the gorge. I’d be there more if I didn’t have warrants in ky. Stupid local police hackled me last time I was there and busted me for possession of marijuana. Shit should be legal down there!!! October 23, 2012 at 10:54am · Like Jenkins This is NADA tunnel there’s a sign at the beginning of the tunnel that tells you all about it It was made by using dynamite and a few men lost their lives in the process! November 2, 2012 at 4:29am · Like Alexander been through here so many times July 18, 2013 at 5:32am · Like Lay August 28, 2013 at 9:27am · Like





Come here TOPPER, you are my hero.

MEGAN knelt down, and petted him before opening the door. Once inside the phone rang, and it was ADILSON ALCANTARA and he was about to land at the airport. She felt he was near too, and she was excited to finally meet him.


(happy go lucky)



Heaveno Dear, I am about to bee there.


(smiling while speaking)

Okay great, I am on my way there. It is good there’s no delay, you’re lucky.


(tilts head)

barked, because MEGAN always said I am so lucky to have a smart dog, that teaches me things.


(smiling while speaking)

We have many goals tonight, and she laughs a bit, the laugh when she wants to be loved.



Yes we do, and you my Dear are first on my list.


Yes, because the stakes are high for humanity right now, and we have much to do before dawn. MEGAN lost the call, and she set the phone down, and TOPPER barked at the phone. MEGAN looked at TOPPER. Topper, you are going to help us find world peace tonight, and many days of peace for all. MEGAN kissed TOPPER, and left to go to the airport.




(on plane and calm)

KIROV from Russia was about to arrive at the same airport at the same time as ADILSON ALCANTARA from Brazil was. KIROV was excited too to meet up again with ARIZONA, (images/footage of ARIZONA entering the airport to meet KIROV) ARIZONA are American friends who were many, and they are were members of the American Armed forces, furthermore this group was spread out all over the country ready to take action, to be betrayed no more.

SOUND SONG: 5 Faith No More – Epic




Security escorts, and lady friend strippers come out to escort ROSANNE in to the strip club.



Yall ready for the real lock down? Yes they all replied. Because the current Justice is boredom.

ROSANNE looked at her 1973 Gremlin and asked security to check the fusses. She then thought, and laughed inside.


& ‘My car has been spotted often.’

ROSANNE looked at the moon, and they all headed to the dressing room.



KIROV was on the phone with ADILSON ALCANTARA as they both were about to land.


If we have a dry runway, we can take a crosswind of 25 knots.


A five-knot crosswind could blow us off a frictionless ice-covered runway.


Alright brother. There’s no freezing rain.



SOUND SONG: 6 Megadeth -These Boots



(walking to gate 23)


(walking to gate 24)


(walk off the planes & meet MEGAN & ARIZONA)




(eyes gleaming)

The truth is we’ve all been indicted, in various ways, with various responsibilities that come from our individual voices and gifts. Let’s use those gifts. Deadline is tonight. All bets are off. It’s game on to put anarchists and politicians in check, to convert them back to humanity. Because they have a cowardly way to play. To change the inequality we have to have a new diplomacy. We have been in the age of the false flag, and political parties hate each other to the core yet, they love Israel unconditionally, furthermore they have the mentality of its better to be judged by 12 than carried by 6. Mother nature is on our side tonight, entangling the whole country. As Wendell Berry said, Whether we and our politicians know it or not, Nature is party to all our deals and decisions, and she has more votes, a longer memory, and a sterner sense of justice than we do. It’s treaty time, our way, no weak left out!




SOUND SONG: 7 Megadeth – Hook in Mouth


(sad with images of abortions as they ride past the Tennessee State Capitol)





SOUND POEM 1: A Shropshire Lad 35: On the idle hill of summer by A.E. Housman


On the idle hill of summer,

      Sleepy with the flow of streams,

Far I hear the steady drummer

      Drumming like a noise in dreams.

Far and near and low and louder

      On the roads of earth go by,

Dear to friends and food for powder,

      Soldiers marching, all to die.

East and west on fields forgotten

      Bleach the bones of comrades slain,

Lovely lads and dead and rotten;

      None that go return again.

Far the calling bugles hollo,

      High the screaming fife replies,

Gay the files of scarlet follow:

      Woman bore me, I will rise.


SOUND POEM: 2 No Man Is An Island by John Donne

No man is an island entire of itself; every man 
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; 
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as 
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine 
own were; any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind. 
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. 


SONG SOUND: 8 Luke Bryan – Country Girl

Music playing. Strobe lights flashing, hands clapping and shouting. The D.J. announces, ‘Welcome to Professional Night, and guess what everyone, all the ladies are single’. The group on the stage at the moment are wearing, patriotic costumes with stars on them, and they all held sparklers. They were boneless, body-rolling against the pole, air-humping and flashing sultry looks in the judges’ direction. The most advanced climb to the top, then drop, head first, only to catch themselves by squeezing the pole with their legs in the nick of time. Some do splits on the ground, splits hanging upside down, and splits against the pole. One had a swinging pole. Waitresses were bringing dirty martinis to C.E.O.’s, Senators and State Representatives.


INT. (inside ROSANNES great competitor took stage as they entered the club)

SONG SOUND: 9 Eurythmics – Sweet Dreams

KIROV, ARIZONA, & KIROVALNDO took seats at tables while MEGAN went back to the dressing hall, and entered. All Dancers back stage were all nice & polite to MEGAN as she entered. She noticed them stretch, and pin numbers on their shirts, and some seal their costumes to their bodies with roll-on glue.


(getting dressed anxious to get the ball rolling and see KIROV for the first time.)

Hey MEGAN, is KIROV here?


(anxious to return to ADILSON ALCANTARA)



(excited & smiling)

Okay, great.

ROSANNE looked at the dancers and said, ‘Check your guns, and gear. Pole cleaners, no need to clean anymore after tonight.’ They all laughed. PAMELA, a dancer gave her a piercing look, that ROSANNE and no one else noticed. ROSANNE was ready to take the stage. She wore a dark pink metal latex body suit, and a gas mask. ROSANNES looked at everyone and said, “It’s Roll Time.” ROSANNE made her way to the stage. She had two songs to dance to.

(made her way back to the tables.)

PAMELA went to ladies room, and was shaking using her phone.


took the stage


Photo Source: http://stygian-thinspo.blogspot.com/2010/01/gas-masks.html

A PERSON FROM AUDIENCE SCREAMS OUT That’s, like, the god of pole right there!

SOUND SONG: 10 The Toxic Waltz

After song one and CAM SHOTS OF CEOS & SENATORS &c, ADILSON ALCANTARA, MEGAN, KIROV, & ARIZONA went back stage to put on their gear. ARIZONA got signals that this was on, happening all over the U.S.A. Operation Honey Bee was in effect.

SOUND SONG: 11 The Black Eyed Peas – My Humps



noticed Pamela was not around, so she went to look for her. MEGAN went to the ladies room, and PAMELA was on the phone, she dropped it once she seen MEGAN.


(pissed off)

MEGAN reached behind her, and pulled out her gun, and shot PAMELA in the chest. The tranquilizer dart laid PAMELA out ‘hot. MEGAN grabbed the phone, and headed back to the tables.


We have a problem, we have a Judas Bitch among us.



Gear up.

((All Paxsters put on their gas masks))

KIROV took the phone, and looked at it, and gave it to a member of Arizona. He then engaged the knock out (K.O.) gas inside the club. Flood lights came on inside the club, vapors from the gas filled up the club. All doors were locked from the outside. No one was leaving. Slowly all C.E.O.s Senators, and &c fell to the ground. None kept hostage.

SOUND SONG: 12 Tammy Wynette – Stand By Your Man

Members of Arizona took plastic card info from them, and scanned the info, and dropped all plastic cards on the bodies of the owners. This act happened in every strip club all over the nation. No one was killed. All was silent.



ARIZONA 3 I need info on that phone.


Calls to the local Banner (Newspaper)


Bring PAMELA with us

S.U.V.s and hard-body cars pull up into the parking lot of the strip club.

SOUND SONG: 13 Project Pat/Three Six Mafia -If You Aint from My Hood


a member of ARIZONA rolled down his window and spoke

Shit hit the fan, and let the blood run freely, drop all cards freely, and since we live in a chicken hunting word/world, Lets see who is the leader? No one little brother, ya oh, this here planet we are claiming and your life. The world is sleep walking on all levels, and the real is level above and level below and they all shall never be real for sure. Ya ya, oh and it shall be, and it all it takes is a screwdriver and a hammer and let the blood flow, sleepers. And day/night, and the folks that know how to sweep with boots on, they are made for walking, but once you realize ya fight, you sweep them off their boots, and there’s hammers and screwdrivers everywhere, so and you have everyone scared, our leaders failed, because they don’t use hammers and screwdrivers and the same time and place. Look that up. Ya this here is not a war, this is here is the solution, crawl and hit, no crying you all. Remember it is world ball, simple hammer and screwdriver. We are hiding out at the Hermitage, follow us, wobble wobble.

(original lingo write below)

DESHAWN Shit hit the fan. An” Let dAAAA DE4DDDDD bLooddd RUn, fReElee, an’ DRopp AL CArdsssss FrEeleE, An’ $incEE wE’s LiV UH chIckn hunTn; Word/wOrLd,, Lets CC Hoo iZZZ Uh LeadEr? NoTa LIllll BrAhh Yaaa Yaa O” DisheRE PlANett WE’S Claim izz E’O Yo’ Lifeo…. DA WuRld Izz $lEeP WALkin AWn 2 Levels, an’ Deree Iz uh leVel Above &&& AN’ Uh LEvel Below:andd DEaYy Al $hall NEva b deRe Fo’ Da $ho, Ya YA,, o,, An’ It $hall bE=, An” It ONleh TAkEss Uh $CRewdriVuH aN’ Uh HAmmuh, AN’ LeT Da BlooD fLo,,, $leepuhS,,, An’ AL chu Da Ta Day/NigHtt TA NIgHtt Folks Dat Noo Hw TA $weEp, Wifff BoOtsss AWn,, deayyyy iZ Made FO” WAlkin, buT ONcE CHu Realize, DA fight. Chu $WEep Wif DEmm O booTsayy O derE Iz HamMuhS an’ $cReWDriVuHs everyWhere, $OO Ahh Gots NaHh IdEa WUtt EvErYoNe iz $cAred O’,,, LeadUhS goTss fAIled,, CUzz deayY NEVa USeD uh HAmmUH An” $crewdRivUH At daa $amesss Tymee an’ PlaCe,, LocK Datt UhP!! yA,, DisHerEEE iz NawT UHHHH War, DishEre Iz Uh $olution>>> Crawl &&&& Hit- NahHH Cryinn Yall, REmembUHH it IZZZ Wurldd BAll, $implee HamMUH AN’ $CrewdRiveR… We Hiding out at Hermitage, follow us. Wobble Wobble

SOUND SONG: 14 504 Boyz – Wobble Wobble


They all drove away to the home of Andrew Jackson.

EXT & INT. (Jeep Cherokee)


(Banner Reporter said to himself as he was parked a block away from the club.)

Desperate times call for desperate measures. The fact is I am a broke journalist, and I am not part of the system. Hate being divorced, child support due. No sympathy, I need their story.

(he then drove, and followed them, while his scanner went bizerk.)

10-1 — officers in distress.


I’m not religious, but to me it’s proof of something awesome going on elsewhere in life.

Cold was the best crime deterrent, not with this bunch. Well, sitting down with these folks might help solve the worlds problems I was looking into. A new moral ground.




We are being followed, let them come to the party.

ADAM SMITH (followed)

Sound Song: 15 Rockwell- Somebody’s Watching Me


Trees and old civil war looking fencing were on both sides of the narrow road leading to the Hermitage. A light snow fell as they parked the vehicles. The two story home gave them all chills as they looked at it exited the vehicles. The Trail of Tears came to all of their minds, and so did love making for KIROV & ROSANNE.

As they followed DESHAWN, everyone walked in through the door, the hallway was huge, stairs winding to the left. DESHAWN walked into the parlor, and there was a fireplace, small tables and not enough chairs.


Where did all these people sit?


I heard that, we have new furniture, with food supplies. Lock the Gate, player.

AH HurR DaT, WE’s GOtSS NU furniTuR Awn DAAA Wa,, wIfff FoOd $upplIes. Lock the Gate.


Where’s the superintendent?


Chained and sleeping in the slave quarters, swag me out, and fact put that white ass girl Pamela out there with him.

yo CHAiNEd an’ $leepiN Yn DA Slave Quarters. SWAGG Me OuT. ynn FakT Put Dat WHiTe-A$$$ GuurL (PAMELA) Outi ThuH wit HiM.



Hey player ring the bell, call for Alfred and bring me Andrew Jacksons’ cape.

Hey PlayA,, rINN Da Bell, HolLa Fo” AlfreD, An’ BRiG Mee AnDRew JAcksonssss’ Cape!


(walked out onto the balcony too)

They’ll get more visitors now, imagine that. Andrew was a common man though. A rock star, the father of American Democracy.

DESHAWN I get the master bedroom.


(looked at ROSANNE and smiled)

(wanting & needing)

Baby, I can’t wait.

ROSANNE ran out the door, up the stairs, and into the Master Bedroom. KIROV followed.



Start the fire in this fireplace as she looked into the mirror above the fireplace.

(ROSANNE looked up at the portrait of Rachel Jackson.

This is a public debate as in the history of First Ladies. I know what it is like to fear for your life. And I chose the plot too. And I also withdraw from Society’s glare. But I know what wormwood poison is. Because I am the smartest little woman in America.


SOUND SONG: 16 Nu Shooz – I Can’t Wait

OUTRO (back intro later)



(Opened her briefcase)

This land is haunted. Cherokees and Black people mostly. This land is cursed. Titans my cats ass.

(she pulled out a cheap minute phone, and some silent dog whistles)

Here are the tools, the Galton’s whistle and my sheep herding whistle. You are going to love TOPPER.

Looked at his phone smiling

The Drones are in place, and the snow is in control.



This was the positions of the Drones who were members of ARIZONA on horseback and four wheelers at locations where they met up with other Border Collie owners, Queens they were called.



(wearing Andrew Jacksons Cape)
(Chaining up PAMELA next to the Hermitage superintendent.)

Lets say we are doing a renovation, say all slave quarters across America. Let just say we are the hornets nest. You know fine things come from agriculture.

LeT’$ $aayyy We’s Iz DoInn Uh renOVashun. $aayY OL” Barns aN’ $laVe QuARTuhss Acro$$$ AmeRIca, LEt’$ JUSSSS $aaYYY We’s Iz uH HOrNEt’$$$ Nest. CHu Noo dIgG EDucATINN WASS Fyne thIngS Com frM. A AgricultUr.


An angry hard working culture with true historical significance. This is your sleeping quarters until further notice, sleeping quarter fabulous.
A aNgreE, HarDD WoRKinn Cultur Wiff Uh TRuee HIStORicall $IgnIfiCAnce. DIsHeRe Izz Uh $leePiN QUarTuhs UntIl FurtHuhh NoTIcE. $lEepiN QuaRtUh FAbuLous.

(walks out slamming the door)


SOUND SONG: 17 War – Low Rider


We found a pinata, he’s got a camera, ha ha. So I says, you’re going to take a little trip with me.


(the human journalist- pinata)


Lets chain him up.

let’$$ Chain Himm UHPPP WIT DA oTHuHs. wE’sss HV 22 eAts.




This is so cool, look at all of these books.

(MEGAN got close to ADILSON ALCANTARA. She thought of ROSANNE & KIROV having a great time having sex upstairs. She looked at ADILSON ALCANTARA and he seemed occupied, so MEGAN went into to safety mode and walked away)

MEGAN A kosher home, and we strive to make the world better.

(MEGAN picks up the land line and calls SHARINA in China telling her they are there at the home of Andrew Jackson. She then called her father LANCE to make sure all was well. MEGAN used her cell phone to turn on the T.V at home for TOPPER and this gave TOPPER the signal to find MEGAN so TOPPER went out the Dog door, and was outside. MEGAN took the dog whistles, and went outside on the balcony to call TOPPER, and TOPPER heard, and ran fast to the Andrew Jackson home. The new home of the PAXSTERS.



( were lying on the bed, chest to chest. ROSANNE was in a rocking motion, rubbing her self on KIROV, and he manually griped her ass with both hands. Looking deep into each others eyes.)

(turned on & confident)
Don’t be scared Kirov, our baby will be born, and happy. I will be a good mother.


(smiled but clenched his fists)


We have our careers as world leaders now. No grief, or regret, just nurturing each other, and our baby. We will be three not two or separated, you will always be my number one Kirov.



Society can’t be controlled so we won’t let society control us. We have a baby to make, and more. You have an unexpected true love, me. No more shame, no more depression.




Deshawn you did not check them for weapons, and I found this pistol on Adam Smith.


What, okay, did he talk about my woman, yes he did. Don’t lie. Look it’s duel time now. Get him, me and him are going to have a duel, and he gets to use his gun, and if he kills me, you are to put him under. I want a real duel, with this fool.


did what DeShawn said.


(fluffed up his Andrew Jackson cape)

Hickory Dickory Dock, Deshawn is on the block. We don’t take things lightly. This is a matter of honor.




(handed ADAM SMITH his loaded gun)

I hope you’re the best shot in Tennessee here Mr. Adam Smith.


(scared peeing his pants)


no I want to know the story of you all, so the world knows your story, that’s why I am here. I am recently divorced and have child support. I want the story of a lifetime. Don’t do this. I am better off writing your story not being dead.


(looks at ARIZONA)

You know the drill.

(Deshawn then looks at ADAM SMITH)

I will take my paces back and yours. I will look you in the eyes and make my move. Get me!


(paces back)

(looks at ARIZONA then at DESHAWN)


(stopped and looked at ADAM SMITH in the eyes)


NO, for the love of what ever.


(freaks out, and fire his gun 2 times, one shot low and one shot high.)


DeShawn that was stupid dude! And thanks for talking all crazy since we have been here.


Now he will write, chain him up somewhere else, and don’t leave him. Whatever Arizona-wHaTevUh ArizonAAA.


to PRISONERS, SHOCK n AWE of GUN FIRE, they all run to the balcony to see what was up!

SOUND SONG: 18 Guns N’ Roses – Civil War



(thinking of ROSANNE & KIROV, furthermore daydreaming of making love to ADILSON when the shots were fired)



(pinned up against the corner of the walls, making love to KIROV, when the two shots were fired.)


(new high gear mind set)
We have peace work now, so sooner. Those shots were heard. We have to prepare, the police can be coming here. It’s Jazz time. The Neo-Roaring 20’s. The un-scandal is trapped, do I sound neo-flappy?

(grabbing new gadget)

Lasers set, all remotes signaling 100%, circling. Waiting response from China. There she is.

(looking down at gadget)
Baptism of fire

SOUND SONG: 19 Cruel Woman the Roaring 20s aka Hitch’s Happy Harmonists


((Officer in pursuit to gunshot calls gets a call from dispatch to come to the station immediately.))




(dressing in a hurry)


(sad & mad)
I will be right there.


(clenches his fists, and walks out with his tranquilizer guns)


(gets dressed in a beautiful dress, this is filmed in a sexy roaring 20’s way, not clothing way)



Running through the snow, and getting closer the Home of Andrew Jackson. And he wears a (smart collar. new high tech laser receptor collar)



TOPPER is getting closer, and the lasers & whistles are working fine, he will be here in no time. IN fact all Collies are headed to their Queens. We will be ready soon.

SOUND SONG: 20 Limp Bizkit – (Mission Impossible 2)


(moving fast and gathering & walking to horse stable)

Today we are reforming our world wide economic system, re-imagining education, like the pursuit of natural curiosity; and conceiving health care and immigration legislation that empathizes with human beings who are suffering; and realizing the necessity of a pharmaceutical industry not based on profit. Re-designing our prison system as a system of rehabilitation rather than demonization; and ceasing to arrest/imprison people for victimless crimes; and stocking grocery store shelves with wholesome, nutritious foods, and getting our hundreds of thousands of homeless people some food and shelter. We need to grow up in warm communities in which people nourish rather than disdain one another. To be compassionate rather than judgmental.

(relaying data)

Detection, Sweeping, and Ranging, Sir. Systems spiting laser pulses, and measurements. Cloud densities okay. Soon we will discover the treasures that lay beneath. Maps detailed, with spectrometer measurements, chemical and optical properties. Showing spikes in illegal gold mining in the region now. Cameras are surveying now Sir. Mirrors engaged. Drones ready.

(In her dress walking towards them in the stable, smiling.)

My my, my Southern Bell, would you join us on a mission?

(bowed the Southern Gal way, and jumped upon KIROV’S HORSE.)
I don’t mind if I do Sir,

(happy dog)

(smiling happy woman)

Good horses and dogs are meant the difference between freedom and capture, life and death.



Operation Cody Cody!

SOUND SONG: 21 Russian Red Army Choir -The Sacred War



Governor, There’s blockade. We are surrounded by an army it seems like.


Call the national guard.


They are the national guard sir, and they Occupy all State Capitols.




Okay everyone we have a serious dilemma on our hands. We have been warned that we have no control over our grids, that have been highjacked by an unknown source, and they can be shut down at anytime. We believe it is China and Russia.


(that was in pursuit of gunshot call)

I bet everyone wished they all kept their antennas now, and learned radio. I knew this shit was coming. All communications will be paralyzed soon.



Horseback rode fast through the snow to the Red River in Tennessee to meet RxR PAXSTERS.

SOUND SONG: 22 -Granger Smith–“What Would Jesse James Say”




(looking into ADAM SMITHS eyes)

So you want to know about the PAXSTERS do you? How would you handle the worlds unnecessary problems? Would you like a beer? I am going to play a song for you. Haha, I am black man and I love this song, Do you know of the Poet Black Bart? Lol, get ready to write your story Mr. Smith.


SONG SONG: 23 Iron Maiden – Black Bart Blues


The Paxsters intruders alarms went off


(a phone went off into his pocket, a phone loud and has never been heard before, and was loud to all of the PAXSTERS ears and emotions. )

(digging in pockets, grabs phone, and turns on speaker phone so the whole tribe hears! IN COMING HIGH TECH PHONE LOL.)

Kirov, you are so beautiful. Thank you for hearing me out in how much I miss my kids, thank you for showing the world the difference. I hand it to Kirov. I am only one mother in Russia, that has a child that learned to love me after so may years like thirty!
( talks into speaker phone.)

My Dying Biographer,

I have always been o conquered.

How can I carry so many,

That ask to write their lives.

Only if they’d just only write.

I am knelt down & rising

Do they see I am?

(lazer kills the phone & diggs for another one and gives life with a laser, and sends a mission.)


Follow us. And I have poem for you.


We speak for the aborted!

SOUND SONG: 24 Megadeth – Hook in Mouth

SOUND POEM: 3 “women” (spoken word poetry)




Yellow signal in Adairville, Campbellsville, bright at Devils Canyon, Russelville, and brighter at Wakefield, Kentucky, south Mt. Washington.


10/4, lets use the snowmobile boats from here.


We have red signals nearby.


Yankee Blys, alright, text ABEL THE CABLE, tell him to crew up, and meet us at Devils Canyon, It’s cold out here, humidity is making it colder.

EXT Breaths can be seen like small smoke signals, as they rode to a secluded place by the railroad.


We can lay nails with our breath.


Trains on time.


10/4, lets sled up explosives, lighting, food, and fuel tankers, and Squad2, the ladies, and TOPPER can bring the horses to Devils Canyon.




(snugged up to KIROV)

I am cold but I’ll be okay.


Cold honey

snugging up in hugs. Warm you up soon Love.


Red signals are moving in. Yankee Blys. We have to move, fast!

SOUND SONG: 25 Wings – Band On The Run




This is going to be a long manhunt.


What, we are expert marksmen, and we have the hounds?


United we stand, divided we fall!


Bullshit Sir, They are separating.


You may think so. We are going to open the gates for them. They are experts DEPUTY. You may not see this but we are out numbered, it’s a good choice.


No, I quit, I’ll bounty hunt them.


Give me your badge!


Will do!

DEPUTY CARNEY handed the SERGENT RAD his badge, looked at the other Marshalls.

Who’s with me, we have work to do?

Only a hand full followed the DEPUTY CARNEY handing over their badges to the SERGENT RAD…


(spit chewing tobacco out)

You shall fall.

DEPUTY CARNEY and his followers follow in a Truck, and get in pursuit…

SOUND SONG: 26 Smokey and the Bandit – Eastbound and Down Jerry Reed



ROSANNE take care of my horse Charlie love, and he kissed her.


Copperheads versus Goldheads, we are appreciated. Lets go with it, get the gear from the train, lets go set up.


Whoo we, you don’t fuck with the Railroad boys, and laughs, and sung, ‘Railroads Down’.



INT. AT ANDREW JACKSON DESHAWN & ABEL THE CABLE got the signal, and sung ‘Railroads Down’ too.



(On his radio)

Dispatch, disable state vehicles ten through twelve at once, no questions asked!

DISPATCHER voice, Yes Sir!


(inside vehicle)

Son oooofff a bitcccccccccccccchhhhhhhhhh!


Let’s follow them, they know we are, but we may have to intervene with Rangers, and emergency call in’s, and vigilantes.




Why are divorced ADAM SMITH?


(looking down at the floor)

I don’t make enough money.


Why do you want to write about us?


Truth, beyond mayhem, justice and plunder. Once a story breaks out it saves your life.


(looked at his behavior, and thought his answer was direct, and ADAM SMITH’s jaws were relaxed.)

Are you fucking Pamela?



Hell no, it’s business.


I am not the police. I don’t have mercy. I’ll be back. I am going to get us some more beer.

(DESHAWN watched ADAM SMITH through the crack of the hinge part of the door. ADAM SMITH sat there motionless, and then ADAM SMITH cracked his knuckles.)

ADAM was calm as DESHAWN went to get some beer, once on return.


Tell me about this story. How are you going to write it?


I want to tell it like it is.


I can tell know you are a good person. I want to star in the story.
(DESHAWN looked at ADAM SMITH for a deep good answer.)


No, I want the whole story.


(laughs and was happy about the response and answer.)

Okay, well you are going to where the action is then. ABEL THE CABLE will take you to Devils Canyon, so you can write your story, you have your tools, go get them, cameras, note books whatever. Go get them. No guns. We have the sleepy honey pie guns, tranquilizers.


(Raised up, and was happy)

Thanks DESHAWN, I won’t let you all down, thanks.

(ADAM SMITH ran out, down the stairs to get his gear.


( went to the balcony and observed all of this and called ABEL THE CABLE.)

Take ADAM SMITH the reporter with you.




SOUND SONG: 28 Molly Hatchet – Devil’s Canyon


TOPPER come here boy, okay you are in the lead. You know what to do beautiful TOPPER.


(barked with approval and dog happiness)


They look hot in those cowboy boots, and them boots don’t need to be insulated.


You aren’t telling me nothing.


Them beards too baby, inner thighs don’t lie. You are a stubble girl, aint ya MEGAN?


They are gorgeous without them. Ya our Kentucky mammoth cavemen.



I do like ADILSON’s glorious chops.


I wonder about our new in-laws, do you?


No, not yet. KIROV better worry about my Papa LANCE. I need to call him.


(called her father as she got out their daredevil-bee pheromone kits.)


We have to follow the water, like bitch footsoldier.com on horses. Lets gather this gold of Jesse James



Lets say a prayer before we throw on the Fukushima data on America, creating an invisible honey comb grid attaching to the Plekhanov brothers aka Tesla tower.


Yes okay but we don’t we don’t need no foam, glow in the dark bullshit, trail tape, or toilet paper, we are hard, and take it hard, but we do need tea tree oil, you did not forget that did you, you know I hate ticks. Oh we do need candle stakes, for when the love makes.


Lets gather this gold and lurk into the 19
th Century!

MEGAN and ROSANNE covered their bodies with this gel, and TOPPER, Their daredevil-bee pheromone kits were very advanced kits enhancing their DNA to see & bee way into 18th Century, (reincarnation technology, and with their 21st Century high-tech phones they could still bee & see the surroundings in the 21st Century, and if needed to call the bees for protection. And off they went loacating the Gold of Jesses James.

SOUND SONG: 29 Laid Back – White Horse

Looked at his phone smiling

The Gold Seeker Drones are in place, and the snow is in control.


(2 scene here and ending deleted here for print)


(Speaking to the President of the United States of America and all World Leaders)

These are the times of the Paxsters. We are the brave ones to overthrow your power. Pharaoh’s dream and the American Dream are now the Paxsters Dreams. We are not your slaves. Greedy shellfish no love for humanity. The curse of our Maker be on you and your kind. You do not own all of the land and all the people. We have looked through the eyes of our historical subjects and understood them in the context of our own world. If God had intended us to vote, he would have given us candidates, although JFK was a slight good one, so all of this talk about change, a new government for a new century is hype type since 1968, Martin Luther King, as we, he had come to believe that our economic system was fundamentally unjust and needed radical transformation. “This madness must cease. And the evils of racism, economic exploitation, and militarism are all tied together.” Hey today, for years you all used your power by diverting the anger of citizens to groups without the resources to defend themselves. You are now being haunted by Numerous atrocities against Native Americans, the anti-Irish prejudices of the mid-nineteenth century; the continual violence against Chinese who had been brought in to work on the railroads; the hostility toward immigrants from eastern and southern Europe that led to the restrictive immigration laws and so on, so for now on, your asking is receiving as the Statue of Liberty: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” You asked, so you are receiving. Things are getting bright, because we remember Albright replied: “I think this is a very hard choice, but the price, we think the price is worth it.” A half million children have died as a result of sanctions against Iraq and so many others…. That is more children than died in Hiroshima. We stand for Children, war in our time is always a war against children. And if the children of other countries are to be granted an equal right to life with our own children, then we must use our extraordinary human ingenuity to find nonmilitary solutions for world problems, so we did. This is real peace time. The keys to fighter planes and battle ships are no more. So stand in line to nothingness as votes never counted before. The World Bank and the International Monetary Fund was just balanced by us, the Paxsters. We are not shadows, we are Humanity’s Light.

Wealthy influences and special interests have too much power in Washington, which is why banks have not been held to a higher level of accountability, until now. Alaska, we have un-stacked the deck, we have Alaska for the human-homeless of the U.S.A. We are showing you up and off, bailing out the homeless, and the under paid-over worked workers.

The game is over we are never going to be looked at as an evil empire no longer. The Russian Roulette, and Arms Race you play is over. You keep looking down, forgetting we all breathe the same air, we all cherish our children’s future, and we are all mortal when you should have been looking up at, the last 7 years at the big grandfather clock. There is no more time to crunch, we are the Paxster bunch. Power given to Poverty. Food, And water shelters vastly. Think the Million match into a worldwide Billion match is on and done. The Anger against the light is done, and the rotten parts of the apple has been cut away.

The rest will be available in print to promote Poets Writing for the Screen

Coming soon from Poetry Train Books/Films, Amazon.com and LuLu.com

ya ya the C inside the Circle John E. WordSlinger
(e-mosquito free inside the Poet Igloo)


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