Easter Egg Hunting a Poem

easter eggs hunting poem
Remember the Easter eggs?
Remember running
and hunting them,
finding them,
remember the taste?
and your favorite color?
Remember finding them
under a leaf or
behind a tree
where they were
carefully hidden
lovingly hidden,
and you ran
oh you ran
and you laughed
oh how you laughed
Remember you had the bag?
or a basket?
There was always a bag
or basket,
at Christmas,
and we were
always running
with our bag
and laughing
and our laughter
was the best
music of
our times.

david michael jackson

The Twitch Poem

I walked into the
room and James
was there and we were
both twitching,

same eye,

INTRAC it was called,
some name they made up,

we had t-shirts,
there was golf,
there were picnics,
there were banners,

James and I can be seen
in the pics,

you can’t see the twitch.
but the eyes do look blurry,

it started at the cheek
and went to the eye,
this twitch,
it showed up especially
after the speeches,

there was a team
there was a coach,

he didn’t have the ball,

we had the ball.

James twitched,
I twitched,
we worked,
we made it work.

One night at eleven
we were there,
the team,
the ball,

He came roaring
out of his office,

James and I looked up,

Where is the list I gave you people?
Is this the best you can do?
I have people.
They want to know our level of confidence.
Is it really eighty percent
and how can we get to

You can see him
in the picnic photo
with his thumbs up

……………..david michael jackson

Not Sitting Shiva A Poem by Joan Pond


AJ was whiter than I remembered, and his lips were taut.
I reached over to fix a lock of his hair,
then stopped.
Egad! I’d almost touched a corpse.
I sat beside him, smelling Bubby’s brisket and potato kugel,
thinking of her applesauce and lemon cake.
Then, suddenly,
I started to shake inside.
I should be ashamed,
only thinking of myself.
But AJ always liked food, the gathering of family, and close friends.
This was a time to make amends,
to bury the hatchet, along with the dead.
And as Bubby came from the kitchen with a platter of chicken liver and bow ties,
I swear
I thought I saw AJ smile.

Astatine poem by Janet Kuypers


Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#085, At)
(with references to the poem “Fantastic Car Crash”, 7/3/98)

Everything shatters with you, you know.
I am left picking up the pieces
after dealing with only fractional amounts of you.

I’ve only been able to infer what you’re like
by knowing your brethren, as everyone around me
and all the gapers gawk, as the decay grows.

In your twisted way, you come from the decay
of others… And what do you leave in your wake?
More radioactive destruction, as all around you

slows down to stare, until your instability
corrodes you down to the basics in the world.
And yeah, what was left of you after you were gone

was so much more stable that you were,
but it was only after so much of your destruction
that you left blood dripping down to the street.

So, all I can think is that this continual decay
is your contribution, this radioactive
short-term flash of decay, is you.

I’ve tried to learn, I’ve tried to study these
microscopic parts of you to make sense of you…
But whether or not you ever leave enough,

well, from what you’ve shown me, I have to keep
reminding myself that despite your destruction,
despte this decay of yours, I have to keep going.

Because, when it comes to you,
when it comes to what you do…
This happens all the time.

Magnesium poem by Janet Kuypers

Magnesium (#012, Mg)

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series

All this time,
I’ve only known you from afar.

Every once in a while,
I’d see you in the distance
while I was driving down the street.

I may have seen you
only eleven times in my life,
and I know a part of you
is essential in all of my living cells,
but as I said,
I’ve only seen you from afar.

Once, I saw you
outside my bedroom window
after the first snowfall
covered the land in a blanket of white.
That’s when I saw you
walking outside alone,
looking for your next meal.

I know you can leave
me with a sour taste,
but I know you are needed
and it aches me to see you suffer so.

I think I saw you with your children
as I sat out on the balcony
of a father’s house —
I watched you in the distance,
but I didn’t watch you alone.
After a while
someone said to me
that you looked peaceful,
but at another time
they would have shot
and killed you instead.

As I said,
I only see you from afar,
so I try to learn
of how you were created
from such large places,
at temperatures higher
than anything we could imagine.

I tried to learn,
because one day
I was told to go outside,
and that’s when I saw you
laying down among the trees,
never to walk away
from my home again.

I’ve always only
seen you from afar,
and suddenly,
as you lay there,
I could see your organs
shriveled and sunken in
after your skin
had pulled away
as you wasted away.
I could see traces
from your capillaries,
and I could trace
your rib cage,
outline your spine.

I know the heat that created you.
I know you’re highly flammable,
and I know that when you start to burn
you’re impossible to stop.
You fire bombed
in World War Two,
and the only way
they could stop you
was by dumping dry sand on you,
because you’d burn through the air,
and you’d even burn under water.

That’s why you’ve been used
in fireworks and in flares.
That’s why you’ve been used
for illumination and flashes
in photography.

So they call this
momento mori,
I thought,
when I grabbed my camera
to photograph you
in your final resting place.
even though
I’ve seen you,
I’ve needed you, and
I’ve known the damage
you can do,
I needed to photograph you
right then and there.
I’m sorry.
I needed to
remember you this way.

Different War But the Whores Never Change.Poem.SageSweetwater

Different War But the Whores Never Change


Sweetwater staying true to the original characters in The Biker Chronicles. Try adapting an audio recording to film when you went into the recording studio some twenty years ago when Sweetwater did! Things have changed! Much! Different wars but the whores never change! My dilemma on a particular character named the Vision Jammer has prompted me to cast three different men for the role incorporating three generations. Sixty-five is the common age for living Viet Nam veterans, some well into their seventies and eighties, many of the older Viet Nam vets have passed on. So today’s Viet Nam vets are from the 60-ish group, the Viet Nam war ending in 1975, 38 years ago. So, what we have is an older character cast for the Vision Jammer and Country Music Star Toby Keith cast as Jammer Jr. in his forties, staying close with Keith’s age, and a young Jammer Jr. casting an 18-year old man. The film script will be finished at the end of the month on to film! Interesting adaptation! —Sage Sweetwater, original recording artist of The Biker Chronicles adapted to film by Sage Sweetwater.


Different War But the Whores Never Change


viet nam
delivers a
heavy kick the
weight of the shrapnel
imbedded in his right leg
in nam the vision jammer existed
from self-teachings on the power of
fantasy and illusion bats flew circles
above the vision jammer as he rode the
moonlit asphalt hard and fast


it kept
him alive
and delivered
him home safe but
not sound no vet ever
came home sound


war fragment reminiscence collectively
floated on top of what was
left of gray matter


visions of
a night-wandering
seductress danced nude
on a black-and-white tiled
checkerboard floor as shiny
as the gold hoops piercing her


he throttled
down and the shovelhead
ceased the euphoric thunder
the nicotine tasted sweeter than
pralines but when the vision jammer
drank whiskey all things tasted sweeter
especially the flesh of a hot woman


his war-stained
hands pulled the
red baron’s over his
inflamed eyes and he
snugged the stars and stripes
bandana around his scarred forehead
not about to lose a piece of America again


the asphalt
and moon turned red
castle whores motioned
to him from outside castle


unmistakable obscenities
echoed throughout whoreland
their soliciting voices sounded
relentless like the voice of his
platoon sergeant john darrius kalitzy
jd for short


a thumbs up
sign was all he
cared to offer out
of appreciation to their
bribe of white powder he
politely eased the throttle
and watched the moon reflect on
their red mirrors


the snow lines
dissipated into
their racy bloodstreams
he smiled and took his left
hand off the grip plugging a
nostril as if he were indulging
with these perfumed whore babies
and to his surprise one tossed down
a vial of snow and shouted from the
powder slopes above “One for the road!”


the vision jammer
didn’t do powder but
then again he didn’t do
war until it was assigned
to him


he thought
cocaine paralleled
with war just different
lines were used to fight the

Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, Celebrity firebrand lesbian novelist


Sage Sweetwater


Sage Sweetwater is the name of Colorado Firebrand Lesbian Novelist, Poet, Storyteller, Screenwriter and Business Artist. She has several High-Budget feature films, no less than fifteen in Pre-production, some near filming. Her Jett Durango Trilogy, three spaghetti western style feature films will usher in her film career. Sage has written poetry for many years, showcasing her work on Authors Den since 2005, and funneling in her readers to Authors Den from social media venues such as Twitter and Facebook. Her vast writing and film portfolio can be seen on Authors Den. Sage’s writing career has spanned nearly twenty five years when she first began to write and publish, then in the last three years has adapted her novels to film and wrote other screenplays from the ground up now in Pre-production. She has solid Hollywood investors who are financing her various films and she has good producer representation managing her career. Sweetwater and The Sundance Wives also have a multitude of spin-off products in the works from Sweetwater’s various films.

Sara Russell, former editor and founder of Poetry Life & Times did the first PL&T interview with Sage back in the year 2006. Robin Ouzman Hislop took over PL&T from Sara and he did a second PL&T interview with Sage in the following year of 2007. A lot has changed in Sage Sweetwater’s writing and film career since then. Filmmaking requires long time frames—years, if you will. Sweetwater thanks both Sara and Robin for taking her in and introducing her around in the poetry literary scene via Poetry Life & Times, just a wonderful poetry family.