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2014 Pushcart Prize nominee. (more)

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The Passing of a Friend - What is a Life?


I'm stepping out from the usual post this week as the father of a dear friend passed away after a brief illness. I have known him for 30 years. I felt as though I should write something. I have passed it onto the family.




Once Around

24/4/2010
For Johnny


The Grass seedlings emerge through the Dirt
Tiny. And Fragile.
And at risk.
Watered and with the light of the Sun
Soon finding strength
And blanketing the Earth
In its resplendent Green Glory.

The Caterpillar Crawls in Search
And the Finch Opens its Beak for More
And the Infant waves its hands
Trying in Vain to Clasp the Rattle.

In Time, all will be Reached.
And all will be explored.
And all will be Mastered.

And the Foundations take place
And the World comes alive around us
And if we are lucky
Love will come
As will the ability to learn
And discover,
Who we are.

Until the Time Arrives
To Supplant this Knowledge
This Experience of Life
Onto the Next
And to Watch with Joy and Amazement
At the same Quirks,
And Foibles,
And Struggles
That were once Experienced.

And the Sun Sinks Lower in the Day
And the Flora closes its petals for the Night
And some wither altogether
Having witnessed many such days
Unable to go through another cycle.
For small cycles must eventually close
While the Greater One goes on
Endlessly.

And while we are only able to engage for a brief time
For our time is short
We are grateful for having contributed to the Journey
For having taken Part
In the delight
Of this thing called Life.












Greatest Written Films of All Time - Sunset Boulevard plus a flash fiction


Success is a lousy teacher. It seduces smart people into thinking they can't lose.
- Bill Gates


Flash Fiction


A.T.M.
(All That Money...)
or
(Alluring Theft Magnet)




I'm walking past the service station. My bank's ATM is in there. I don't really need money. But I suppose it will save me worrying about it later. Other banks are now charging people to use their ATM's. As if they don't make enough money.

Money. I know its a cliché that it's evil. But is it necessary? When are we going to get a better system? We surely don't need cash anymore. There's something dirty about it. It's been through a thousand fingers. Who knows where they've been?

I walk through the auto double doors. It's quiet. Must be a lull. I walk up and slide my card in. I've got so much work to do. And I have to get it out of the way if I want to catch up with my friend later. Work... work to earn. Earn to live. Live to work. It just goes on. And on...



Something prods my spine. Ouch.

'Give me the money.'

I want to turn.

'Don't look. Give it or I'll stick ya.'

'Shit. Is this serious? Okay. I will but what's that? How do I know it's not just a pen or something?'

'Shut the fuck up and gimme it.'

'Okay, I will. Please just be calm, but listen... I'm not pulling out any money till I have proof.' I turn.

'Fuckhead.'

'Okay, that's definitely a...'

I spin and karate chop and limbs blur and the blade clatters to the floor. He's a young punk with sunglasses. I'm sure beneath them his eyes are beaming. Crimson on high. Now he doesn't know what to do.

I pull a karate stance. 'Get moving or I'll mess you up!' Overcome, he drops to the floor unconscious.

I smile. Foiled him. Little shit. He's as bad as those bankers. Steal you blind, while your back is turned.

But somehow, the world flips. He rises and I lower, like a see-saw. I'm the one on the floor. And he's pumping the ATM. I had already entered the code. I'm sure he's pulling out the daily maximum.
I want to get up but my energy is seeping into the floor. Draining out. And my back feels cold. And wet. I reach out to his ankle but he steps over my hand and sprints away.

… I wonder what he'll do with my money....?



end



Written after watching a disturbing story about teens who hang around ATM's to rob people and the banks that charge us for the privilege.





Greatest Written Films of All Time


Sunset Boulevard (1950)



Sunset Boulevard could just as easily be called the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. It is the story of a has been Hollywood starlet whose career, which once flourished, is over. Unfortunately, she can't come to terms with it. Her time is up. She has aged and her beauty has faded. Her desire for things past is so strong that she still lives there; at the risk of her sanity.





There are brilliant performances from Erich von Stroheim, William Holden and of course, Gloria Swanson in the lead, (in a art imitating life role) under Billy Wilder's expert direction. Wilder co-wrote the screenplay with Charles Brackett, a renowned screenwriter and D.M. Marshman Jr. The script was nominated for a Golden Globe and won the Oscar.

There are some great quotes such as: There's nothing tragic about being fifty. Not unless you're trying to be twenty-five. And of course the immortal, All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.

It is a tale of the cruel nature of Hollywood and the real price for our dreams. They can elevate us to great places, but they can destroy in the process. It also contains a lot of black humor. It is a film that has survived well beyond its period, despite the many injokes and sideswipes to the Hollywood types of the day. In this age of celebrity, it has never been more poignant.






Previous Posts:
The Last Picture Show (1971)
Dead Poets Society (1989)


More Greatest Written Films
More Stories

https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books




Coming Soon

A change of pace with The Cow and the Sow
and we've all worked with someone like this in A Workplace Glasshouse.


Until Then,

R.I.P. x 2 - The End of Greatness


I am stepping out of my usual Writing and Film mode briefly to honor the lives of two great Artists who passed away in recent weeks.


Malcolm McLaren

















       Malcolm McLaren was a manager and producer who steered the Sex Pistols to fame in the late 70's and went on to have a successful solo career himself utilizing different genres such as reggae and electronic music. I have included two examples from those early to mid 80's releases, both of which were big hits. He also managed Adam and the Ants, who were also mega stars in the day. He continued to influence music, fashion and art over four decades.
Stealing things is a glorious occupation, particularly in the art world.
He was 64.





Alex Chilton

















       Alex Chilton was a singer songwriter best known as the lead singer in early seventies band Big Star. As a 16 year old, in the Box Tops, he had an international number one hit with The Letter. Big Star recorded three albums in the early seventies, but never found the success they deserved. On fame he said, It's been like a bad dream I never woke from.

Yet their work was much lauded amongst their peers and word spread, resulting in their early nineties revival (minus Chris Bell who died in a car accident in 1978). The new line-up continued to play live up until 2010, propped by the cult success of various re-releases and compilations. Rolling Stone wrote that Big Star "achieved its power-pop perfection when no one else was looking." Chilton also released many solo recordings in the quieter years. On songwriting he said, If it's not an expression of how a person genuinely feels, then it's not a good song done with any conviction.
He died suddenly of a heart attack, three days before they were to perform. The concert became a tribute. He was 59.



Greatest Written Films of All Time - Dead Poets Society




https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books


Flash Fiction

The Unlucky Fountain






He sat on the bench, unmoved all night, surrounded by the cold and his guilt. The suburb slowly came to life around him. He looked like the statue in the mall's fountain, posed, chin cupped in his hands, replaying the event, as though by dissecting, it could be altered. Yet, no matter how recent, it was sealed in time like stone.

Sarah. Screaming and struggling.

Earlier had been the nightly couch ritual. TV and cigarettes.

Face under the tap, anguish, blurred by the running stream.

He had always been good to her. On this night, he was especially caring. He rose to make her a cup of tea, despite it being her usual chore.
She barely took the first sip before it started. The accusations. His late evenings at work and mysterious text messages.

Not tonight Sarah. Please. I'm too tired.

Of course, this only egged her on. Her belief was solid.

Just wanted her to stop, for one lousy night. Was that too much to ask?

Gurgling. Spluttering.

Now will you shut up!

He gazed up.

The statue had come to life. People were moving about, milling about in their morning ritual, but this time, he was not amongst them. He detected their glances, as though they knew. He must be a sight. He should leave. Someone would find Sarah soon. He couldn't deal with all of that. Far too tired, like a suitcase of concrete. The train station was nearby. He had already decided. It was an old fashioned way to end things; a ballet dance from the platform, but it would do.

He stood, joints grating and plodded toward the fountain. He would eye his reflection one last time, say goodbye to himself and subconsciously, make a final appeasement to Fate for Intervention.

Sarah, still in his ears, pleading.

A car screeches at the pedestrian crossing. He turns. Trips. Plunges. Head smacks onto the fountain edge and he topples in. The blood diluted by the water. Eyes staring wide beneath the surface. Consciousness fading.

As his stringy blood begins to obscure his vision, he spot something at the bottom. Glistening.

A dollar coin.
Lucky.


end

I wrote this after seeing such a man one morning completely lost in thought by a fountain. I wondered what he was thinking.







Greatest Written Films of All Time

Script over Spectacle.


Dead Poets Society (1989)






"O Captain, my Captain." How famous these words. In the rush for the latest remake, how easily the great films are forgotten. That is part of the reason for this series; to honour the work of great scriptwriters and novelists. Ethan Hawke and Robin Williams star in one of their best films by acclaimed Australian director Peter Weir, in his third US film.

Not only are the young cast in this boarding school drama encouraged to celebrate art and poetry by their teacher Mr Keating (Williams) whose unorthodox methods rub many the wrong way in more conservative times, but he instructs them to seize the day, take hold of life and enjoy the passion of youth while they can. Wise words from scriptwriter Tom Schulman in his best work, deserving the Academy Award. A real pleasure. Carpe Diem.



"To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived."





Previous Post:

The Last Picture Show (1971)


https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books



Coming Soon:

Flash Fictions:
You'll get more than you bargained for at the ATM.
And we can all relate to A Workplace Glass House.

Also new Poetry and more in the series on Greatest Written Films.



Until then,



















Greatest Written Films - The Last Picture Show plus a poem on Pompeii






Town is Pompeii


The 4th Style Frescoe Upon the Wall
Do Stand Tall and Proud
To the Owners Delight
Of His Hercules
In the Hunt.
He is the Symbol of Strength
Respresent the People.
And for Venus
On the Opposing Atrium Wall
To Deliver Beauty
and The Wonder of the Gods
To Them All.

Is it Any Wonder
They Wonder
What They Have done Wrong
In '62.
When the Earth Shakes Their Walls Down
And Turns Children from their Beds
The Gods Displaced and Displeased.
Their Homes Crack'd.
Much Is to be Discussed
and Done.

In these Uncertain Times
All Imperfections and Great Sense
Will Matter Not
In Fifteen Years Hence.

As the Currents swirl beneath their feet
Crimson and Uncaring.
In Preparation.


end


















I wrote this the night after visiting Pompeii in Sept. 09. It's small but fresh. The Poem, not the site. It's majestic. And quite sad.

















https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

Greatest Written Films of All Time


The Last Picture Show (1971)




       A group of young people come to terms with their small dying town and their lack of prospects. It was directed by Peter Bogdonavich (Paper Moon) with an ensemble cast including a young Jeff Bridges and Cybill Sheppard. Cloris Leachman and Ben Johnson won Academy awards for best supporting actors. It was based on the novel by Larry McMurty, who also wrote the screenplay and would later co write the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain. Wonderfully rich and real characters in a desolate setting with beautiful dialogue. There's an ethereal quality to it too, like ghosts reflecting on the way things were. Shot in delicious black and white.



Coming Soon,

More Poetry
Short stories.
Love meets Death in The Unlucky Fountain.
And you get more than you bargained for at the ATM.

Also more in the Series on Greatest Written Films.

Happy to hear your Feedback and suggestions.

Until then.
Ciao.

Poem: 'A Ode to Them' & Quirky Video



"If you're waiting for the Perfect Time, there is no time more Perfect,
than Now."
ajl


An Ode To Them

The Land of the Beautiful People
The City that Sparkles
The Shine that Blinds
To what's Important
Yet it doesn't matter
You Look Good
You're One Hell of a Find
You're More than Accepted
They want to be near You
They want to be like You
They want to be You.
You don't have to do a Thing
Other than think of what to wear
Adorn yourself with Bling.

You don't have to be Polite
You don't have to Share
You don't have to be compassionate
You only have to remember
To fix your hair.
You're free to be Selfish
You're free to be Vain
You're desperate to be seen in the Right Places
Beaming White Teeth
Next to all the Right Faces.




The Glory is Great
But the Cash is better
A Snapshot, A Newspaper Spread
But where's the contracted Letter?
Here this Hour
Gone the Next
Another Ten to take your place
Prepare to Fall
Guess you're not so special after all.

end



I was going to tell you what inspired me to write this ditty today, but I live in Sydney. Do I really need to say more?


I won't make a habit of posting videos like this, but it's nice to mix it up and keeps it the vein of this post. Nothing too deep. I didn't actually know they could do this. I was quite amazed.



It made me laugh and that's always a good thing.

Coming Soon...

Artists, Musicians & Writers, Famous after Death: (Posts 1 - ?)
So You want to be a Writer? (Posts 1 - ?)
The Best Written Films of the Past 70 years: (Posts 1- ?)

I will drop these in periodically as I will be continuing to mix it up with Poems, Stories, Reviews and Videos.
The amount of Posts on these subjects depends on the level of Feedback I get.
And I'm always happy to hear what you think.
Till then.