Sage Sweetwater Nearing of Completing the Jett Durango Trilogy (article) by Sage Sweetwater on AuthorsDen

It must be said that the poetry of Celebrity Firebrand Sage Sweetwater is said to have sparked a revolution from one of her first defending poems on Authors Den, Creation of a Dime Novelist: Preachers See My Moccasin Eyelets and the highly commercial Hollywood follow-up poem The Powder River Hymnals rumored to have more truth than fiction in Sweetwater's personal life which inspired her to take Religion to the big screen. With nearing of completing the Jett Durango Trilogy with the third installment feature film, 'Jett Durango: My Heroes Have Always Been Outlaws,' it must be said that the poetry of Celebrity Firebrand Sage Sweetwater is said to have sparked a revolution from one of her first defending poems on Authors Den, Creation of a Dime Novelist: Preachers See My Moccasin Eyelets and the highly commercial Hollywood follow-up poem The Powder River Hymnals rumored to have more truth than fiction in Sweetwater's personal life which inspired her to take Religion to the big screen. Sweetwater's stories are diverse with interesting characters who bring to life religion on the big screen, religion complying to her standards, not the other way around. Creation of a Dime Novelist: Preachers See My Moccasin Eyelets and The Powder River Hymnals are the two powerful Hollywood poems in Sweetwater's published book, Night of the Foal: The New Riders of the Purple Sage which Sage adapted to screen bringing the Jett Durango Trilogy to a powerful finale filming in Durango, Colorado with Director Wendy Crouse DreamReal Pictures and Eddy Fitzgerald Executive Producer DreamReal Pictures with three feature films setting the course for the Jett Durango TV Series. I want to thank everyone involved in the production of my films. You make it happen. Thank you. Creation of a Dime Novelist: Preachers See My Moccasin Eyelets silver inlaid zodiac skirts on your stirrups pour fire to your desire, saddled upon the wind, firebrand's breath slips under your black cape, passion brands your hot-scalding flesh, reins soaked in your hands, firebrand's sledgehammer blows against the metal, spike bar pries out a rail from the track, stop the train, get the Colt revolvers, disguised as preachers, preachers see my moccasin eyelets from the windows, brand me as an outlaw of God, wheels lock, grind and squeal, metal sparks explode, dancing in the air like witch's fireflies, creation of a dime novelist, flames glow from the firebox, branding the land with the Devil's coals, firebrand saves the Bibles, pulls them out with a grappling hook that dallies from the rope on your saddle horn, collection plate "railroad money" burned, strongboxes melted, preachers charred keys at the end of the line, with the second-ago selective memory, like the train leaping from the track, you leap from your saddle, we fuck, slamming to earth, grinding deep trenches into the soil, screaming passion one of the boldest ambushes of religious lies we have been called upon to chronicle, no bodies, no twisted metal, no blood of Christ deceivers, telegraph repairman found only an empty whiskey bottle and your black cape hanging from a telegraph cross, they sniffed the pussy fire, the haunting sound of an organ played in the erotic air, the newspaper reported it as only the boldest lesbian tryst hot enough to stop a train, saddled upon the wind, firebrand's breath slips under your black cape... I... Copyright 2007 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist The Powder River Hymnals I ride for the Powder River Hymnals from Wyoming to Montana, the Land of the Big Sky, the prairie preachers put up the Devil's Rope, barbed-wire so the firebrand's stories don't leak ink, the presses roll, stopped off to look at my curvy reflection in Crazy Woman Creek, tributary of Powder River, I stare down the prairie preachers without batting an eye, vital hunting ground to the Lakota, I wage war against encroachments on lesbian territory; site of Red Cloud's successful 1866 war against encroachments on Lakota territory by miners heading into Montana, thundering revenge, hail fire and brimstone conformity, prairie preachers put up the Devil's Rope, barbed-wire so the firebrand's stories don't leak ink, the presses roll, the dust fogs, longhorn cattle trailed by the drovers, at Donkey Creek Junction, I saw a beautiful sight, a woman riding *hell bent for leather, I rode clit-hard to catch up with her, my pussy on fire, I followed the erotic smell of her mane of hair, wind-tossed foreplay in the excited air, she was the last good woman to walk through the church doors, the preacher pulled the rope on the church bell, I stared down the prairie preacher without batting an eye, struck the sulphur on the match, "God knows I ride for the Powder River Hymnals - may you see the Light" - the prairie preachers put up the Devil's Rope, barbed-wire so the firebrand's stories don't leak ink, the presses roll, he shut the white double doors, I could smell her hair from the back pew send me a message, I sent her a message back, Out I ride for the Powder River Hymnals, I rode through the Panther Mountains where good man legend DeVault's romantic voice echoed up to timberline, my spurs fucked the wind I rode wild, cut through the brushy draws on Forbidden Mountain where I fucked the last good woman to walk through the church doors, wanted dead or alive, the timber lords, preachers, Bible aficionados,and lesbians, not all that is conflict and controversy withers the lavender meadows...ride for the Powder River Hymnals, prairie preachers put up the Devil's Rope, barbed-wire so the firebrand's stories don't leak ink, the presses roll... I... Copyright 2007 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
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