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Sage Sweetwater

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Sage Sweetwater extends a Newsletter Invitation to her friends and fans. Only available exclusively on Authors Den.
Newsletter Dated: 9/17/2007 11:14:53 PM

Subject: Sage Sweetwater's Poems Written For Her Western Novel For Movie Soundtrack

From the desk of Sage Sweetwater, this month's newsletter reveals the poems Sage Sweetwater has written exclusively for a movie soundtrack for Sage Sweetwater's novel-to-movie adaptation FROM THE CONVENT TO THE RAWHIDE: THE SAGA OF SADIE CADE AND VI MONTANA should it become a movie. Sage Sweetwater is exclusive with her poem-to-song transcribed by Composer/Songwriter Finnur Bjarki, owner of Porterhouse.

(1) Winter Foal of Shivers Gulch
(2) Wildhorses
(3) Ballad of the Highway Girl
(4) John Ringo That Damn Fool

This poem (1) Winter Foal of Shivers Gulch was written intentionally for a song for a movie soundtrack should Sage Sweetwater's novel From the Convent to the Rawhide: The Saga of Sadie Cade and Vi Montana become a movie...when I posted it on Authors Den quite some time ago, I used a female offspring for Winter Foal of Shivers Gulch for the purpose of a feminist slant-an equine metaphor for my personal life. The original poem is a male offspring that is the wild mustang of a wild herd of seven that Vi Montana and Sadie Cade happen upon in a spiritual setting in a boxed canyon and claim them. The scene is very dramatic and cinematic. Rawhide!

Winter Foal of
Shivers Gulch wasn't
born from a mare that
carried him for eleven
months and cast him on
the twelfth, his black
velvet coat was born from
the magic of a snowflake,
"leave him, he'll never
hear thunder, but he'll
cause it alright, he'll
incite an avalanche and
bring the whole damn herd

they left him
to freeze, never
looked back, hell,
seldom that such a
winter foal lives,
his eartips gone from

he learned how
to survive and cope
in a harsh environment
which constantly howls
hostility in every Shivers
wind, he uses intuition,
without a mare's suckle,
Winter Foal of Shivers Gulch
nourished himself from the
liquid of a snowflake, learned
how to cleave a haybale with
his sharp mind, he sees with
his inner eye, he heard them
say "we don't want him, he'll
never make it,"

how a single
snowflake could
produce such a
resilient, diverse
foal, he is truly
encyclopedic in scope,
in the media splashed
in fame from mane to tail,
the firebrand has found
another one just like her,
a rare breed, she introduces
Winter Foal of Shivers Gulch...

All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater,
firebrand lesbian novelist

This poem (2) Wildhorses was written with a specific scene in the novel where Mercedes Cade leaves the Pish Convent as her time is up, and Violet Mace-Reese stays on at the convent to finish her 18 months. This poem would be the turning point of where these two characters names change to Sadie Cade and Vi Montana. It would be a song where Sadie is longing for Vi while Sadie is thinking about her after she has relocated to New Mexico and bought a ranch and an original farmhouse she is refurbishing...and at the same time...a camera scene flashing back with Violet Mace-Reese at the Convent.

Put our saddles
in storage side
by side, polish
the dust off our
day ride, by the
look in your eyes,
I take it you've
fallen for me hard.

Caught in the
stirrup, from
the kiss, we
can't look back,
all written in
horsehair ink,
walk away with
braided memories,
free-reigning lust
loped the sagebrush

Rented me for
a day, I threw
in the wildhorses
for free.

Women have come
and gone, bought
dreams here with
me for the day,
bunked for the night,
cried for a month.
What is it about women,
wildhorses, and

All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater,
firebrand lesbian novelist

This poem (3) Ballad of the Highway Girl was written for the character of Andy Sue, a Harley-Davidson woman who rides her Harley across the asphalt to find her ex-lover Violet Mace-Reese. This is a highly emotional poem for chronicles land-locked fences and locked gates that were once holding me back in life...

She drives in
the dark all
about it bein'
time to get it

She sits crumpled
up against the fence
in the day, thinkin'
it's time to burn out
the fence line demons
and pray,

Her role in life's
drama complete,
she feels the boundaries
of tormented heat,

To all of the women
that have been in her
life, she wishes to say
something more than
thank you.

The images in her mind
are text vignettes that
the memories have been
selected by her work
done over the years.

She guesses the images
in her life's collection
are a recollection to what
she was really doing out
there most of the time.

She once knew a wizened
older, much older woman
who told about older times,
when the country and women
were more open and happy,
with fewer fences and gates
to slow a woman down.

She thinks that there
seems to be gates in our
lives that some will
never be able to open,
but her, she has a place
that is special, of course,
others see that place

Her images can
never be taken
away from her.
You see, she loves
deeply enough, there
is a part of it within
her to the end.

This is how she feels
about this place she
calls Highway. She'll
drive down the road for
awhile and think about
where she's been and
where she's going.
That's why this
song exists.

All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater,
firebrand lesbian novelist

This poem (4) John Ringo You Damn Fool, I wrote most recently. It has a religion-Devil-may-care-attitude and is right for the scene at the pulpit in the Church of Pish where elderly Sister Pish has her Mad Scene in Lucifer, aka bout with Alzheimer's...

Sunday morning
coming down, nothing
short of dying, I tipped
my hat and helped Sister
step down from her mule,
"John Ringo, that damn fool,"
Sister waved her Bible,

"after all, good history
is based in the books,"
Sister waved her Bible,
"interpretation is how one
wants to take it," Sister
waved her Bible,

"outlaw John Ringo,
that damn fool, no
where to go but God's
cemetery, "John Ringo,
you damn fool, Sister
on her mule prays for
you, trigger pulled,
Old West lawless heroes
ruled. Come on inside,
firebrand, I'll preach
a sermon, then we'll have
a shot of whiskey, Westward
the Women!"

your horse was 300
feet away from the
church doors and 300
feet away from those
soiled doves-the whores,
saloon, brothel, and church
all three tied to the same
hitching rack, I walked inside
with Sister escorting me on her
arm, reciting what she'd known on
John Ringo's tombstone,

the sermon Sister
gave "Westward the
Women, Firebrand who
Writes Outlaw Books,
I play cards with her
'til dawn, drink several
shots of the Lord's
prescription for inspiration
to quill my Sunday Morning
Coming Down Sermons, fellow
by the name of Kristofferson
will marry *Rita Coolidge, will
write this tune next century,
Cash and Willie too, one man
dressed in black, one man in
braids, Folsom Prison and pot

you rode into town
on your buckboard
to close out your
account, pick up your
lavender calico dress,
confess, you had it on
layaway, God loves this
day, pussy allegations
went unnoticed, the focus
was on some damn fool
rebranding mules, some
damn fool cheatin' on the
poker table, wasn't a
30-second gunfight, was
a 30-minute fuck behind
the livery stable...

kissed the new label
inside your new lavender
calico dress...


All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2007 Ms. Sage Sweetwater,
firebrand lesbian novelist

Until next time dear readers, find you a stack of Louis L'Amour westerns, open the lid on a tin of saddle soap for aroma, and read the Western lines...Jubal Sackett, Mustang Man...I love you all!

~~~~Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist~~~~

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