Sweden today
What happened to Sweden throwing off her neutrality like it was an old overcoat and to make matters worse joining old NATO, that is a moribund military organization.
I remember Ingrid Bergman, a great actress when I see her, I wonder, why Ricky had
a nightclub in Casablanca
There were many famous Swedes, such as Alfred Nobel, and Ingmar Bergman, and not forget Birgitte Nielsen married to an actor named Rocky Stalone, a screen hero
I remember Malmo where I bought coffee cups
With flowers on, now this town is full of angry belligerent Islamists wanting to enforce Shari law and run around with big knives
Of course, there is the forever teenager Greta Thunberg who wears a permanent scowl when marching in protest against the EU or if not something else; one wishes, she would fall in love, have sex with a young man, and go back to school
Categories:
ingrid bergman, adventure, anger, baby,
Form: Blank verse
Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
And those old black and white movies
Some were cinematic disasters
But some you could call quite groovy
Even now, my heart skips a beat
When one appears on the late night screen
I choke up a bit seeing John Wayne
As he swaggers in and out of the scene
Today with its technology and trickery
We don't know if people are real
Or made up computer animation dudes
To me, it seems way too surreal
Take me back to the Spaghetti Westerns
The gangster films of Cagney and Bogart
The Three Stooges, Abbott and Costello
Loved them all, that was cinematic art
The stunning sensuality of Ingrid Bergman
The glamour of a young Elizabeth Taylor
The bombshell beauty of Marilyn Monroe
Bardot, Betty Grable and more
The newsreels, the cartoons, the travelogues
And the giant blockbusters of the time
Sure was a lot for twenty-five cents
Plus popcorn and a drink for a dime
Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
Great musicals like “Singing In The Rain”
“An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly
Sure wish I could go back there again
Categories:
ingrid bergman, memory,
Form: Rhyme
The New Yorker said Casablanca was “pretty tolerable”
No one expected it to do great things.
It was surprising when it won Best Picture of 1942.
Eighty-one years old, and it is now iconic.
My husband has a six foot poster of it in his office.
He watches it six to ten times a year.
I remind him that Bogart had to stand on a couple of blocks.
Ingrid Bergman was over two inches taller than he was.
Paul Henreid aka Victor Laszlo called Bogart a mediocre actor.
Bogart called Paul a “prissy prima donna”.
“Here’s looking at you kid” is attributed to Bogart.
He said it to Bergman when he taught her poker in between takes.
Categories:
ingrid bergman, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
And those old black and white movies
Some were cinematic disasters
But some you could call quite groovy
Even now, my heart skips a beat
When one appears on the late night screen
I choke up a bit seeing John Wayne
As he swaggers in and out of the scene
Today with its technology and trickery
We don't know if people are real
Or made up computer animation dudes
To me, it seems way too surreal
Take me back to the Spaghetti Westerns
The gangster films of Cagney and Bogart
The newsreel of the day plus a cartoon
Loved them all, that was cinematic art
The stunning sensuality of Ingrid Bergman
The glamour of a young Liz Taylor
The bombshell beauty of Marilyn Monroe
Bardot, Betty Grable and more
The newsreels, the cartoons, the travelogues
The giant blockbusters of the time
Sure was a lot for twenty-five cents
Plus popcorn and a drink for a dime
Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
Great musicals like “Singing In The Rain”
“An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly
Sure wish I could go back there again
Categories:
ingrid bergman, fun,
Form: Rhyme
We ran deep into the woods
from the other side of the wire
an enemy came with me.
Stripping our uniforms bare
we hid in the river
A mouthful of oxygen from an enemy's lung
And in an embrace ,
We floated in the liquid sky
Above us the fire flowered
With its thousand tongues
raving in riot.
We ran deeper and in the night we made a fire huddled around it
I sang a song
I don't think he understood a word
He liked it though
I can tell .
Deep in the woods
The enemy slept peacefully
as I kept guard
The fire weakened
I let it wane
And in a dim light
The movie started
In the forest ,
By the lake
I watched for hours
Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman dance.
Deep in the woods,
We were all in Casablanca
(...
the fundamental things apply
As time goes by...)
Categories:
ingrid bergman, courage, friend, friendship, humanity,
Form: Free verse
Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
And those old black and white movies
Some were cinematic disasters
But some you could call quite groovy
Even now, my heart skips a beat
When one appears on the late night screen
I choke up a bit seeing John Wayne
As he swaggers in and out of the scene
Today with its technology and trickery
We don't know if people are real
Or made up computer animation dudes
To me, it seems way too surreal
Take me back to the Spaghetti Westerns
The gangster films of Cagney and Bogart
The Three Stooges, Abbott and Costello
Loved them all, that was cinematic art
The stunning sensuality of Ingrid Bergman
The glamour of a young Liz Taylor
The bombshell beauty of Marilyn Monroe
Bardot, Betty Grable and more
The newsreels, the cartoons, the travelogues
And the giant blockbusters of the time
Sure was a lot for twenty-five cents
Plus popcorn and a drink for a dime
Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
Great musicals like “Singing In The Rain”
“An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly
Sure wish I could go back there again
© Jack Ellison 2014
Categories:
ingrid bergman, film, , western,
Form: Quatrain
Compared expressions of you as
nothing ever will
Treaded outskirts of atmosphere
Intense of culminated proportion
Chameleon Ingrid Bergman stares
beget faceted hours in brood
Pining a slice of affection
Reside my precious jones’s retinas
Pupils behold, widened as oceans
Mere sight share butterflies
Glides acrobatic feats
Discreet rituals where sensibilities
spill precious savory elixir in opus
Faint cries mustered from guttural core
Wrung out where there lies everything
but nothing more, lover…
My heart do reciprocate
Categories:
ingrid bergman, love, passion,
Form: Free verse