It is a classic movie destined to be,
unless we all end up enslaved by a government as portrayed in the movie,
then it will be censored most certainly,
making it a crime to possess, never again to be seen.
Its main character is referred to simply as V,
a vaudevillian veteran,
cast vicariously as both victim and villain.
Seen as a terrorist by the government,
seen as a figure of hope to the general population,
seen by me as a powerful message, basically very simple.
"People should not be afraid of their governments,
governments should be afraid of their people."
V For Vendetta in my opinion,
is a movie worth watching for everyone,
even children,
despite the movie's mature R rating,
but I'll let you responsible parents make that decision.
Categories:
vaudevillian, film, self,
Form: Rhyme
"Who am I?
Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask,
but on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of my dramatis persona.
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran,
cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate.
This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished.
However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
LOL,.. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very good honor to meet you, and you may call me V."
.. from the movie, V For Vendetta
Categories:
vaudevillian, film,
Form: Free verse
Boxed lures lay: belly-up, forlorn, caste off sinkers,
line-less, relics of peaceful bygone days. In vaudevillian
colors of corny-orange: their hooks rusty, their prongs
dulled in an unalluring huddle; the bait lies unused
their drawers lowered like fathers, they recall summer
days with their flies down fondly. The boxed lures lay
belly-up forlorn, caste offs: boat-less, rod-less reminders
upon rickety tables, these tabled reveries of mist and sun
conjoin in conjugal tension. Soon sold to gen-millennial
to: decorate walls, ghost grandparents, mind-meld the screen
dancers to the much missed external world. Where the
fish-belly white daughters and sons could sun with fathers
disconnected from the umbilical cord of the Protestant
work ethic. Box baited: belly-up, forlorn, these caste off sinkers
line-less amble past the detritus of peaceful bygone days
when seas and lakes and ponds provided food for the soul.
Published in the April 2015 issue of Eunoia Review
Categories:
vaudevillian, beauty, family,
Form: Free verse