I dream of my computer systems. The programs I use at work whir and zip thru my brain as I sleep. Turning my synapses into circuits. Hard wiring me into the system. Am I being upgraded with new software? Part of the system to do my job while I sleep. So I'm part of a never ending 24 hour system. Online 247 taking orders and working away. An unending task to make my fat cat boss rich. Even in my dreams I process customer orders and watch the profits go up up up. I only see a penny of this in my minimum wage job. Thank my Pagan Goddess it's a dream. I'm gonna quit my job, trash my computer and live on a mountain...

My dreams are there but I can't remember them. They're fragmented like my life. In bits and pieces all in random order. A good job I can't remember them. How to make sense of this? Do I ignore it or try to work it out? Making sense when there is none. What would I think and feel if I could just put one dream in order? Would I be more complete or less? My head is a strange place at the best of times. Right now things are everywhere. Especially my dreams. Step into my head to see...

It was a stunning landscape and it was very different than the real landscape. There was more of it and the colours and form were stunning. It was how it REALLY should be but of course it wasn't. The area was near his hometown, a real ******* ******* town called Oldham. The most nasty evil place on the face of the planet. Was this dream vision a counter to the nastiness?

There was a valley far below between the hills. One side was the road, where he was now, the other side was a steep hill leading to the moors. In the valley was fields of golden crops. He imagined the crops swaying in the breeze. The distance was too far to confirm this.

He stood there by the wall, watching and taking it all in. It was nice. Time didn't matter and there was no future, just the present. The joy and beauty of this valley was memorable. A healing thing.

What of the valleys and hills further up the valley? Were they different and more colorful and of different form? Dovestones was superb anyhow. Maybe he should go there and check. After all he had all day...

O for Orange
They were just kids flying their Vickers Wellington bomber
Out from England to bomb The ***
That dastardly enemy who started this war
O for Orange coded machine crewed by our boys
Flying at first in daylight on recon and carrying leaflets
Then bombing **** warships as their civilians are innocent
Just like ours are and the Poles and others
Our Wellingtons being caught out over the water
They fought back well but lost at Heliogoland Bight
Licked into submission by lethal little Messerschmitt 109s
And their destroyer brother Messerschmitt 110s
Their cannons smashing our bombers into the water
And damaging many more which had no armour or protection
Other than rifle calibre machine guns which were close range killers
Just ask the few **** fighters that fell that day
The battle of Heligoland Bight ended the myth once and for all
The bomber will not always get thru by day
Ask the brave crew of O for Orange
Their Wellington bomber lies on the seabed
Along with their remains and legacy
Their loss was the first of many
Which brought along the total unconditional surrender
Of **** Germany ending the Thousand Year *****

Irate Woman
The woman was irate because she had received a Dear John letter
It stated that her husband's ship had vanished and he  was MIA
The military was looking for it but it was an active war zone

Any in-depth search would have to wait till the battle was won
By then it could be too late for her dear husband and his buddies
What was their fate?

Were they even now clinging to life rafts
Or were they at the bottom of the seabed eaten by fishes
The cost of the most bitter war in human history

A conflict bigger than Jesus and ignored by God
Heathen men fighting religious men all killing one another
With equal efficiency and lethality for their respective governments

One result of this was the irate American woman who was now crying
Sadness replaced her annoyance and anger
It dawned on her, the fact: I'LL NEVER SEE MY HUSBAND AGAIN

She became more than irate
Decades of tears started to fall
That letter changed things forever...

Cookie Lucky
There goes a cookie
I'm feeling lucky!
Observed the RAF aircrew
When the huge bomb blew
An explosive filled dustbin
Made of little more than tin
Killing more ****** Germans
The blame was all Herman's
Sending the Krauts to Hell
Sound of the final bell
Dead in their beds at night
What an awful Satanic fright
We gave them a real blitz
Enough to make the Nazis schitz
For here comes the RAF!
Who don't give an eff
About carpet bombing the ***
At the time of no sun
Lancaster bombers flying high
Destroying without a sigh
Taking the battle far away
Determination knows no sway
They started this this ruck
We'd win with skill and luck
English and Empire men of skill
Who'd defend their sacred hill

Defuse The Bombs
When the war was over there are many things left over
That never went bang and were there secretly hiding
The Germans defused them in many places
And were paid in food and reduced sentences

Some new types of British bomb had a tricky fuse
Hans lost two of his friends to these tricky things
The fuse diagrams were held up at the docks
Was this on purpose or simply bureaucratic bumbling?

From beach to hill to city nowhere was safe
Mortars and shells and bombs were everywhere
Just waiting to wake up and **** one or two or ten
Deadly seeds of mayhem born from carnage

Made in factories by old men and girls
To fight the biggest event in human history
Now it was over those evil creations needed to be cleared
Prisoners of War got the job and in return a lighter sentence

Only if they weren't proven party members Nazis members
Most were teenage soldiers who were green and scared
They cleared mines off Danish beaches and bombs in German cities

You'd think more didn't explode than did
A legacy that last to this day
The sad memory of war...

Items Before
There you see the item in front of you
What you ask is that?
It could be anything you want it to be
A car or a bike or bus or trike
Or a helicopter or plane or UFO
Let alone something smaller
For example a cup or brush or key
Does it matter what the object is?
As long as there is something there?
Each item is made and used by people
It could be you or me or another
Who made or used that item
That is right there before us

Biscuits
It will take time to adjust to this new reality
There will be good days and bad days on the way
Along with other pre-discerned times unmentionable
Where life will be Mad Max esque and totally lawless
What will I do at such times and what will life do to me?
Tea and biscuits with pals or robbing banks with sawn offs?
Or both...

Choice Made
This is what I don't like about my parents dying
The awful ******* grief that kills me inside
The knowing I won't see them again in this world
I will have to wait till I cross to the other side
How will I find myself for the rest of my life?
Wondering knowing feeling hating these emotions
And thoughts that have never ever been like this before
It almost feels like I just saw my parents die badly
But that of course is silly for I wasn't there at their end
I was 7000 miles away in the Japan living my life
With my wife of 4 years who I moved to join
Yes I am selfish for choosing her over them
But they were old and had lived their lives
I am still young with lots to do and live and more
Including feel like this which floors me like a shot
I made my choice and here I am...

Empty
In the nascent
empty vessels of time,
I hear your voice.

Martian Gothic (short)
Unique environment unique people.
Fifteen thousand metre mountain vertical south face.
Two pretty Goth girls stood on the edge.
One footstep fall to Martian plateau.
Three hundred metres ahead thirty metre layer of Cirrus cloud.
Terraforming worked brilliantly Earth like atmosphere.
Olympus Mons great holiday destination for East European adventurers.
Hanneke had waist length black hair,
Silge shoulder length red hair with lip piercings.
Both beautiful like the magnificent sci-fi film landscape.
Chance to hike,
enjoy stunning views after their Earth based Martian Geology course and field trip.

Martian Gothic
It was a unique environment.
They were unique people in a unique place.
A mountain fifteen thousand metres high with a vertical south face.
Two pretty Goth girls stood on the edge.
One footstep forward and it was a huge fall to the Martian plateau.
Three hundred metres in front of the girls was a fine layer of Cirrus cloud,
thirty metres thick.
The Terraforming had worked brilliantly providing a heavy Earth like atmosphere on Mars.
Olympus Mons was a great holiday destination for young East European adventurers like Hanneke and Silge.
Hanneke had waist length black hair and Silge shoulder length red hair with lip piercings.
Both were equally beautiful as the magnificent landscape straight out of a sci-fi film.
They were taking time out of their Earth based Martian Geology course after a short field trip.
A quick hike was a chance to chill out and take in the stunning views.

Dragon Lines
Shadow lines,
I strive to survive.
Pushing the dawn away,
chasing the dragon...

Cut and Dried. Bit and Stitched
Oh he still loves her. They married and were in love, still are, have kids and what they had. I won't say they had what all married couples had cos they didn't. She died, leaving him the widow.
Think of that fact, imagine it was you. How would you cope? What would you do?
Oh, he did things. He drank for a year, had dark ultimate sin thoughts, PTSD shell shock. Yes, it was a war and he suffered a defeat. It was his wife, lost in this world. Then he started writing a story, one he must finish. Or all is lost except memories.

Then something remarkable happened. Not his loss by his suicide. He met another, twin mirror image. What are the ******* chances of that? No ****** would dare take that bet. None.
She lost her boyfriend, a victim in the same war of stolen souls. His lady will understand, for she has been involved in a war and an equally forlorn a battle. I am shocked and try to understand. I wish him well and say remember her, do the book.
Me, alone.

Wet sodden grass just like my life.
Are you the stone or am I?
Death chains rattle, beer cans open.
I am doomed and embrace my darkness.
Enjoy my end.
All your actions carry consequences.
Do yours forsaking me?
Remember me and my end.

Pagan Hymn
Hand in hand we walk across                                                           ­                                   
Mother Nature’s land for we are all                                                              ­                  
Pagan brothers and sisters,                                                         ­                                         
lovers and friends.                                                         ­                                                             
We bare each other no malice and go forward                                                          ­              
with peace in our hearts and                                                              ­                
unconditional love in our hearts.

Idly thinking I wonder where we will be in the future,                                                      
will we ever reach the stars after the death of our own world,                                                
killed by pollution, war and overcrowding?                                                    ­                                  
Will we do as in Rome, on a new planet?
If we survive that far.                                        
Our path is tough.
Some actions we do are abysmal, look at how we treat one another.
We do need to learn to talk and not shoot first.                                                           ­       
Yet there is hope, when we look up at the cosmos over our heads,                                                    
we can only wonder at its size and our tiny existence,
we are not arrogant then.                                                            ­                                                                 ­     
Brought down to earth, we know we have a chance, just one to get it right.                                    
If god were to judge us, what would he think?                                                           ­   
Agree or disagree with the way we do things?

NICK – ODD ONE OUT
I’ve never fitted in, no matter how hard I tried,
so I stopped.
Became more alternative back in 1991.
Found my gothic way. Still looked at today, strange.
I don’t care, it’s me you are laughing at. Leave me alone,
go to a scally and stare at them. I’ll never be one of you,
never want to be.
Often you inflict pain on me.
What if I did it to you?
Another oddball Goth goes off on one.
Nearly 35, stick to what I know, try new stuff,
ready for new adventure.
Me an oddball on his own planet.

Just your words on paper, nothing much,
random thoughts of daily life.
What if this was the last letter on earth?
Worth the world then or in my possession
if I was stranded far away on the moon
would your words be my lifeline and save me?
Or prolong my agony, make my stay there my Hell?
A curse or a blessing in my hands now.

The man was a real hard man often described in lower class words
By those who feared or respected or envied him
He was from Scotland and fought the Chinese Communists in Cambodia
In a backwater of the world that became a Cold War hotspot
For next door was Vietnam and the commies there fought the other commies
In a war that enveloped the area destruction on destruction
War happened and soldiers were deployed by all sides
Some of those troops were rather special ones
To do a special job in a ***** war where the killing wasn't clean
The hard man from Scotland was sent to a place far form his Highland home
His bagpipes were silent and stealth was his tool
Stalking ****** fighters in the Cambodian jungle
And doing what needed to be done to stop them dead
So we don't speaking Chinese now
Just like the Dead Kennedy's song that hailed a generation
Camdodian events remembered which fewer care about
The Scottish soldier is dead now but his widow remembers
It was her who told me the story of her SpecFor husband
How he played his pipes and won awards not just in battle
Him a Seargent Major Drill Instructor Full Metal Jacket style
Driving his car with his arms crossed barking orders and being the boss
Living in America with his American wife and drinking in bars
But being taken advantage of by the rednecks
In the nasty bars that wern't British pubs
More dangerous than the communist controlled Cambodian jungle
The life of the special forces soldier was certainly special
If not hush hush we don't talk about this it never happened
Except in the heads of the SAS troopers who were in Cambodia...

Failed Pills
I took pills all my **** life to cure this and that
None of them ever ******* work
So I write about my ailments instead
The way only I can words on the page
Putting my ills into them to free me
Who am I blooody kidding eh?
Myself to give me some backbone
And MAN IT UP NICK!
But that doesn't change how I feel
Nor take way the illnesses that rest inside
Waiting to get me like a manman with a saw
I'd love to meet such a crazy
At least he could chop me up
Thus reducing my ailments by number
Till then I suffer the world of this
My reality not in pain but something else
The thing called life enduring sensation
A word to replace pain multiple blows
I feel them all and till I finally rest...

World Creation

The world wasn't built on fat laziness

But some people are so **** lazy MM

The world wasn't built on false hopes
But some people are fine liars

The world wasn't built on fake cash

But some people are excellent fraudsters

The world wasn't built on blood money

But some people are lethal gangsters

The world wasn't built on unwanted love

But some people are striving companionship

The world wasn't built on secret deals

But some people are blindly forgetting

The world wasn't built on false respect

But some people are double crossers

The world wasn't built on empty words

But some people are very gullible

The world wasn't built on forefather's guilt

But some people are short sighted

The world wasn't built on yellow gold

But some people are simply stupid

The world wasn't built on torrid affairs

But some people are emotionally damaged

The world wasn't built on loaded guns

But some people are always targetted

The world wasn't built on truthful principles

But some people are false gods
The world wasn't built on our wishes

But some people are always blind

The world wasn't built on our reality

But some people are born ******

garnets and emeralds
the pretty girl
puts on some blusher
from her compact case
on it is an image

just like her

a pre-raphaelite print
this girl scans the sky
her eyes always above
she watches the planes
go out and come back
for she counts them all

one by one

is her guy up there?
or is he missing?
she remembers him
and cares for his comrades
the girl who counts the planes
for she loves all the crew

not just pilots

as much as she loves her land
the girl who counts planes
how many failed to return?
there's a ring on her finger...

Widow Maker

In the mid 80s my dad took me to a plane crash in North Wales

It was a B-26 Marauder that hit a mountain

We climbed up to the area nearby

I froze when I saw our last climb

Up a seemingly vertical dry waterfall

There was only a bit of metal at the bottom

The rest was hundreds of feet above

We had to ascend a series of rock ledges

These were like steps and gave a way up

But my **** went and I said no!

My dad went mad shouting and pointing

It did no good my mind was made up

But looking back was it something telling me

Don't go up there or else?

I cannot say nor will I but I regret it

Not going up there to the crash

And seeing the Martin B-26 Marauder site

The Widow Maker plane lived up to its name

Killing the crew and wrecking the bomber

Decades later I think this:

I want to climb the dry falls and see it

The only plane wreck that beat me

I want to meet their ghosts...

Blasted Backfires

Digital beeping death tone

Radio net is up and running

Sailors die under enemy fire

Same with our soldiers

Souls harvested to heaven

Or taken down down below

Whatever the reason or cause

Digital death tone keeps beeping


Beep pause beep pause beep ...

Missiles flying up up high

Soon to arc down and hit

Guess nobody killed the archers


Before they launched their loads

Enemy arrows inbound!

Those enemy birds are lethal

Sink our carriers **** our grunts


Enemy Neo Soviet Backfires

Ready for bear and used by him

Yankee Eagle versus Ivan Bear

Digital death tone ongoing


Blips on the screen oh so quick!

Truck size antiship missiles

Gonna sink our ship!

Time to splash those Backfires


Bomb their base and escalate

We aint gonna lose this war

Till the Stars and Bars

Flies over the Kremlin


Digital death tone

Loud and clear

old soul

good you understand

not many do

some are judgemental

yes its possible

to have too much

of a good thing

living on a mountain than hikes

we are all old souls

some just dont realize

The roar of the **** automatic guns

That threw their exploding flak shells

Mixed with the shout of our engines

And bone dry rattle of our machine guns

Gave the French battle scene life

As we strafed and bombed our enemy

To give our troops more time

Our biplanes were made to fight the last war

Not a Blitzkreig but a target was a target

We went after the ******* all the way

Our six Hawker Hector biplanes still had teeth

Four yellow painted 125 pound bombs

And two small machine guns aimed by both crew

City of Manchester Squadron grabbing their chance

Aircrew of the Royal Air Force serving King and Country

In the darkest hour as the **** war machine came

Seemingly unstoppable and utterly invinsible

Except when the RAF biplanes attacked...

On Camera

My life is like a movie

Seeing that replica Mustang roll in and crash at the airshow

My life is like a movie
Witnessing an ex dealer who'd just been shot in his home

My life is like a movie

Viewing Oldham riots on TV that were five minutes away

My life is like a movie

Gazing down upon Manila Bay at the enduring sunrise from Bataan

My life is like a movie

Observing different people and cultures in a dozen countries

My life is like a movie

Glancing at my thigh as the tattooist inks my goth girl tattoo

My life is like a movie

Noticing the Mancunian drunks fighting on the nightbus home

My life is like a movie

Gaping in desolation at the coffin that contains my mum

My life is like a movie

Watching the mad Irish man loop the Grumman Duck in Murphy's Law

My life is like a movie

Admiring the **** girls I've nailed in the big bakery

My life is like a movie

Scrutinizing the Asians to see if they'll try to assault me


My life is like a movie
Eyeballing my soon to be ex friend who's kissing my girlfriend
My life is like a movie
Focusing on the road ahead as I illegally race the other car
My life is like a movie
Staring at the men lying by the kerb wondering are they dead?
My life is like a movie
Studying the vertical cliff above me to find a way up
My life is like a movie
Peering into the sky to find my dad's ghost that's up there
My life is like a movie
Scanning at my wage slip to see if my pay will cover my beer and bills
My life is like a movie
Regarding my mate who just vomited up his kebab and chips
My life is like a movie
Glimpsing the chavs fighting the teenage couple over the river
My life is like a movie
Right till my last breath and final vision when my Goddess takes me home

Death Cash
Life insurance death payout doesn’t make sense
Surely you’re meant to be a live to enjoy the payout?
But they only pay when you’re dead and buried
Something aint right there…

Uncle Sam
When will the company payout?
Just like Catch 22
All the benefits come after death
You sign on the line

And pay the cash
For the listed benefits
But you don’t see them
Not a single ******* one

They’re left to your loved ones
Don’t have a wife or kids?
Too bad then
Uncle Sam will claim your benefits

To enrich his war chest
And defeat the *** and the ****
And the Reds after that
The benefits are all his

Fake Believe

I walk these majestic corridors of the huge tower block

Skyscraper clawing down the sky into the earth

Thirty two floors above ground

And ten below where anything goes

Tell me, what’s down there?

Ornate toilets fit for a king

That I use three times a night

When I have a right big ****

And wash my armpits, tonsils and ******* on the bidet

Enjoying being tickled by the water

Then dry them on the air jet blower

Followed by a job off the toilet attendant

Male or female it doesn’t matter

Just close your eyes and tap twice

She/he/ladyboy will soon be there

Part of the joy of working in the city

Call centre vampires enjoying their work

We only come out at night

When I prowl the corridors of my structure

I’m the CEO of my own company

And own this building and all of you

In my murky make believe world

Of office tower block fake worldery

Lady ***
Born just like any other girl, life hardly started
when something happened.
It was the drug’s fault, some type of reaction stopped her
just after she started.
Try to imagine how she went through life
not being able to do what we all can do.
To talk to her computer.
By pure willpower and by logic she managed.
Gigs came along and brought new meaning,
new direction – Start, zoom up to now,
gig no13 – Autumn.
Coz she was different other pupils ignored her.
You want reasons?
Can’t swim, you have three feet and a crooked ear.
Brenda means “Suicide of Missiles” in alien.
She is my princess, my Special Alien.
Able to fly again at 16, she became like us all.
She could fly, backed up by logic and an organized mind.
We were brought together and we felt complete,
enjoying time together.
Shard my nuclear bomber and her laser.
What happened between us
never happened to any other WSO I knew.
She carries my nuclear missile.
Our summers are long and happy, fun filled.
All we need is each other and my plane.
This is for you when we bomb Red China.

Nailed Indeed

These things in my head

Oh how they torment me


Feel like I'm flying in a biplane

Made of rags and wood and wire

Trying to dodge weapons that will **** me


The Red China hypersonic glide bombs

Neo Soviet Satan 2 ICBMs

Solid state lasers

Exotic alloy rail guns


All this and more aims for me

To nail me and my small plane

If I dodge one the next is there

It's a matter of time before I fall

And in real life...


...the list is there

And it will bite me

My father ill in hospital

Then his ultimate end


My relationship ending

Due to my deeds

Whatever they maybe

My own war within myself

For paltry reasons


And other things

I'm not even aware of

All these will nail me

If only I had a plane...

Corrupt

The old woman says the system only works for certain people

She's right for the system really fricking *****

In the worst possible **** way

Some people waltz right on in there

And get what they want with no worries

Like thieves in broad daylight

Not giving a hoot about being caught

While those on the list are stuck in limbo

Caught up in a system that doesn't work

And never will for it was invented to fail

And be fricked and ***** people over

While the sneeky ones get away with ******

Ramming their hatchets in our backs

And grinning their grin knowing they've won

And we all failed coz the system is bust

Our ghosts just nod and move on

Waiting for their next corrupt life

Not even Groundhog Day was this bad

Satire

Why do I care for the dead more than the living?

Is it because the living are moody

Can double cross me

Always lie to me

Ruin my day in a thousand ways

Make unreasonable demands of me

Want all my time for their demands

And so much fricking more

I made the right choice

Prioritize the dead

And satirize the living

Who will all be dead in 100 years

Headstrong Tornado

I feel like I failed myself for not joining the Royal Air Force

I wanted to join for years ever since I was a kid

But my teenage moods got in the way

Like they did with most other things

And still do but I see them for what they are, moods

Which stopped me from being elite

And serving my country and deterring the enemy

Be it Soviet Russia or anyone else

Looking back I realise things were as bad as they were

My moods were a hurricane of what?

Teenage angst about not having a girl?

Pressure cooker emotions caused by my dominant mum?

Peer pressure rivalry to be normal and one of them?

Being bullied and having to fight for my existence?

Simply living and being me in my head and world

A world where I want to fly and dream of the sky

Like I have every day since I was born

The fact that it could of been different

Nick the Tornado F3 pilot intercepting Soviet Bear bombers

But my eyesight went bad and i never got full grades

So it was my unfulfilled dream up in the clouds

Yet it wasn't all doom and gloom

I did re-arm IX SquadronTornado planes with practise bombs

This was in 1986 at RAF Honington with Sgt Edwards

That made up for my career failure

Even if it was just for a day

In my memory that day never ends...

We Belong Here

Oh how we fly up away from the earth

A great nice happy feel good joyous rapture

Letting go of the ground's grip to ascend

Up into the blue blue blue where God lives

Along with Mother Nature and her elements

Nothing but beauty exists here in all ways

Ferocious to sublime to indifferent it's all here

Up where the angels live higher than cloud number nine

This is a special place where change is constant

Each moment leading to the next and next and next

Falling raindrops making a rainbow making a cloud

Chaos is here the Butterfly Effect hurricane flappy insect wings

Wrecking your town as you cower from nature's wrath

Yet when you fly in your little aeroplane she's fine

The wind thru the wires and sun on a lake oh how pretty!

The joy of flight and freedom of the skies all illusions

Greater than love and life and death and all things

Except the sky for here we belong and gasp in awe

The future is above us and we belong here here here

For this is our home...

Why do I feel like this?

Inside of me deep within.

A tempest of emotions and thoughts and feelings.

A real wind blown cliche.

Leaving me teary eyed.

Wpiping tears away when no one sees.

Thinking of my life.

How things could be different.

What I should've done different.

Or not done at all.

Oh the list is long.

As is my list of woes.

If I could redo it all, I would.

And be the person my mum wanted me to be.

And the person I wanted to be too.

But now it's far too late.
I must live with what's inside.

Deal with the choices I've made.

And accept me for me.

And those about me.

For who they really are.

I still push everyone away.

And make sure my walls are big and strong.

Just like I think YOU do.

I know I'm wrong, mostly.

But one time I was right.

Yet I never knew which time.

Forgive me or hate me.

It's up to you.

I am me.

And I am you.

Reasonsonal

You had to see it to believe it in the call centre

How you had to queue up twice in the lines

To hand in your bag and phone

Mard **** fcking security guards thinking they're God


Elevated to a lofty status beyond you and me

Who the fck do these twoddles think they are?

Donald **** Fcking Trump?

At least he's a really rich *******
The fake guards bellow and strut and act all important


'Put your cellphones, ifones, laptops, computers and TVs here!'

Another plastic guard joins the litany:

'And form a separate line and place your bags here!'


Well fck me six times with three hookers

I don't wanna queue up two f*cking times!

I wanna go home and drink my warm ****** English beer!


'You there! Don't put your gadget in your bag. You must queue up twice. You can't buck the system. We're smart and know all the tricks!'


Off to the back of the second flaming line

I will never ever queue up here again

Nor ever give the smarmy guards another chance to feel like God


Bossing me about and being **** wannabes

They're manning the desk in Reasons Call Centre and are all plonkers


***** their little mind games and rules

I'm resigning from my crap job to be a tank driver

Then I'll ****** show them who's boss...

Walk
We’re off for a walk tomorrow up the big hill at Dovestones. We said we’d do that walk for eight years. I’ll even wear my Lacuna Coil top that I was going to wear years before. Time stands still and I’m back in 04. Before our silly row and my move to London. Now I’m back north and we’re going to defeat the hills. Even though there’s snow on the ground, I saw it from town today when I met a friend for coffee. Be careful we don’t fall and break our legs or it’s an air ambulance job then and a chance to fly in a state of the art Eurocopter chopper. I’ll take my camera to take some cool photos of the snow and the hills.  Bring it on *****! Yomping up the huge ******* hill in the snow. Are we mad?

Motionless White
Numbers on a map.
No more.
So much ocean.
Men adrift at sea.
Only hope keeps them alive.
That and faith in God.
Old misplaced ways left behind.
New ways reborn.
The miracle happens.
Picked up by a trawler.
Too late for one.
Fine for five.
A miracle?
You, Jesus, tell me.
based on a shipwreck

Away From Them

I like to get away to the hills and mountains

For there I feel free and have no worries

There is no stress or crazy demands up there

Only localised dangers like getting lost or falling

These can be planned for and precautions taken

Unlike the bitter backstabing people in the cities

Not to mention the overpaid lazy bosses busting our *****

When out among nature I am part of it and belong

Not trapped in a concrete townscape and choking traffic fumes

I look up at the blue sky and marvel at the views

Miles and miles of nothing but greenery there before me

The pain of aching legs and sore feet is worh this

Being at the top of an 800 metre mountain

For a few hours of timeless freedom and smiles

This little moment is priceless...

CEO

Life in the tire factory is certainly interesting

For both the employer and employee

Each stabbing the other in the back

With lethal words and snidy actions

Who ****** who and who grassed who up

And other issues that are too stupid to believe

It all happens here at Smith's Tires

The bosses get fat from their slave workers toils

While the workers resent their masters

Having no choice to work long hours for low pay

A few plan revolution but are too scared to act

So they remain defiant but controlled

Each one of hundreds making car tires

A heavy and monotonous job

One step better than the dole

In a company whose profits are millions

With a CEO who flies a Learjet and drives a Hummer

He eats at the top restaurants

Stays in 6 Star hotels

And soon will be assassinated...

Twister

There is a storm in the City of Angels

The ****** was ******* off her client

When he uncermoniously farted

It was a real smelly one!

And caused a an awful storm

The ***** bit his ******* off...

rations

one expedition found a key

from one of our iron rations

this was real evidence

it showed we were there

why would a fly boy eat our chow?

they ate in hotels served by waiters

those were army iron rations

eaten by us in the trenches

but food aside

we had one thing in common

we all hated the ****

iron

we fought against the ****

but they won in the end

we went inland

away from the coast

do you see the mountain there?

we gotta climb that

up we went

we found a crashed american plane

and the pilot

we buried him by the wreck near a big tree
we found his wallet with a calling card

we were the last to see him for decades

his location became a mystery

so many looked for him and his plane

the lost american air ace

who defended bataan from the ****

over a dozen teams and expeditions

they found his nemesis first

the smashed *** plane and pilot

small nate was so high/huge cost is what it was then/lose death race crash fight

Metro Cats
The city is like the one Nostramadus saw
A modern metropolis where everything happens
Life death destruction creation
Around people who inhabit this place
And other locations like it globally

Ready for anything expecting it now
And it will in a massive way soon soon soon!
For we are being prepped for it

Expect the worst!
Get ready to die!
On and on and on!

Till we are used to terror plots
Desensitized to mass shootings
Not shocked by enemy air attacks
Unfazed by natural disasters
Even accepting alien invasion

All of this and more coming to a city near you
Knocking the buildings over and slaying the people
People like us who are totally ******
Just worthless pawns in the big game

A galactic **** piece chess board
A universal ******* of death

We are being shafted and told the end is nigh
The lucky ones will be removed in the Rapture
And some more will be Satan's slaves
As for the rest well...

We are all ****** nuclear quake tsunami burn style
When our cities fall

Tarac Ridge Warplane crashes February 8-10 2018 write up by Nick Armbrister



I have had an interest in aeroplanes and history ever since my dad got me into planes back in 1980. He took me up to air crashes on the Pennines/Peak District/Manchester/Yorkshire/Lancashire area of England in the early 80s. There are over fifty crashes alone here ranging from the war years and later. We also went to wrecks in the Lake District and Wales.

In 2014 in the Philippines I went to more wrecks. I Googled Bataan warplane crashes and found out about the LT Stone P-40 Warhawk and Sgt Kurosawa Ki-27 Nate dog fight and subsequent crashes. This read like something from a Battle or Warlord comic.

Over the coming weeks I put together an expedition there. I talked to Kevin Hamdorf who was one of the group who found the P-40 wreck. He gave me much info and introduced me to the guide, Noel. Without his help the trip wouldn’t have been possible.

We went to the crash area at Tarac Ridge on February 8-10 2018. This was the 76th anniversary of it. We went to the P-40 on Feb 9 and the Ki-27 on the 10th.

The crashes are over a kilometer up altitude wise. We had to hike many hours through the forest/jungle and mountain to the area. We camped at the lower campsite. There is an easier site at the top of the mountain near Kurosawa’s Nate which is less than a hundred feet below the area. Because we never camped there we had to ascend the final hour to the summit each day.

The Warhawk site of Stone is hundreds of feet below Kurosawa’s in the forest on the mountain side. Little remains today but bits of alloy, Perspex, glass and other small fragments. We found these. Lt Stone is still listed as MIA Missing In Action. One of our group, Mike, searches for MIAs. We took hundreds of photos of the area and of our search.

I ventured up to the Nate site of Sgt Kurosawa on the last day of our three day stay. It was at the summit. We had to go through thick brush/jungle to the location. Kurosawa hit a rock face and his plane was fragmented. The engine used to be there but has since been removed. There is less at this site than at Stone’s P-40. We found bits of metal, Perspex and bits. Looking at the closeness to the summit, I realized that Kurosawa almost made it.

Nobody but God and the pilots know who shot down whom and who was on the other’s tail that day. The result is the same: two warplanes wrecked and two pilots dead. Maybe more answers will be found on future expeditions. It was a great experience to go there to Tarac Ridge, Mariveles, Bataan. In time I hope to return. This was my first international warplane trip. I want to go to a Grumman F-6F Hellcat at Capas next.