Dark Delectable Delicious Destructive - Poems for Goths, Gangsters and Other Mysterious Souls: 20 Years of Nick Armbrister's Dark Poems by Nick Armbrister

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25750552-dark-delectable-delicious-destructive---poems-for-goths-gangsters-and-o

This anthology brings together Nick's darker poems in his 20 years of writing. There are many moods, topics, styles and poems here. Each tells a story. It's up to you, the reader, to judge the work here. The human condition is one of thoughts and emotions. How many of us have been hurt, depressed or angry in our own existence?

BIG WHEELED THINGS

BIG WHEELED THINGS

Life taking lorry careering down the road, out of control. Rage driven rig smashing over the cyclist, dead as a bug. Terror maiming truck killing vulnerable pedestrians, cry for mercy. Huge monstrous wagon crushing little cars, splattering the occupants. Crazy speeding artic jumping a red light, rushing to take a risk. Big massive HGV racing along the pavement, doing the devil’s work. 

overlooking metro manila from cloud 9 bar 360 at night

AEROPLANE POEMS 2                 BY NICK ARMBRISTER

Event

Now I know how wrong war in the world is and murder on our streets. It won’t ever change or stop.                                                                                                                     You see, it’s the way we are.                                                                                                                      Maybe it’ll stop on the next genetic step/human level in our development. Like with the so called grey aliens who are meant to have a collective mind.                                            

I bet they can make war, imagine an F-16 shooting at them with an AMRAAM missile lol. Bye bye F-16. War of the worlds motherfucker.                                                                                                                               Give me more beer...

Corrupted

Corrupted

There goes Trump

He’s corrupted by Putin

Sucking the Dog’s cock

After mutual masturbation

How good it feels

Like shafting the American people

As Putin shafts the Russians

Together both want to fuck us all

We are all fucked

Me? I’m off to the hills

A storm is coming

People 

What makes them do what they do?                                                                      Robbing banks thinking it’s a done job.                                                                            Smile fucker your on CCTV.                                                                                       Some have ten kids live on the social.                                                                             Got that life sussed.                                                                                                        Never known a days work in their life.                                                                                 But we are told we must tolerate them.                                                                          As Muslim immigrants blow up bus and tube trains,                                                                  our guys and gals fight muzzars where the Soviets failed.                                                 People... have gone mad.                                                                                                 What next? 

war war war

Now after watching my Xmas gift, I ask to go home. I hear no reply. Slowly it dawns on me, I can’t go home and there is no home. Just an irradiated world stuck in Xmas 1986, totally destroyed. What did I wish for? Am I dreaming a nightmare that I’m stuck in, did the veil fall after I looked inside drawing me in a prisoner?

I can say what a fuckin' rush, I don’t need drugs they’re for pussies I just need my Cold War music and my mind that is like a television. On and on the music plays as the Pershing 2 and Cruise Missiles launch as F-16s and other jets battle it out in the winter heavens as the countdown to the end begins. Who said the darkness wasn’t fun? Who did win in the end of the world? 

NO CRAP

“I’ll tell you about English women. They take no crap from anyone including people from across the pond, they are the warmest and kindest going but their trust has to be earned and cross them, you’d wish you were never born. In your case you’d be totally outclassed, they don’t go for bullshit! It takes a man like me to handle them,” I lectured the yank as I took a huge drink from the pint he bought me. His reply was quite candid considering what I said to him.

 

JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX COLLECTION BOOK 1 Paperback – February 2, 2015

https://www.amazon.com/JIMMY-BOOM-SEMTEX-COLLECTION-BOOK/dp/1326172441

Trash Overhead 

I live in the desert on my own little farm near the damn secret airbase where they do their testing. My grandpa saw your nuclear tests in the 50s shook our walls and gave him cancer.

I sued the government and got $36,000 a fortune back then. Re-vamped this old farm and met a girl who worked at the base, her car broke down on the road and she became my wife.

She had nightmares and I held her as she cried. My wife saw something in one of the labs late one lonely night while on duty. She wouldn’t tell me but I knew it was aliens from her incoherent shouts in the dark of night.

Then we saw the strange discs overhead, air force research I knew. Men in black came around and asked us to move but this is my land and farm. I buried my grandpa out back and lost my dad in Vietnam.

One day a disc was in distress and came down in the top field kicking up dust. My wife and I braved the violet flames to rescue the aircrew. We were there before the rescue choppers and saw a dead pilot he looked so young.

My wife entered the crippled disc through a breech in the hull and she saw her nightmares, what haunted her dreams. I followed her into the crippled ship and saw them – aliens. What was going on?

She mentioned the reactor and that she felt unwell, was it radiation? My wife collapsed to the floor and I bent down to help her, she told me to go or I would die so I fled outside.

The men in black were there waiting for me… 

Citadel 

I’m in the army of life in the war of life. I’m a single pagan warrior on my path of righteousness battling infidels of loneliness with my gothic talents. My pagan way is my only path, often dark due to having no one to journey with.                               

So many came along promising me a life beyond the stars. All they gave me was shades of dust. I say I’ll find someone else.

I do, many tattooed ladies who rock my world. Do I theirs? Stopping darkness when the night envelops me. Who I ask? There’s no justice just my solo path past years of despair.

Crap Night Job 

I was on the dole for a year plus when they gave me a job, a crap one on nights doing peace work. Get paid for what I did, I fell asleep on my first night. How boring!

Got fired on the spot. Back on the dole, what joy! Got a bollocking at the joke shop due to falling asleep, well you never listened to me would you, you cunts. I can’t sleep in the day.

So I do my poem for you, how crap you all are. Buy my book and read about yourself. I suppose you’ll give me a crap job on days moving boxes from A-B but I don’t give a fuck, it’ll pay for my vodka and tattoos.

And I’ll tell the lads of this poem for my crap night job and the cunts at the joke shop! 

nice and erotic on a leg fetish

Nalini Starr and Jimmy Boom Semtex

Those Legs (by Nalini Starr)
He has a leg fetish he cannot deny
Seeing those legs gives him a high
Those legs oh those beautiful legs
He loves them so much
And he is so tempted to touch
His eyes will roam from the toes to the hips
And he will drool and lick his lips
He will gaze at those thighs
With lust in his eyes
To caress them would be a wonderful prize
Staring at them his temperature will rise
The shape of those legs
And the way they move with such grace
Always bring a sly grin to his face
Those legs exposed in their sexy attire
Always awaken his burning desire
Encased in sexy stockings or not
They always touch his weak spot
Slim ones or thick ones, no matter
They always make his heart beat faster
Hairy ones, smooth ones short or long
He can't help loving everyone
A glimpse of what lies between those thighs
Makes his passion rise
And he feels a throbbing between his thighs
His imagination goes haywire
As he pictures them rising higher and higher
He lies on his bed
With images of legs in his head
Imagining how they would spread
And he will be thinking
How they would feel when they wrap around him
Pulling him in, tightening.



Thighs to Meet You
Oh what sexy legs
You darling sexy lovely news reader girl
A real gorgeous lady that I adore
From first seeing you on the news site
I watch your video where you cover the news
Going over the weeks developments
Trumpton’s wiretap claims and more crap
This doesn’t interest me one bit
And I can’t hear you as the volume is off
Yet you have my full attention
Why is that young lady?
Your legs my love
Your lush legs are my target
My eyes lock on and my hand moves south
I tickle my cock and feel the tingle
You’re a foot away from me on my screen
How I wish you were closer still
On top of my riding my cock
My hands on your gorgeous thighs
Some of which I can see
Under your gothic black dress
I want to lift up your dress and see them all
Feel your superbly smooth skin
See for myself the curve of your legs
Watch them as we make love like strangers
Imagine we’d just met and got right on down
Making love like it was pre-ordained
Your tight pussy gripping my dick
Like my hand squeezes those thighs
Belonging to you and thus affecting me so
My fetish dream come true is you
Riding my cock as I rub your legs
Oh what a dream dear news girl!
You feel so damn good while be buck
The rest is beyond a cliché and a real joy
Sadly all in my head with fake reality
But please know I do like your legs
Fact proven for my cock is hard
And I’m starting to cum!
The silent video scrolls on and on
My eyes never leave your legs
Except when I close my eyes and think of you
What you can do to me and me you
Anything and everything baby
Wrap your legs around me
Round my hips and my neck
I will fuck you and taste you
And that’s just the start my love
I want you up on your desk
Then in your boss’ office
Imagine the scene and his face!
Boom! I’ve cum oh what bliss
It feels so good my dear
To practice the art of masturbation
I dedicate this to you and your lush legs
You are my wet dream

Where’s Razzle?

Where’s Razzle?

Where’s Razzle?

In the bar drinking whiskey.

Where’s Razzle?

Having fun with the band.

Where’s Razzle?

Driving a cool sports car.

Where’s Razzle?

A member of Hanoi Rocks.

Where’s Razzle?

With a nice lady getting laid.

Where’s Razzle?

Playing a new drum kit.

Where’s Razzle?

Gigging with his band.

Where’s Razzle?

Listening to his song on college radio.

Where’s Razzle?

Drinking with Vince of Motley Crue.

Where’s Razzle?

In the car with his mate going fast.

Where’s Razzle?

In the ambulance going to ICU.

Where’s Razzle?

Dying in the hospital.

Where’s Razzle?

Razzle has died.

Where’s Razzle?

Razzle has gone forever

Where’s Razzle?

Razzle lives on in his music.

Where’s Razzle?

Living on in our hearts.

Spaceman

Spaceman
Hotness like a nuclear fire
burns inside me like a star.
I think of you, only you
all the damn time.
What did you do to me?
Cast a spell that I know
yet you deny and lie.
Or do you?
It feels so good
this thinking of you.
It should be forbidden
but it's not
because who is
left behind to stop me?
My hand moves down.
I play and think of you,
only you right now.
My arousal ascends abruptly.
Its as if you were here
doing what you do to me.
It was the same before,
it burns in my mind.
Terrible lustful images like a drug
making me want more.
No cold turkey had enough of that.
You singe my body
by your existance.
My cock twitches and I feel alive.
The way only you make me feel.
Beyond situation beyond control.
I scream your fucking name!
Ah hell this feels good.
Damn cliche true cliche
as my hand clasps tighter.
My big cock ready for you,
wanting you all the way.
Inside your tight pussy
at home and filling you.
My meat inside you baby
till we cum together.
Now I cum alone and it feels duality.
Fucking awesome I own the sky!
Hell hell hell I'm alone here dear!
But you're inside me like a demon
possessing me badly.
All that is bad is good, forbidden.
Oh I rise past the galaxy.
I'm almost there now.
Feels lush and right babe
me coming and you're there.
Watching helping licking biting.
Taking every drop of my spunk.
Making it your own as you did me.
As you belong to me.
Or did do babe.
A millennia ago.
Your memory lives on in me.
You make me cum and allow me to live.
We are two thousand light years apart.
And will never meet again.
Except in death.
For now dear please know this:
that I love you and want you.
I just came in my spacesuit.
Look dear, there's our star named after you...

rooley moor plane crashes for reference

oxford

http://www.aviationarchaeology.org.uk/aviation-archaeologist-magazine?srs=Series%20No.3&issue=12

mustang

http://laituk.org/P-5143-12419.htm

http://aircrashsites.co.uk/air-crash-sites-5/crash-site-of-usaaf-p51b-mustang-43-12419/

http://www.pressreader.com/

https://www.google.com.ph/maps/place/Rooley+Moor+Rd,+Rochdale+OL12+7DQ,+UK/@53.624774,-2.2065212,15z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x487bbc416362a085:0x579e9adb84aa386a!8m2!3d53.6532958!4d-2.2112848

Aeroplane Related Poems By Nick Armbrister link

https://www.amazon.com/Aeroplane-Related-Poems-Nick-Armbrister/dp/1445220458

This is Nick Armbrister's complete aviation based poetry collection bringing together poetry and prose from his previous books. His aircraft poems are on many types ranging from old biplanes to helicopters and fast modern jet fighters, flying and used in combat. The joy of flight is covered too in several dreamy lighthearted poems. Nick has been interested in all things that fly since he was a child and this continues today with his poetry and tattoos related to modern aircraft. His poetry covers many moods ranging from happy to questioning the futility of armed conflict in which many warplanes and weapons are used in anger. From Spitfire to Mirage, Nick captured them in words giving famous planes new life. Enjoy his new book and check out his other fiction covering all matters aviation based.

aeroplane poems

This is Nick Armbrister's complete aviation based poetry collection bringing together poetry and prose from his previous books. His aircraft poems are on many types ranging from old biplanes to helicopters and fast modern jet fighters, flying and used in combat. The joy of flight is covered too in several dreamy lighthearted poems. Nick has been interested in all things that fly since he was a child and this continues today with his poetry and tattoos related to modern aircraft. His poetry covers many moods ranging from happy to questioning the futility of armed conflict in which many warplanes and weapons are used in anger. From Spitfire to Mirage, Nick captured them in words giving famous planes new life. Enjoy his new book and check out his other fiction covering all matters aviation based.

Serenaya

Moving the picture to display the port wing and double power units showed more of the same, a bent wing, no longer upwards but slightly downwards. The huge airscrew had come adrift from the motor, to hang in the ice before it, blades bent back from a much earlier crash landing. Serenaya could only guess at what internal damage was like, to the fuel tanks, engines and wing spars. Quickly scrolling to the starboard wing showed less damage but nothing was left untouched. This wing had combat damage on the outer quarter, jagged metal bent upwards from several holes. Smiling to herself, Serenaya granted herself credit for managing to come this far. Next, the plane had to be raised from its icy tomb, transported to the secret research base and taken apart. New parts had to be made, measurements taken, tests done and improvements made using recent technology. Only then could any new planes start to be fabricated, a long and slow job. Moving back to the main menu, Serenaya took in additional information and after several minutes stopped to prepare her meal, a man-made substitute for rabbit stew, with a carton of hi-energy drink.

war in the sky

Opening his throttle and arcing down to build up speed, the leader was followed closely by his two wingmen, faithful as ever in open formation, not too close but near enough to cover one another in case of danger – a perfect attack formation. Each pilot armed his weapons, twin nose mounted 7.92 millimetre machine guns with a thousand rounds and two wing-mounted twenty millimetre cannon, one in each wing with sixty rounds of High Explosive shells. Lining up on an enemy each, the battle began, a deadly mêlée as the 109s knifed through the formation, not receiving a single return shot. The Tommie gunners must be asleep! In seconds the small fighters sped past, with surprise gone. Now the Germans could be as deadly as they pleased. Already one Englishman had been badly hit, for an engine burst into flame and black smoke coiled behind the Halifax like a ravenous snake. Slowly the hit plane dropped back, a quarter of its power gone with the dead engine. Two other bombers had been hit, with dead rear gunners; not a single bullet had been fired back. Turning again, the Messerschmitts attacked at full speed. This time the crippled plane was hit in the fuel tanks, fuel vapour streaming away like a fog.

NICK ARMBRISTER is back writing and doing a new book

BOOM! not JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX. no, NICK ARMBRISTER is back writing and doing a new book. JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER is back too. this time in poem form.

Juniper’s Daughter: Fookin' Weech

Nick Armbrister

will be out in late 2017... \m/

A NATION IN FLAMES NICK ARMBRISTER Short Stories WITH A GOTHIC, MILITARY & SF FLAVOUR

A NATION IN FLAMES

NICK ARMBRISTER

 Short Stories

WITH A GOTHIC, MILITARY & SF FLAVOUR

TORN ASUNDER

“Broken girl cast upon the ice, you are ready now to meet your end, an end to the cruel pain that consumes your heart destroying your love, yet you still love. You are in a paradox that destroys you even more. You scream to your God, Satan – he has left you also, so you’re now truly on your own.

“If he served you, wouldn’t he have your dead love? You have no answers, only silence and a huge immeasurable loss.

“So you go to the ice lake, you can do no more. If you could change things, what would you do? Bring him back, turn away from Satan? Live a normal life? None of that matters now, you are so lost, a mere speck of nothing but please be happy in one respect.

“You had him for a while and still love him so; he had loved you back and soon you’ll be together, forever. Your beautiful world has been torn apart by evil, Nazi and Satanic, in a battle of good and evil as old as time itself.

Nick Goth/Jimmy Boom Semtex YOALFAAZ profile/poems

Jimmy Boom Semtex is an alternative writer/poet/author from England. He's a bit left of centre in his writing and views. He writes adult erotica, varied poetry and other stories when in the mood.

http://www.yoalfaaz.com/user/Nick+Goth

HERE WE GO THE ANSWER I WAITED FOR. NO LONGER ON ITUNES.

HERE WE GO THE ANSWER I WAITED FOR. NO LONGER ON ITUNES.

SO I SAY FUCK ITUBES. ALL CORPORATE FUCKING WHORES. SO FUCK YOU LOL. I WILL NOT BE MUZZLED. EVER.

Hi Jimmy,

Thank you for your patience. I have reviewed your content with our distribution team and your eBooks are no longer eligible for iBookstore because some of them contain deemed explicit and inappropriate by Apple and they have rejected it. We are no longer able to submit any of your content to Apple.

I apologize for this inconvenience.

Kindest regards

Think

Do you want to renounce violence against other people on a personal scale and on an international level, where countries are bombed and shelled? This isn’t good, people are injured and die. Think what happens if I hit someone and kill him with one punch, this does happen. If a mortar falls and kills a dozen people in a busy market place.

What does it solve? Each person has a relative and a loved one who holds them dear. It’s so easy to throw a punch or pull a trigger and not even think about it. Hate erupts so easy, aggression growing like flames on lit petrol. Engulfing our lives, towns and countries.

Each year, a new war takes hold on a country. New murders on our streets, blighting the planet. Think how this affects our world of humankind. It’s not very good is it, violence against people perpetrated by others. Will education and tolerance stop all that is wrong, in the cities and nations of our precious world? 

Past Life

I remember my past life, when I worked in the motor trade as an apprentice when I fuckin’ hated it, being told what to do and finding my aptitude aint for that crap job. Next in the bakery, a decade there did my army time making cakes and putting cherries on them. There were some numpties and numb nuts there; I bet the fuckers think the same of me. How I got thru that time, wash your hands, put your hairnet over your ears, do this, do that! Had enough, quit my job and did things Nick’s way. My writing filtering thru, slow success giving me a goal to aim for. Yes, I know I can do it.