By Phone

By Phone
I get so damn horny
When I hear her voice
Her the lovely lady
Who's on the phone
Her sultry tones
Hide so much
And betray it all
Oh I do wanna bed her!
Her the voice on my phone
Telling me the number
Is disconnected!

GIRLS, GUITARS, GATLING GUNS Jimmy Boom Semtex

Round River

The river is blue, the sky is brown, the land is red and the people gray.

It's all back to front! Am I colour blind or is a new reality here?

There are no instructions only my wits.

Blame my cousin or the Devil for this hiccup.

The Old World was better and values simpler.

Nobody ripping you off or kidnapping you.

Corporate whores were a million years off.

Now, life only advances at its stopped rate.

There's no going back to our collective past.

Be strong brother and survive this melee.

We must transcend the linear and close the circle.

Painter

Painter

When it comes to art

There is no sacrifice

Not worth it.

You see,

It's mesmerizing.

The beauty and cost...

Jimmy Guard

Jimmy Guard

Jimmy is proud

Why you ask?

He's part of something

It's important and rare

The Old Guard...

Beware you kids...

3

3rd Poem

This is for you

Dear human being

Cos we don't like

One another not one bit

Read and enjoy

You forgetful cad.

8th Son Jimmy Boom Semtex and other writers/poets/authors

Orlov Battle Group

We are the Neo Soviet hooligans

We patiently wait for the World Cup

For in 2018 we will be ready

Yes there will be trouble

For when the English hooligans arrive

We will fight them

Hooligan to hooligan

They taught us how to hooliganise

We improved upon it

With paramilitary training

And Martial Arts skills

Backed up by military tactics

Let them come

We are ready

For Mother Russia!

8th Son Version 2.0 Jimmy Boom Semtex and other writers/poets/authors

8th Son Version 2.0

Jimmy Boom Semtex and other writers/poets/authors

Most Dangerous Place in the World
My home town is the most lethal place in the world
Voted the worst place to live in England and Wales in 2016
A place where bad things happen
Jimmy has seen an Asian drug dealer shot dead
Jimmy has been attacked by an Asian street gang
Jimmy has been called a bastard by a white chav
Jimmy has been threatened by a psychotic chav
Jimmy has seen stolen cars on fire
Jimmy has seen varied drug dealers deal
Jimmy has seen police raids
Jimmy has seen race riots

Five?

Five?

England falls again

Five incidents of bloodshed

Over as many months

Spring and summer becoming winter

Three terrorist attacks by Muslims

Two involved cars and bridges

Knives were also a part in one

Another Muslim Extremist used a bomb

And White Van Man got even

Not to mention the tower block fire

It was an accident faulty fridge style

Wasn’t it?

Warming Boom By Saurabh Pant

http://www.lulu.com/shop/saurabh-pant/warming-boom/ebook/product-23227395.html

This new poetry collection by Indian poet Saurabh Pant is a vivid piece of work. His writing covers natural disasters, the exploitation of the planet, human greed, the lack of respect for Mother Nature and much more.

Priya Verma again provides the cartoons in this superb ebook. The topics concern each and every one of us. Why? We all live on Planet Earth and each disaster or problem touches lives. The message here is a positive one but the poetry is dark. As world leaders build new cities, more is needed. Will thy listen? Together we must care for our world, it's the only one we have got...

we

WE

Your incredible response fills me with light.

Sunshine of the heavens frozen in time,

tears of the Goddess of this sacred land.

Of the earth, the sky, the ocean and of Mother Nature.

My girl part foreign, part of here, now in my life.

Take me for who I am as I do you,

value you what we have and set out on this journey with me.

By my side even when we’re apart, you captured

my spirit like only you can. Now I stare

to a thousand yards, see you arrive back in my embrace.

Be one with me, show me the depths of your being,

teach me what you know. Reassure me

when I need love, let our magic flow

between us so we are alone no more.

words

WRITER

I am a writer waiting for his break

on the dole again with little money

from the government, who I voted for back in 97,

they don’t mean nothing to me now.

What can I do? Swallow my pride

and do my low skilled job on national

minimum wage and be one of the grey people?

I don’t want much, just to write for a living

and use my writing spark to keep the wolf

from my door. My pride is low now, my talent

not recognised by my enemies in power.

So for them I don’t care and do this poem,

go to the grave for my cause.

Usual Goth poet seeking work,

take a chance if you dare.

I have and gave up my job to follow my dream.

So many people have let me down, lied to me

and broken my trust. I’ve gone as far as I can now

but I don’t care, I say fuck you all

and do my poems.

LANDSCAPE OF TEARS

LANDSCAPE OF TEARS

I sense that you are near me,

close enough to touch, right now.

In my mind.

No one else can see you next to me

but I do. As we are now,

we once were in reality

at some time in our history.

Your spirit never leaves me

and your ghost forever haunts me,

your love is my saviour intertwining

me in your spiders web of hearsay.

Where are you now?

Did they ever love?

If they did, was it right, just?

Questions don’t matter to me,

none of their biased views either.

I possess you, you me.

I make my plans to be with you,

count my pills, sharpen my razor.

Soon now…

Wow! Tattoo My Butt Part 2 - Where Do You Think We All Will Be Tomorrow? By Nick Armbrister.

Global Party

Party time with foreign diplomats.                                                                                     

We all drink beer, lots and lots of dirty beer.                                                                                 

I provide two thousand bottles that all need drinking.                                                       

Stolen off a lorry; make the evidence disappear!                                                                         

My diplomat mates get on down, drinking their fill.                                                                                

Mr Bootros Bootros Bootros Bootros Bootros Bootros Bootros Bootros Bootros Gali

drinks sixty five bottles of beer.                                                                                           

He's so fucking merry and dances with a young Chinese hooker.                                                  

I get on down and sing a song, SING ME THE SONG OF THE BOOYAKA MAN!                     

I see Moosa Koosa partying on with a Thai ladyboy.                                                         

I can't write what they did!                                                                                                         

But Mr Koosa does love English beer.                                                                                          

A dozen other worldwide politicians are here,                                                                                         

I can't say their names or I'm fucked 9mm style in my head.                                                                      

One loves his sex with a Miss Louis-Whiskey.                                                                    

Never mind the homosexual diplomats drinking my beer.                                                    

Think I'll have a look see and try out this man on man gig.                                                   

It's only a party so hey, party on and drink my beer.                                                         

The Argie and Aussie leaders look fit.                                                                                                                                                                                             

They seductively lick their bottles.                                                                                                                                                                                 

Gives me an idea!                                                                                                                

Double blow job after gay sex!!!                                                                                         

Twenty five thousand more bottles remain unused and on tap.                                                   

Georgian hookers and diplomats are soon to be friends.                                                               

On and on my party whirls.

Elleswyth the Warrior Nick Armbrister and P.J. Reed

Elleswyth awoke. The bed was empty. Cernunnos had gone. Then she felt the earth breath in and recoil. An electric current ran through her body. Her eyes widened in fear as she scoured through the darkness. A heavy beating sound got louder and louder through the blackness. She put her hands over her ears to try to block out the sound but it boomed and roared until it drowned out all her thoughts. The mother had arrived.

Elleswyth stood up. She was ready for what was to come. She was under no illusions of what or who Gaiana was or what her skills were. She was a real bitch. Well, two could play at that. Hers was only an earth based power, the warrior Goddess witch's was both earth and alien based. Thus giving her a big edge. But was it enough? Cernunnos had fled, coward that he was. No worry. She would face his evil mother alone. Elleswyth readied herself. With a glare that could melt stone, she sent a hatred spell at the mother.

 

PJ Reed Anna story review by Nick Armbrister

PJ Reed Anna story review by Nick Armbrister

Join Anna, a single parent struggling to bring up her kids while holding down a minimum wage night shift job in a store. We find Anna working her shift and looking forward to going home. She day dreams of dating a nice man in a suit, like the well dressed customer who calls in. He's actually an agent checking upon her well being. Is there more to Anna than we can actually see?  She wants such a man. Not a dealer or pimp but a caring man. Her anxiety at work and on leaving is real. Her neighbourhood is trashy, with derelict buildings, young teen thugs in masks, deprivation and not much else but hope.

We feel like we're walking home with Anna. We experience one teen thug rob her at knife point, causing her more anxiety when he steals her kids' chocolate bars; we experience her anxiety like it was our own; we feel out of place normality when the drug dealer/growers house and family is described, at how their daughter plays normally in the street; we see body parts on a fence; and two people, the masked teen and an old woman, sat still on a couch, dead? Anna is linked to this. But why? What did she do? Who is she?

It's Halloween and it plays with Anna's head. For good reason. The drug growing family end up in body bags. And the cops take Anna and her kids away. Why? Safety or arrest? Her anxiety and past reliance on meds are a big issue. If she loses it tonight, she can lose her kids. Answers are needed. Will we get them? This is a scene set in a town near you. Reminds me of Oldham.

Paper Targets

Paper Targets

You shoot at people as if they were paper targets

Not caring who you kill, maim or injure

Your outrage has been well planned

Not a single bit went wrong

You serviced your guns

Collected hundreds of bullets

Dressed the part in boots, fatigues and body armour

Then made your way down the main street

Calmly walking with guns in hand

Carefully aiming and firing at random targets

One round here, another there

Aiming at chests, necks, heads, legs

But reveling when you shot them in the back

Are you fucking crazy?

What the fuck made you do this?

A red letter from the leccy company?

Your girlfriend ditching you?

Your dog pissing on your leg?

Nothing justifies your actions

Not even an act of war

For those people you shot were innocent

Not some enemy Russian soldiers on the battlefield

You gunned down a dozen plus lives

Selfishly cutting them short with total disregard

Injuring ten more to varying degrees

I guess your shooting wasn’t so accurate

Or did you maim them on purpose?

Only you know why you did this?

Bringing war to a quiet urban street

Where they’re more used to arguing pensioners

And drunken chavs fighting at weekend

In the space of five minutes you changed everything

Putting this small town on the map

For all the wrong reasons

Including your cowardly suicide

Tell me, did you have any regrets?

Before you swallowed the barrel and blew your head off?

You’re nothing but a fucking coward

With a collection of illegal guns…

Progress

Progress

Die raghead mother fucker die!

That’s what happened to Daesh

They were all eradicated

Swiftly and serenely by force

Culled with ultimate force

No more Daesh ragheads

Our world was blight free…

Broken Turtles by Jimmy Boom Semtex

"Urgh!" screamed the girl pilot. Sea water poured from her mouth with lots of vomit. Jelma moved back and was almost sick herself. Chen sat the wounded girl up and moved the hair from her eyes. Her eyes were a deep iridescent green. Absolutely beautiful.

"Oh my..." Jelma said. There were tears in her eyes.

The girl saw Chen and gripped his arm with her remaining hand. Her body shook in pain and shock. Then she smiled. Chen ran his free hand through her hair. She was very beautiful, more so than Jelma. Almost angelic. An angel of death who was dying, after killing. Ultimate price bullshit.

"What's your name? Do you speak English, Japanese or Chinese? We saw you fight. It was crazy, unbelievable. Where are you from?"

Juniper’s Daughter: Fookin' Weech By Nick Armbrister

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/junipers-daughter-fookin-weech/ebook/product-23202812.html

Juniper's Daughter is a character made up by Nick Armbrister. She is a witch. Her main role is fighting evil and the Devil. Join her in a variety of situations and conflicts described in these cutting edge poems. They are multi emotional from satire, serious, sad and left of centre. Subjects include a lamppost that works for the Devil, erotic sex at work, invading a country for its alleged resources and much more. Juniper's Daughter is always busy for evil is everywhere. Corrupting the weak and killing in war. Our world needs the witch now... We Came We came from very far away to see your planet We wanted to meet you and see how you were We were shocked to find so much badness and evil We saw wars, murder, violence, genocide and much more We saw people willingly giving themselves to evil We saw people turn a blind eye to violence and let it continue We saw an all powerful shady figure carry out his deadly agenda We saw a figure of the light try to stop him by her simple means

906606: Volume One the Self Tattooing of Nick Armbrister By Nick Armbrister

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/906606-volume-one-the-self-tattooing-of-nick-armbrister/ebook/product-23219219.html


I like tattoos. Over the years I’ve added to my collection till I’m now 75% covered. Only my face and neck, hands and feet aren’t inked. I’m filling in the remaining gaps with varied artwork. This includes doing my own tattoos either by electric gun or by hand. I thought doing it by hand would be easy; how wrong I was! I learned by trial and error. I got advice from some of my artists. My first series of tattoos were done by hand and using ball point pen ink. This works for some people but not me! Ink went all over the bed sheets. More dangerously, my body reacted against the ink and it all lifted out leaving bad scars. There’s a lesson there: DO NOT USE PEN INK! I got proper ink from my artist and tattooed a way. I did two sessions a week for months. Dozens of small tattoos filled in the gaps on my legs and other places. I slowly got better. Being good at art, I found drawing out the designs no problem. The quality of my hand done tats improved.

poem on me being blocked on facefuk for calling saudis motherfukers and terror backers

Terror Game
Saudi Arabia played football with Australia
Before the game there was a minutes silence
Saudi players refused to do the silence
They took their field positions
How fucking disgusting

Not respecting the London terror victims
This shows Saudi Arabia’s backs terrorism
I posted a BBC news link on Facefuk
I called them terror backing motherfuckers
I said I look forward to Saudi Arabia falling apart
Like Yemen who they bomb
Or Syria or Libya or Iraq or Afghan or...
I look forward the the fall of the House of Saud
Let the desert run red with their blood
Saudi Arabia the world's number 1 terror backer
Iran is next and your enemy
You fight it out in Yemen and Syria
Two rival enemy Muslim terror backers
Both fucking crazy
Saudi showing their colours by a lack of respect on the pitch
I got banned for my post calling them motherfuckers
3 days in Facefuk jail
Can't use my account at all
Fuck you Mark Suckerberg
Fuck you with a big black one
Up your white trash arse
Terror nation lover and supporter?
Due to USA selling war weapons to Saudi
Do you wanna be pres?
Next damn Trump?

I think so

For he celebrated the huge Saudi arms sale

This will be used for terror

And to defend a terror nation…

Kahlia Akasha Is Back

We armed our jet with 8 anti ship missiles. Every single under wing weapon pylon was spoken for. Under fuselage drop tank full of fuel, in front of that  a twin barrel 30mm gun with 200 armour piercing shells. We where forward based on a dusty coastal track in southwest India.
The Pak navy sank the Indian aircraft carrier and Sea Harriers so we can’t use her as a springboard. On the beach, fuel topped up, weapons armed, final checks done. We took off heading west to engage the Pakistan navy. To sink their ex British and American destroyers. Just as they sank the ex Brit carrier India had used. Mad.
Nice low slow cruise 50ft above the choppy fog laden sea. 200knots, 220mph. She would touch 530mph but we had to go slow, we had 8 ships to kill. My wife flew our plane in the back cockpit. I caressed the juicy missiles below our stealth fighter plane. Used infrared to scan ahead, just ghostly images hidden by the fog. I tried the laser range finder, so many readings due to the shifting fog. Radar! Two scans, off. There! The 1st Pak navy ship, a Type21 Frigate ex Royal Navy. Let’s do an Argy and sink it! Our Chain Head missiles are better than Exocet, 25yrs ahead in tech and lethality.
My wife kept our jet 50ft above the ocean, our grave if she hated me. I confirmed, 'Missile 1 locked on, missile 2 ready to lockup any new target,' then my lady lifted our port wing. Unbalancing me, just illusion. Enough room for our weapon to launch without hitting the sea, our right wing 20ft above the sea! A big wave would swamp us. Mad!
Away! Orange bright flare devil roar missile away. Radar on again to sweep ahead, weapon merging with Pak ship 80 miles ahead. Time to turn gently away; we have 7 more ships to find in the fog and coming night. We’re a ghost unseen below enemy radar, slow to save fuel we have forever to do our job. Sink the Pak navy. Any survivors in the water will get 30mm shells if we don’t shoot up any ships still afloat. Let’s hope our missiles work, I don’t want to strafe some drowning men, let the sea slowly claim them.
Our black painted Soviet prop jet fighter slides through the evening fog as a distant orange flash flares and dies. 7 anti ship missiles left. We’ll evade their 40yr old mirage jets...

This story/poem is my 4th Kahlia Akasha one, the others being in my 3rd book A Nation in Flames: Short Story Collection, out to order on amazon. This warplane is multi role including nuclear capable. Her real title is Aeroprogress T-720. She was never built due to the death of the cold war. This looks to be starting again. Would she be reborn, even more dangerous and deadly? After all the Russians will need a replacement for the Sukhoi Su-25 Frogfoot, a 30yr old attack jet. They lost several, blown out of the sunny Georgian skies in August 2008. Georgian missiles shot them down, David fighting Goliath. Would my Kahlia Akasha escape being shot down over Georgia? We’ll never know. She is stealth capable, has active radar jamming system, chaff and flares to decoy missiles, extreme performance and agility, small size, high technology. She isn’t invulnerable but more survivable than a Frogfoot. All I have are my own design studies, theoretical. I ask what if?

WHAT YOU WEAR

You wear your cheap jeans that cost you a fiver

with your fake Adidas t-shirt and knackered trainers.

You say this is you and you ain’t bothered so what can I say?

I’m happy in my middle of the road way.

When will you change your image?

Do you wear Y-fronts and old string vests?

Are you old well before your time?

You are an enigma to me with a hypocritical view

on fashion and a messy hair cut.

You are one of a kind now, aren’t you?

I’ll leave you alone, so bye bye numb nuts,

go and buy some new clothes.

old rude times hehe

THINGS

It is a wonderful thing that we’ve got

as we do some things that other people could never do,

like doing threesomes and foursomes and so much more besides.

Why do we do it – is the thrill that good to do the unknown?

I watched you dance with a lad,

this I didn’t like especially when he kissed you.

But if we’d all gone to bed just like we planned

the ride would have been fab, so in yer face.

We won’t do that again, no not in a club,

because you are out with me and I’m with you.

We have to be careful where we draw the line.

I don’t want this good fun to end in some upsetting scene.

After all, we’re in this together with us first and foremost.

Second Shadow Jimmy Boom Semtex

Weapons Of Peace

Welcome to Saudi Arabia. Land of desert and oil. Be good here or you're in trouble. Steal a handbag, lose a hand. Smuggle drugs and lose your head. Head chopping business is good. They're recruiting 8 new choppers. If you want to be one step above a savage, this job's for you. You'll be both feared and respected with your razor sharp sword and never out of work.

The Saudi's are bombing the fuck out of Yemen. Using weapons bought from the UK and USA. Top dollar warplanes dropping smart bombs. Hitting big ammo dumps and killing Houthi rebels. Besides thousands of civilian casualties, usual collateral damage. Many months of air raids, no end in sight. Will Iran be drawn in? Houthi rebel backers, smashing Iranian influence. For now.

It was a small news report: Saudi to buy Pakistan nukes. With no complaints or fanfare. Off the shelf bombs to face off Iran. Will it deter or spur Iran to build their own bomb? Why don't the Jews sell invisible nukes to Saudi? My enemy's enemy is my friend. Nuclear proliferation failed. Will they buy bombs, rockets or cruise missiles? What next for Saudi? Peacemaking?

Elleswyth the Warrior Nick Armbrister and P.J. Reed

It was the little green girl who lived in the forest; she was wraith like. Alice, as in fantasy land. Yet this was real, no fairytale. Tea cups clinked. Two big ones were in use. Alice's and another. Whose? And several smaller ones. The warrior woman circled the picnic site, weapon ready. The unheld tea cup hovered in the air. Unseen hands held it. The girl indicated, 'Sit Down.' The warrior advanced, spear tip ahead. In a sudden movement faster than the eye, the sharp tip caught the child's right arm. Blood flowed and her half full cup fell. Tea covered her and mixed with overly red blood. The warrior wiped her spear on the girl's dress, took the second cup from mid air and sat down. The child glared but remained silent. Her blood confirmed her life force. Who was she though? A sentry for the Devil, for her enemies or Cernunnos? Or all? She was pretty but it was a fake beauty. Stolen from willing and unwilling souls. Her age was measured in multiple centuries and not years. The beautiful toy dolls were surreal and out of place. Yet after recent events, anything was possible. "Why?" growled the warrior witch, heart thudding? 

Pussy Pounder Cocktail By Nick Armbrister

Carefully following the naked stranger Lina silently walked into the trees trying to remain quiet. Where had he gone? she wondered. There he was! A dozen yards in front of her, quickly she ducked behind a small tree and felt her heart thudding in her chest. Had he seen her? She didn’t think so. Peeping round the leaves Lina struggled to see the man, yes there he was by a tree picking some bananas. It looked like he was hungry and needed food. Look at the size of his cock, it must be six inches long and it’s not even hard! she gasped.

Hearing a twig snap and leaves rustle Jan knew something or someone was nearby, he played dumb and kept peeling a banana. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a tree move a few feet away. Suddenly dropping his fruit he sprang and ran to the bush, he was ready for anything but not expecting to see a naked woman cower in fright. For seconds the two stared at one another and then she bolted and ran. He was ready and caught hold of her hand yanking her to a stop. She swore and fell to the floor. He stood over her.

“Please don’t hurt me!” stammered the scared girl.

“Who are you? Why were you spying on me?” asked Jan gruffly, visibly annoyed.

“I live here, this is my home. I’ve never seen you before and wanted to know who you are,” replied the girl, starting to cry.

“I need food and I’m hungry. That’s why I came ashore, I’ll soon be gone. It’s still rude to spy on me,” explained Jan. The girl sobbed violently.

“Please don’t hurt me; I’m sorry for spying on you. I’ve never seen a naked man before.”

“I won’t hurt you and stop crying, little girls do that. Looking at you, you’re not a little girl,” he commented bending down and putting his arm around her. She fell into his arms and cried against his chest, he felt her warm tears. He was responsible for them.

“Shh, don’t cry I didn’t mean to be bossy with you. For that I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Kahlia Akasha Jet Strike By Jimmy Boom Semtex

   “That was bright! The rocket motor,” commented the oriental girl, adjusting her night vision goggles from the glare of the first missile. She checked her systems. Telemetry data linked from the missile showed it was on course and rapidly closing on target at supersonic speed. It would be some flash when it went off, best be ready!

   “Let’s get out of here! All hell will break loose in a minute!” whispered her man, watching more inaccurate enemy missiles launch from the dark jungle into the starry sky. They know we are here but not where, he mused.

   “Our missile looks good, almost on target. Get ready. Now!” she confirmed, before everything changed forever. He clicked his mike in response and concentrated on flying the jet, turning their radar set on from standby now their enemy was alert.

   In a huge white flash, the touch of God, the single converted missile whooshed down onto the hidden camouflaged entrance of the secret nuclear facility. Protected by a massive two foot thick steel blast door, with an outer foot of painted concrete, the base was proof against most weapons but not nuclear. The missile smashed into the door, slightly left of centre, piercing the fake rock and a foot of steel before its velocity was reduced. Sensors and accelerometers sensed this and detonated the weapon, vaporising the door, the air in the tunnel and rock walls of the tunnel. A wave of pure plasma whooshed into the base killing, wrecking and causing a small chain reaction with the single Burmese nuclear reactor and four small tactical weapons being worked on. Destruction was total with not a living soul emerging from underneath the crater which had once been two miles of winding tunnels and underground rooms. Mission kill number one had been achieved. The blast wave buffeted the stealth warplane with a gentle caress as they sped away from their destruction.

   “Whoa yeah! We did it! Fuckin’ ace!” whooped the western pilot.

   “Yes my love we did, a definite kill. Nothing will be coming out of there now,” she quietly said, checking their cameras were getting all this.

   “Did we record it okay?

   “Yes my dear, you've got to see it. Quite something, the mushroom cloud is already three miles high and climbing.”

   “I can see it in my mirror and reflecting over the jungle, it looks like day back there. I can see without my goggles. I’ve had to adjust them…”

   More missiles rose into the air ahead of them, all missing. Behind them no more missiles were fired, the launching units were either destroyed or shorted out by the blast and EMP. Time for target number two.

   Patching more info into their navigation system, they got ready. She re-programmed their second weapon for its target. It wasn’t been needed before, the first weapon worked as advertised being shoved down the throat of the Burmese military.