JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX/NICK ARMBRISTER: February 2018

Saturday, 17 February 2018

Murky Poems and Ditties

This is the new alternative poetry book by Nick Armbrister. His work covers many themes ranging from failed romance, the darker aspects of life, science fiction, aircraft and much more. Other talented poets also contribute poems. Examples are Gloomy Sunday by Zen Stark which covers broken romance written in gangsta style and poems on Mark E Smith, the singer of the legendary group The Fall, by Andy N. There is enough here to keep anyone busy, from regular fans of Nick's work to new readers. Watch out for book 2.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/gatoros-and-crocos-lower-case-murky-poems-and-ditties/ebook/product-23539142.html

Board of Directors

Board of a normal job?

Join the directors’ board and be a cunt.

Sat in a big fat chair on your big fat arse.

Getting paid a big fat wad.

Doing sweet fuck all.

You've got the boss charisma.

The look of a twat and smile of a loon.

Cunning mind in regards to yourself.

Profits made on the backs of dead men.

Making their wives widows after stealing their lives.

Do you have President Trump's name tattooed?

Right on your fucking arse, where he belongs.

Two swamp animals, bottom feeders that are selfish.

Mean in regards to success, it’s all yours.

Worst kind of American dream, oh yes.

CEO meaning something so damn rude.

Just wait till you get capped by an ex-employee.

Maybe it'll be me...

Sour Crab

You live at the sea bottom with all the scum.

Feeding off the rest, food chain extraordinaire.

A real fucking twat to be polite.

One of a kind straight outa a Priest song.

You're a virus that dispenses quickly.

Killing oh so fucking slowly.

Crab paste butty from the monger man.

All rancid and piled high with bacteria.

Just like your mother, whore in a dress.

All her curves say one thing:

Fuck me!

As you kill, she fucks.

Sour crab family, low life people.

From a deprived town full of scum.

Nobodies from nowhere doing no good.

Descend to hell sour crab.

Pinched Ma Dawg

Zander was his name.

My puppy dog his game.

Stealing with no blame.

Man with no shame.

Kill you with a flame.

Are you the same?

Also in the frame.

As many would claim.

Even if you’re lame.

And say you’re tame.

Missing dog will inflame.

And highlight the rename.

Of my missing puppy, Zame.

Who is yours, you proclaim.

Aboard an airframe.

Flying to Spain.

Bring on war-game.

Friday, 16 February 2018

tarac ridge mariveles bataan philippines warplanes crash trip feb 8-10 1...

ridge mariveles bataan philippines warplanes crash trip feb 8-10 18 trip 4

tarac ridge mariveles bataan philippines warplanes crash trip feb 8-10 1...

ridge mariveles bataan philippines warplanes crash trip feb 8-10 18 trip 11

tarac ridge mariveles bataan philippines warplanes crash trip feb 8-10 1...

Tuesday, 13 February 2018

Buried underground, no food, no water only death

https://networkforanimals.org/newsletter-page/buried-underground-no-food-no-water-only-death/

Tarac

Tarac
We busted our balls
To get up there
Over a kilometre high
Where the warplanes live
And die a violent death
Meeting their end up above
On towering lonely slopes
As did Lt Stone and Sgt Kurosawa
On the same day seventy six years ago
To the day we went there
As others before had
For we had a job to do
The missing answer to find
To locate the remains of a lost pilot
Named Stone from America
Who flew a Curtiss P-40 Warhawk
In mortal battle with his nemesis
Kurosawa from Japan
With his Nakajima Ki-27 Nate
Both died that day
February 9 1942
And both haunt those inclines
One is angry and lost
One found wants to go home
One likes Hello Kitty
But not the one you think
For my drink tumbler fell
And the guide missed it
It stopped where Stone said
And there we dug dug dug
And found his airplane
Or what was once his warplane
In pieces that were scrap
But had meaning to our group
For it was this plane
That brought us here
Many hours of climbing
Swearing and sweating
To touch the clouds
And be where both hit
At what cost?
Two planes smashed
Two pilots dead
The American protecting Villamoor
The Philippines' best pilot
Who flew his biplane
A Boeing Stearman
On a recon mission
The same type that flies today
With sexy English wing walkers
From Clark in Bataan
The same field Kurosawa flew from
Yes synchronicity is here
Eagle Has Landed style
What does this mean now?
In 2018 right now
Is it the pilots' ghosts
Or God or fate or karma
That brought me here
To Tarac Ridge to look
To try to find Stone's bones?
When so many have looked
And failed to find him
Did we really find Lt Stone?
So he's no longer MIA
And captive here
This beautiful mountain side
Where the sky and sea become one
Where Bataan and Corregidor
Are visible
The old battlefields
Where hell occured
Where there are more MIAs
From both sides
Both pilots hunted here
And both became the prey
Paying the ultimate cost
Bent metal and broken bones
Telling a story
Their story
If you listen
You will hear it...