Saturday 1 September 2018

FADE INTO FOCUS, FOCUS INTO FADE nick armbrister


ICE


So, so cold yet such tragic beauty,
every crystal is different, all so unique.
That is ice, beautiful ice.


HUMAN EMOTION ON THE EDGE


Tragically we are all so human, so human. Each of us has so many haunting feelings.
They come and go, yes I know what you mean, the Soviet bomber pilot prays to an outlawed God to save him, as the Sparrow missile closes in at Mach 4.
A lonely single lad asks a girl out with his heart in his hands; if she says no he’d rather die than feel the shame.
What are we to make of all this information our brain gives us? So many feelings in so many situations – we often wish we were robots but then we’d all be cowards,
emotionless and numb.
We ride out the storm, a storm of our own tragic making. As bits of a shattered Russian plane fall earthwards, please do remember, we are all tragically human.
To die in a white-hot missile blast is small mercy, the best we can hope for in this crazy cutting world.




RAGING RIVER


The raging river runs all year round through the varied landscape,
hundreds of yards wide and a dozen deep, a lifeline of the planet.
Full of life, a river of life for the people who live by it and for nature herself.
Mankind uses this river as a source of food and power with his river boats.
He is often blind to the harm he can do, taking too much fish and polluting
the clear water with chemicals; he must be careful or nature could be harmed.
This river has a life energy and balance that can be so delicate with a small
eco-system right here in co-existence with man, his lifeline so full of  necessity.
We should be grateful for this beauty and river, it can be a huge flood and massive
torrent raging so fast and doing much damage to mans’ fragile buildings.
In a quieter mood the river slows and meanders, a sleepy giant of power and nature.


MISSING


Hurricane fighter plane dives through clouds towards the ground,
he goes down through the thick grey murk, no one can see him or knows
where he is going.
His wingmen landed some time ago and still there is no trace of him.

Is he gone, his plane so many smashed pieces of metal or burnt ash?

The dogfight was fast and swift with many planes turning and rolling
for ascendancy over the other, six Germans and two Hurricanes are missing.
Yes we beat them this time, but for what? If only this was a game and
everyone survived.
There will be empty beds tonight and a grieving girlfriend and family,
hoping against hope that their boy will return.




RAGING EARTH


If we could look at the earth in a few thousand years from now,
we would see a nightmare vision. A planet ravaged by massive ice flows,
poisonous radiation storms and acidic oceans.
A naive mankind has done this. Now man has gone underground, far below
the poison and the cold.
It will be ten thousand years before he ventures forth again. Now he lives in
huge caverns using the heat of the earth for warmth. He has built massive
cities underground built of crystal and minerals.
He has forgotten what it feels like to walk in the sun or to swim in the sea,
these are only the memories of a raging, shattered world.




rude cross

Preacher man got off his small chair and knelt in front of Big Gun, who was still seated. Preacher went into slave mode; he passed his tormentor his whiskey glass, being careful not to spill any. Hell would be unleashed if he did!
“Good boy, you’re learning. Now undo my trousers and get my cock out. Make sure you don’t undo my gun belt by mistake or I’ll blow your fucking head off. Get on with it.”
“Yes Big Gun. Anything so you don’t shoot me, even sucking your cock.”
“Right then. Make sure you do it right and no teeth or I’ll shoot.”
Preacher man put down his bible and tried to undo the buttons on Big Gun’s dirty sweaty trousers. It was hard because the gun belt hung low over the buttons. Please dear Lord let me undo the buttons and get this over with so I can live and continue doing God’s work. Quite easily the six buttons opened allowing the holy man to draw the trousers open and reach in to get Big Gun’s cock out. It was like a small shrunken sausage with grey hairs all over it and blue ruddy veins all over it. A smell like old sweaty socks filled the air, making Preacher man gag.