love in a drug war

Colombian War
The way you look in your army uniform
In the Colombian jungle between battles
Is just fucking awesome baby

You remove the uniform against orders
Put on a blue dress under the trees
I lift up your dress on your thighs

See your lovely legs so demure
I see the army helicopter tattoo there
Such machines carry you and me
Into the heat of battle

Right now I feel a different heat
That of your hot body
Under the midday sun
Adding to your heat for me

I lift your dress over your shoulders
I see your lovely breasts wobble free
Just imagine the guerrillas saw us now

What would they think and do?
Stop and stare or stop and shoot?

You and me here in the jungle
Between ops against the terrorists fighters
We are both soldiers and do what we do

Our army supports us both
Being together and as soldiers
For anything can happen in battle
Like falling in love in a drug war

new poems4

Indifferent End
Part of a system of what
Invented by people
To work and control
Further means an end
To achieve what?
We will see in the end
Good or bad
Indifferent end

-------
Our Arrival
There we go again to where
Where you ask on the road
A further road trip by wheels
Which direction do we go?
Any point of the compass
We will bring our effect there
Get ready for our arrival

-----

A Difference
Which part of my karma will
I work thru today?
The good bad or indifferent
Will it make a difference?

-----------

Research
What happens if you bump into them
The guardians of the old sites
Which have so many secrets
Keeping them secure
From our historical eyes
Will they be benign or battle?

------

The Old Ways Days
The old ways are days turned to dust
Not not even ash or funeral garb
Rotting in a collapsed coffin
Or blowing in the wind
A branch of a tree
Still standing but only just
It will fall this is a given
But when and under why
This is yet to be determined
Be warned you must prepare
The end is coming
Of what?

-------

FB Love

lol how about this facebook? FUCK U LOL

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new work 3

From the Skies It was what it was and I did what I did Way back then in the mists of time Three and a half decades ago Throwing stones hit to hit to hit Long range archer locking you up Then launch get you from above Every single time not caring about later Coz I'm the best and have the reach And never got nicked by the Law Tho my dad was once a copper Yet he never tried to stop me It was my mum who complained But most of my actions were mine Stealthily done and left there Where they took place Damaging events on people On vehicles, property and more My own little battle campaign Mid 80s style that I now regret ---- Loaded System Part of the system A rhetorical statement Always the same Forever different When twelve meets ten Twelve equals twelve Loaded rounds in the mag Mixed ammo load Has a good target effect But fouls up the barrel How the armourers moan It gets me the results In this my own private war In the war to end wars Blame the system Reload my guns...

new work2

Jen Gen
Your Xmas gift is a black man
He will give you a nice gift
So you have a very happy Xmas
Night to never ever forget
Joyous mummy's day in 9 months
A lil baby chocolate drop

-------------


Go Ten
The man rides a yellow motorcycle
Like the guy who drives the red car
Why do they do this?
Are they colour blind?
Or in love with their machines

------------------


Bank Yank
You sound so hot baby
I wanna grind you ragged
Make you scream my name
Lovely shy Desi girl

------


Reversing Roles
Way it is always will be
Cat and mouse reversed
Not always what it seems
For things change all the time
Never the same except for change
Who set it up this way?
The system really sucks
Make a better one right now
Maybe this will actually work

---------------


Way Away
They dropped their loads down below
On those who were having fun
All the tunnels are pink inside
And very tight to the feel


----

new work

One never does learn?/Another tattoo more pain/Behold, joy of art

-----------

His mum hated it/Hot girl tattooed on his arm/His real life hot wife!

------------------

Writing stories in the sky with their aeroplanes

-----------

John aimed his rifle/Argentina soldier dead/Job satisfaction

----

Marie the pilot/Hot legs short skirt stealth bomber/To Moscow and back

----------------

All are opposites/Right gal, Air Force brat, correct/My upside down life  

----------

Flameism 

Top of the world

Up on a tail of fire

Rocket plane soars

Like a fucking eagle

Straight to the clouds

And beyond to space

Like a cliched angel

Ascending with Satan

Glued to her butt

Chemical reaction

Elements combining

Propelling ascension

This is how God feels

Top of the world

Infinity comes close

-------------

Sore leg sore leg sore leg Must be another tattoo Look how funny he walks Moving along like a spider crab Pain the price for art One of the special cases Full of tattoos top to toe He'd have more but no room Unless tattoos on tattoos But he's not there yet That's the next step As is learning to tattoo Then he needs a guniea pig Hold them down and ink them All for art and tradition

missing pilot poems

Twice 2
We will be back on the hill
Looking for you like we did in 18
And the others did in 19
When I wasn't allowed to go
Unlike in 20 when I return
And maybe we will find you
Hiding in the soil of the hillside
Almost a kilometre up
Final resting place
Pilot and plane
In 2 places 2 events
Maybe we will find you
Will we?

Results Needed
We went here before
We are here again
And will do so
Till we find you
How long will it take?
Who holds the answer?
Let me talk to them
I will bring in results

Coloured Colours
The soil of the mountain holds the answers
It will not shout out HERE I AM!
For it is quiet and shy and hides
Maybe in plain sight till we find it
The answer of where exactly you are
We know you are on the mountain
Somewhere up there on the heights
We wish to know exactly where
I want to be there when we find you
Imagine the feeling I will feel
And stories I will later tell
Being able to say I WAS THERE
So where are you Lt Stone?
Do tell me...

Money Money

Money Money

The two sexy lazy Millennial gals trick me

With their lovely lilty little linguistics

Paying the dues before it’s actually due

So I don’t get my Very Special Bonus

But do not worry I say to myself

Those two sexy lil ladies are my bonus

I’ll call round especially after work

And unload my gift to them

See how they accept and smile in glee

My huge monster cock is on holiday

Seeding their tight Mohomai Love Holes

With Tattoo Man’s supreme quality spunk

They’ll catch and each have four babies

This will keep both Lazy Millennials busy

So they don’t forget my Very Special Bonus

After all it’s Xmas my dear mother truckers

And time to party on down

Saturday Man

Saturday Man
BY CRAIG J. BURT/Jimmy Boom Semtex
Peace & love he speaks proud of
Guns & baseball bats he screams loud for
He's a wild man
Don't have time to creep
He can stare straight at you hard
& attack you while you sleep

This evil self taught handy man
Can defeat you with is hands
He's a product of this vile evil town
Dare to walk the streets
Meet him down town or up town
He'll slice and dice you for sure
Criss cross like a bun
Empty your wallet and nab your gun
Then turn it on yourself
This handler of weapons
The self taught maniac of Boston

Over the Phone

Over the Phone
What do you wanna do over the phone?
Order a mafia hit
Buy a pizza
Book your car into the garage
Talk dirty to your special friend
Inform the military aliens have landed
Confirm that human life is a mirage
Discover that you're somebody else
Perform a positive life giving event
Listen to your favourite band from afar
Uncover history changing state secrets
Pry into the prince's private life
Hood wink a reporter on buried treasure
All this and more takes place
Over the phone in your hands

One Rowing Boat

One Rowing Boat
The boat sails to where
Taking you across choppy or calm seas
An ocean so deep there is no bottom

It's simply immeasurable except by feeling
Only then do you fathom its depths

Moods just like yourself
Mirror image of water
On a world orbiting in space

A few miles this way or that
Too hot or too cold
We are all water
From the stars

new poems

RX Hellfire
The sword fell out of the sky
At one thousand miles per hours
Rocket powered missile driven
It hit the man on his head
Sky sword mushed him up
Badly strawberry jam time
From Uncle Sam to Daesh
Via al Qaeda and the Taliban
Secret skysword gonna get you
No safety except for your kids
Surgical killing unlike any other
Elimination of terrorists works
Who said it's not a video game?
Pass the coffee and my cushion
There's enemies to surveil
Drones to fly and scum to kill
Sky sword rocket death
Death from above

------------

other things will be aware
ghosts elementals aliens spirits
and so much more besides
aware of this silver spitfire
that flew around the world
i was only aware when it landed

TOTAL FUCKING WAR

TOTAL FUCKING WAR

Thoughts cascaded in his head while he piloted their jet on course ready for what was to come. “To protect and defend with all and every means at ones disposal but does that include offensive missions totally deniable in a nuclear strike fighter armed with nuclear arms? Crossing the threshold if it actually stops the enemy from gaining a nuclear release? Are we justified to act so offensively in nuclear combat if it’s actually a defensive measure? For in total war there is no mercy even before the commencement of hostilities…”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Oh fuck, enemy radar had gained skin paint on them. How was that possible? They were a hundred feet above the jungle and rolling hills of the coastal area. It must be on a hill and triangulated with a couple of other units. Time to jam the fuck out of them. “Ok my love bring the jammers online and jam their asses, they know we’re here but not exactly where. Go to full power and feed in subtle frequency changes so they can’t track us by our jamming location.”

“I’m on it my love. You going to launch on them?” his demure love answered, tuning in their jammer and making it active. Powerful agile beams of deceiving jamming waves blinded the enemy radars giving false readings and filling their screens with snow.

“No not just yet, not if our jamming works as advertised. Okay… where are we in relation to their secret nuke base?”

“Coming up on the nose eighteen miles away. I’d expect missile launches any minute. Ah there! And there… at two and twelve o’clock, enemy missiles launched. Looks like ballistic, they have no lock on us!” she hurriedly replied, breathing heavily.

“Right, we’re on target and the weapon is armed. I see the missiles, no danger to us. Am pulling up ready to launch and then will turn to starboard onto our new course away from the blast,” the rear seat pilot announced, checking his displays and keying in information. “Be ready for our launch, turn and any more enemy missiles.”

“Okay,” from the girl in the front seat.

“Three, two, ONE! Missile away! Here we go!” screamed her lover as he climbed their jet fifty more feet to give their port missile clearance when it dropped free and lit up its rocket engine. He yanked their jet into a tight right turn, pushing their single throttle to max power without reheat. Acceleration was instant, coupled with gravity in the turn, bringing a grey out. Exciting but in no way dangerous.

“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.

Their radar screen had remained blank but now several dots came into view, all unidentified with no IFF and ID’d as Burmese Air Force Mig 29 jet fighters by their compressor blade configuration. Three planes climbed up visible on infrared like slowly ascending comets.

“Three enemy jet fighters, Mig 29s by the radar data, closing from starboard. Ten miles and closing. They haven’t seen us yet. Shall I lock them up for you? Medium or short range weapon?” queried the girl in front, her fingers locking up the enemy jets.

“Short range, I want to make this personal. We’ll take two with missiles and the last with guns,” replied her pilot in his steely confident warrior voice. His finger clicked short range on his control stick, his eyes monitored his computers for any problems; there were none.

Changing course slightly he arrowed their jet toward the enemy Migs. Counting down in his head he fired the first portside Brightstar heat seeking close range missile and then the second. The enemy jets must have got lucky and seen the glare of the rocket motors because they turned as one away from the advancing jet and two even faster missiles. It was no use. The first missile connected with the outer Mig 29 and exploded behind the cockpit killing the pilot and destroying the aircraft. The blast was dim in comparison with the rapidly climbing nuclear mushroom cloud and burning jungle, now a firestorm. Almost immediately the second weapon blew up underneath the other turning jet, blowing a wing off and spinning the plane out of control. The pilot ejected and survived his encounter with an unknown assailant.

One Mig remained and it wanted revenge. Its radar came alive looking for the attacker but found nothing, it looked for them on infrared and saw nothing. His equipment was old and not a 5th gen system. He fired two short-range missiles blind hoping for a lucky hit. All he did was to illuminate his position. His weapons flew four miles and exploded harmlessly when their motors burnt out.

Arcing his stealth warplane around for a gun run the pilot clicked guns on his stick and told his weapons girl he was going in close to nail the last enemy with 23mm gunfire. Good as his word he watched the enemy jet turn and arc up in a climb, following it in his night vision goggles, patiently waiting for the distance to go under one mile. Now! A single press and twenty shells shot out and connected in a fine line with the third Burmese AF Mig. It was hit in the main fuel tank, exploding like a huge firework, so much for armoured self-sealing protection!

“That’s three kills my love. How are we doing for cannon ammo?” he asked.

“Just over eighty shells left my dear, good shooting!” she answered with a smile.

“It’s not just me my dear, we’re a team remember? A very good one. Okay now, what direction to our second target?”

“Erm… come around and steer 284 degrees and fly for five minutes at four hundred and fifty knots. That will take you into our missile launch area. I’ve already programmed the target location. I love you Nick!” she whispered.

“Thanks my dear. Am on it now, be ready for anything. And I love you too Vaanya,” confirmed Nick, his commitment to his lady and their mission was total. He wouldn’t back out not even for a second. Nick reefed their warplane onto their heading and slowed to attack speed. Behind them in the jungle a huge fire roared out of control underneath a cooling mushroom cloud. A single fleeing pilot faced death by fire under the rapidly advancing firestorm.

jimmy boom semtex

Gatoros and Crocos: Lower Case Murky Poems and Ditties Nick Armbrister poems

boxing

the guinea pig sleeps in a purple box

the artillery shells are stored in a brown box

the beer tins are chilled in a blue box

the false teeth are placed in a clear box

the nuclear reactor rests in a concrete box

the corpse rests in a wooden box

the tramp lives in a cardboard box

the black dog hides in an iron box

the laser gyro functions in a crystal box

the magician escapes in an iron box

the fire burns in an insulated box

the prisoner rots in a wire box

the alien hides in a plausible deniability box

the box is in a box in a box in a box in a...

cocpis

if you cum i will kill you

said the whore to her client

just before she sucked his dick

with a pistol aimed at his head

the poor guy was terrified

he was ready to shoot his load

and get his fucking head blown off!

all the while the whore kept on sucking

and pointing her cocked pistol

bigger than jesus!

there is a blockage up my fucking arse

not even a big black n@#$%r’s dick will budge it

something big and black will pop out of my butt

a big black baby ten times bigger than any black cock

a butt plug from the depths of my bowels

put there by something i ate nom no nom!

Who is to know what’s inside

it’s in perfection mode right now

stopping me having a shit but it’s fine

i keep on eating 5 square fat bastard meals a day

breakfast dinner tea supper and more

till something pops out of my hairy english arse

the bowl will shudder and break

as i shit a nuke down from my tubes

so get ready for my turd is coming

this coming will be bigger than jesus

and smell like fuck!

fly

come and fly with me, girl under the sun above the clouds and be one with me.

hold tight as we go full speed, five hundred and ninety miles an hour, we, a black blur

of streamlined beauty in the huge vista of the sky, our sky, forever more.

you are with me as we loop the loop, feel the g-force as i hold you as reassuringly as i would, our horizon shifting sky becoming our new earth.

up the circle, i hear you call my name, scream in excitement.

upside down now as we curve round –

my beautiful airplane is lost when compared to you and your ethereal presence behind me…

cindy

cindy the raunchy hippy gal gets it on

with her 22 year old toy boy lover

he called round at hers' and grinded her

covering her neck with love bites

and filling her with his seed

while she rode him hard

and used and abused his body

both of them deserved it

for it was what they were

a willing young buck stud

with his older sexy activity partner

drink was involved cider style

mixed with wine and vodka

and fruit juice with ice

some of which found its way

onto her body for erotic purposes

like ice on her nipples

and also banana cream on her pussy

while he licked kissed and bit

her at every single place

with each opportunity he got

more experience for him

and another notch for her

the aging fun loving hippy

who'd fucked a thousand men

and two hundred men

in her debaucherous liberal life