grizzled

 

i sent out at least 32 poem/story publishing submissions to publishers in wot 3 days. maybe more. got 8 rejections just august 1 date. some date back to late may or june when sent. in total i sent hundreds of writing out to paying competitions and publishers since mid may. had 2 subs accepted. payment is later in the year. another will be read in a podcast. no idea if human or ai do it. actually cannot find the email saying on it lol. will sent more out. as aug1 came by i sent a story off. the irate publisher said what list did i get his info from? so i took time to get the list links i work off. he had multiple writing submissions in what 2 or 3 hours. and will get hundreds. good to use my 28 years worth or writing i have old and new. plus my new story book is at 26k words target is 200k. aiming for a million seller or many best sellers. all writers lie if they say they do not want that. of course we write for the art. success is mine here. and yes rejection letters hurt. move on. sales in all areas is the target. go figure team. see ya later \m/

 

 

Jimmy Sold Out

 

 

Jimmy Sold Out

There was once a sales manager called Jimmy. He worked in Spain’s top commercial company selling all types of goods from light bulbs to candy bars to laptop computers. He was the best seller there was but always wanted more. Not more money for he was a multi-millionaire many times over maybe even a billionaire. He wanted more sales along with the sweet taste of success. Success was his most sacred thing. It brought money which he had and power. He was powerful being from a commercial political military family. Even in one of those areas there was power to have all three was to be both gifted and brilliant. He had all three or excelled in all three. With a father and brother who were top businessmen, a sister who was running for national leaders and his own service in the army, Jimmy was the way to the future. He wanted increases across the board. More business ventures, more political influence and increased military strength. With all his skills he was at the top of his game and could advance no further. So something different needed to be done; a pact with Satan and his minions of darkness. This would bring all the success he wanted and then some.

 

Jimmy went with Onzina to meet a strange man who didn’t say much. This quiet yet influential figure was from Vietnam. He was called Demang. He was a trim 140 pound athlete type of youngish guy who worse sports clothing and a silenced pistol visible in his waistband on a friction clip. They met at a coffee shop on a busy Tuesday afternoon. Jimmy took a pause in his business to organize the meeting. Ozina was his second in command. Both resonated success and power. Demang had even more of it. They drank coffee and got down to business pretending to discuss a sales deal; in reality it was how to get extra success. It was simple really. You need to both do what I did. Believe in what you’re doing and sell your soul to Satan. That’s it. Write it down on paper, what you want. Believe in it. Speak it out loud then burn the papers. And lastly you invoke Satan. He will rapidly give you what you want. Jimmy nodded and conversed with Onzina. Both nodded and said yes. Demang went and ordered more coffee. They went into the smoking part of the coffee shop. Demang produced a golden fountain pen and said let’s do it. He passed the two guys paper and the pen. Each wrote down their soul trade. Demang told them again what to do repeating that they needed to believe a hundred percent. They both whispered it invoked Satan and lit the papers with a petrol lighter Demang had. Then they drank their coffees and had nice big fat cigars. Jimmy had these just for this occasion. They toasted to more success and the positive illicit gains it would bring. Jimmy had sold his soul to the Devil. He also sold his best pal’s too. The forces of darkness became more powerful. One more step closer to global domination and a victory against the witch and the forces of light.

***

new poems

 

Let Me Out!

The Spanish were upset

An oil tanker sank a mile offshore

The water was a mile deep

Yet the tide would carry the oil

Ashore so it would ruin the beaches

Kill the fish eradicate the birds

Blacken swimmers poison the sea

Turn the sand to asphalt

Do a hundred other evil things

Blame the typhoon blame the captain

Blame all things but it’s clear

The ship is no longer afloat

It’s at the bottom of the sea

All that juicy engine oil waiting

To escape to poison all things

Let me out let me out let me out!

……………………….

Chinky Earphones

The black earphones were made in Red China by CCP turtles

They worked for a year giving reasonably good sound

Then the right side stopped working it was totally dead

It was out of guarantee just over one year old

The left side still worked fine with clear sound

That was fine if you were ok with it that way

He wasn’t ok with that not at all he cursed their crap

Nowt but mass produced junk made by slave labour

He listened to three songs tried messing with it

Unplugging them bending the wire increasing the volume

He looked at the wire it appeared fine so what was it?

What exactly was the motherfucking problem!

His white earphones would do the job he swapped them

Tried a song full volume the sound was at both ears

These had something wrong the frequency range was off!

No vocals came thru just a mass of static with bass

Back to his other black pair he’d listen with his left ear

It was better than garbled sound of no music at all

Both pairs made in Red China by CCP turtles

All stolen shit copied crap made by bastards!

……………………….

Those Risks

They say soccer is a dangerous game to play

And yes there are risks when you join a team

All hustle and bustle score the winning goal!

You can be knocked unconscious

You can swallow your tongue

You can break a leg

You can have a heart attack

You can be killed by rocket attack

Yes there are risks yet winning is worth it

Would you take a risk and play soccer?

…………………..

Russian civil war/what would it be like? Let’s see/go! Dispose Putin

ONRADICALS – MIXED POEMS Jimmy Boom Semtex

 

ONRADICALS – MIXED POEMS Jimmy Boom Semtex. A new poem book of adult content poems in words subject matter situations and themes. From descriptive work based situations to powerful bosses who really are in charge via descriptive military and political writing there is also erotic and human interaction based themes. Most people will have endured or recognize the characters and situations described here. Jimmy has been busy living and writing.

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1584174 

 

Butt Sore

The arse crack of the guy is sore

His pal poured vinegar onto it

It was fine before then

And he added some sand too

Not off the beach but builders’ sand

His butt crack really itched

Made him walk side to side

Just wait till he got better

His pal would be sore!

 

 

 

Throwaway

Listen to the record and how

It tells of other people’s lives

The same as our lives or not the same

What would it be to swap lives and be them?

Be them just for a day they become me

What of it all this short term change over?

I think I’d welcome being them for a day

Would I like their life adore or hate it

Loath their bad parts embrace the good

Idle thought while listening to The Smiths

Only now in 2024 have I listened to the records

35 years behind the hard core fans

It’s only throwaway rock n roll music

With depressing lyrics same as life

 

 

 

Movements Ongoing

What of the decisions you made

In the last decade

 

What of the decisions you made

Where do you stand today

 

What of the decisions you made

In the over last two years

 

What of the decisions you made

In your life full of varied events

 

What of the decisions you made

You decided to marry a man

 

What of the decisions you made

Instead of marrying a woman

 

What of the decisions you made

To alienate your mother

 

What of the decisions you made

Walking out of the house

 

What of the decisions you made

That you made today

 

What of the decisions you made

Going half a world away

 

What of the decisions you made

To be with him…

 

 

 

Shell shock a hard life/never knew what he wanted/memory damage

 

 

 

 

 

Muscle Man 400 

 

Demang weighed 400 pounds. That was Pepsi and crisps. Yet he looked like 140 or a bit less. That was healthy living. Indeed a slight muscle man. How was it possible? Dark arts. And not the witch...

 

It was possible to do all things if you were in charge and had power. This went both ways for the witch and her enemy the Devil. Her nemesis always seemed to lose. He was doing a new plan. He would impregnate women and give them healthy offspring. These would grow up and work for him and further his cause of darkness. His tool being an Army Of Darkness by using his muscle tool and basic biology.

 

Juniper's Daughter faced Demang again but now physically different. No longer weighing four hundred pounds he was a trim one forty with an athletic body. Most women were turned off by a large fat man. They were not by a slim muscle guy.

 

He picked up his ladies in varied places. From the gym to a bar to atop a mountain. He always referred to them as his ladies. He treated them with dignitary and respect. Then they never refused him. He could've used his dark magic but he liked it all natural. That is by biology. His trim body and charm brought him results. It worked and was his gift. This version of Demang had many ladies over a decade. Satan's army would grow in the future. Each kid had its life planned out before birth. All for darkness and dark deeds. His time on Earth well spent to take over the planet and fill Hell with more souls/victims. There were so many to choose from!

 

Demang had many forms. There was the alpha male who said he wasn’t who worked in a Italian call centre. His skills were selling business and leadership. Plus being a chick boy with a host over lovers well into double digits; all were pregnant or had kids off him.  

 

There was the Asian businessman who lived in both the Middle East and Far East. He had nine kids with seven women. Business was many things as was negotiating. More kids were planned off lovers half his age. This version of Demang was like a very refined fine wine.

 

There was the historical Soviet communist. He was a dinosaur and loathed capitalists. He regularly made love to women half his age, policeman’s wives, Red Chinese communist field operatives and others. He had bred a few too with more to go.

 

There was the German married pervert. His wife loved him and did most things in bed except three or foursomes. What she didn’t do he did with other gals. He hated getting caught and was soon to find number four. The wife was pregnant. Others would follow.

 

 

 

 

 

There was the Jordanian muscle man who you’ve already met who used his muscle body to pump away all night and all day. He had a fast body fast mind could handle himself. Like the rest he would breed successfully many times.

 

All impregnated gals to raise an army of darkness. Maybe the witch should be pregnant by the real Demang the 400 pound version? How would she take it? Badly of course. It was bad enough facing a military general genius who worked for Satan and who was addicted to Pepsi. What could be worse? It always went back to that. What was worse?

 

How would the witch combat this? Her charm and seduction skills for she knew what would happen.

***

 

Demang was getting it on. The witch was actually being fucked by the Devil! She was testing him out or this manifestation of Demang. If it was the 400 pound version she would be squashed flat. Yet the fat fucker had a certain beauty that words or emotions couldn’t describe. The 140 model was sublime and fucked all night long. He simply ideal in all ways. She protected herself by her magic and psychic spells. Nothing could harm her not even Satan’s big cock inside the witch. Juniper’s Daughter was an honest person especially with herself. Sometimes she needed a right good hard fuck with all the bells and whistles on. Her moans and shouts filled the small cheap hotel room.

 

Demang grunted and thrust away his toned muscles working like a machine. It was an enjoyable time if a bit surreal. The Master of Darkness bonking the Mistress of Light. These things happened it was part of life and of all things. Would the Universe collapse and galaxies collide? No. it was just sex! Her mother Juniper would complain but hadn’t she done similar things? What if the Devil compared the two? The witch hadn’t thought of that! She shut away the thought before it escaped. As her memory of when she sucked a man up her pussy and killed him. She was a witch and was beyond physics.

 

Demang fucked her press up style keeping his arms extended then going down on his palms and bending his elbows. His cock was up the gal and his muscles did the work, cock and upper body. The gal enjoyed it. The gal was the witch. He was a human robot. What did that make her? The bed creaked under his supposed 400 now 140 weight. Such a muscle man such a good lover. Would the witch fuck him if he was his usual 400 pound jelly bulk? An age old question. Demang knew she’d been fucked by other big fat guys before one even 500 pounds. She was a witch and immortal! Yes her mortal body could easily be killed but she was just as easily reborn. She was a Goddess.

 

Back to the bonking and the muscle man did his piece making Juniper’s Daughter moan like she was in pain. She whimpered in the most sublime pleasures a human could get. Well except for Demang doing his psychopath role slicing up people for Satan! He wanted to slice and dice the witch up after sexually abusing and hurting her. For that he needed the Devil’s permission. That was after he’d completed this mission, he would ask. He could kill her but Satan was touchy for his operatives stepping on his toes. All things needed his permission. His finger was in every pie. In a way it was Satan shagging the witch right now. Not with his real cock though as it was really over three feet long! This human version was big enough and not even black!

 

After sex or lovemaking or whatever it was the witch clicked her fingers and Demang disappeared. She’d sent him to Antarctica while he was naked! Such was her spell work skills and sarcasm!

***