Natalie. Mid Course

Nat continued her flight training, moving onto more powerful aircraft, flying on and passing her Basic with ease. Next was a fast prop plane from America. It handled like a Mustang. Her instructor was in the back seat. Natalie was up front, alone fighter style.

Her first flight nearly killed them. The roaring engine stopped dead. Engine failure at six thousand feet brought silence. She took control. Pushing the nose down not to stall, Nat made a decision: to land the plane on the Pampas grass. It would save them all. Her instructor kept an eye on his pupil. They should have jumped when there was height to.

The grey green trainer floated like a bird over the huge plain. Nat dropped the nose and flaps and picked a spot. One time lucky. Earth and plane serenely kissed, a song bird alighting a flower. Nat had done it! They were down in one piece, with no damage. Long Pampas grass cushioned their plane.

Nat's instructor knew she would breeze through flight school. Her next fifteen flights were fun. Dog fights, formation flying and navigation. Then the jet! Did Natalie think engine failure was an attempt on her life? To silence her anti government songs? Would the loss of a flight instructor be acceptable? A bullet in her pretty head would be far simpler. Or the other way.

They who watched her let her fly. When Natalie passed her fast prop course with flying colours, They allowed her to live. For now. She could be used, manipulated and sent to war where she would no doubt die. They ruled like Nazis. Some had been in a previous life.

Fast jets beckoned and Nat moved up to a cool Italian aircraft. Fast looking and stylishly designed. On her first flight Nat knew she would go to war. A gut feeling told her. Her instructor showed her how to evade a fictitious enemy by rolling, turning and diving, then climbing. Finally getting on his tail and killing him. He let her loop and roll the advanced jet.

Thirty more jet flights followed, strenuous in every way. High speed flight was dangerous. Another pilot crashed. Finally Nat passed and got her wings. At the passing out parade, she was told what warplane she would fly. It was the American A-4B Skyhawk. Natalie wanted the fast French Mirage but so did everyone else. Now she was committed, personal thoughts or not.

Letters in Wartime

Letters in Wartime
Words on paper
Nothing more
Telling the story of a soldier
Or airman or sailor
Letters from the front
Sent home
To a sweetheart
Or family
First read by the censor
Telling of longing to see you
And hardship in battle
Seen thru with determination
And a love of country
Fighting for them
The loved ones
Far from where
He is stationed
Saying about his mates
Some who he misses
Killed in combat
Or worse still
Missing In Action
Maybe the Red Cross
Will locate them
All this told
By words on paper
Stay safe at home
I know the Blitz is hell
But we give it
Back to the Hun
Avoid the talking
About sensitive things
For walls have ears
And aid the enemy
Follow the blackout
I send my love
And will write soon
Next time sending my photo
Till then my dear
Keep the fires burning
We protect our country
With untold valour
We will win
This awful war
Later my love

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47

The manila envelope was full of shit. It stank so fucking much. There was too much of it. One example was this: a tattooed skate boarder was blown away after being severely beaten. He was full of lead. The stitched up bullet holes showed this. There were 6 or 7 in his upper body. It was amazing how the mortician cleaned him up. He looked asleep. And was, forever…

…part of the current mad presidents run in with criminals. These included druggies, robbers, gangsters and a whole lot more. But such things weren’t so simple. Many innocent people got caught up. Rather than admit a mistake, the cops had a way to deal with this. They planted fake evidence, be it drugs, guns or ammo. Along with fake accounts of the cops being fired upon. Of course this did happen, professional criminals had back up and weapons and made the security forces pay dearly, now and again. For the most part the Extra Judicial Killings were just that.

The dead man here was a musician. He thought he was going to sing but instead he was an EJK and blown away. It was a shame his friend was a known dealer and on the ‘List’ of known and wanted and targeted people. So he was collateral damage. This was fine in the eyes of the law, for a dealer had been exterminated. An innocent died, so be it…

…the innocent would no longer skate, be tattooed, drink beer, dance, or anything else. For he was dead. All part of the bad dream that was the Philippine drug war that killed thousands. All wars ended…

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.

ADULT OVER 18 ONLY Blow Me Down Erotic Nick Armbrister

JETTISONING LOWER GONDOLA!

In a Hamburg kink club they were getting it on

The German dom said JETTISONING LOWER GONDOLA!

And released his/her chastity belt to free his tackle

It was free for use and there were many willing folk

Anything went here in the club with no secrets told

There were engineers and hookers and politicians

His lower gondola was red, black and shiny

And it was thermonuclear powered to pack a bang

On the call JETTISONING LOWER GONDOLA!

All eyes were on the big red haired German

With the double fit of kit that was his/her tools

They were a fit for anyone and he/she was so into it

Right now the high energy tunes were playing

And he/she was dancing on the floor

With several scantily clad people who were cool

But not as cool as he/she who was the star attraction

With big alpha male dockers and a mixed horde

JETTISONING LOWER GONDOLA! and it started

On this cold Winter night by the docks in the kink club

JETTISONING LOWER GONDOLA! and the orgasms came

He/she was at it in plain sight using age old skills

To satisfy the clients and be satisfied in return

It was a stunning sight/event and unique each time

His/her tools were Nature's gift to heal the rift

Simply put this was EVOLUTION...

New York New York

The big black man sings all his bitches are coming

As he gyrates with the mic and a girl or three

They're all naked or partly and it adds to the joy

Round and round they go becoming nastier

To one another with more thrusts and grinds

Gyrating with the joy of erotic madness that is NY

For only in this part of New York does this happen

All of them do it rapping and bumping and so much more

Brain Girl

It was said with a murmur and a nod and a wink

The lady gave permission by those subtle hints

Of course there were others the guy couldn't pick up

He just wasn't aware of them with an inability to get it

She was a Uni Grad bird and full of brains and more

With her own language to get her way in bed

Three levels above the her lover and two above me

She was something else with ebony skin and black eyes

Her homeland could be New York or Africa or elsewhere

Some thought she was from New Zealand or Brazil

Most liked her and some wanted her while all respected her

Due to her simple honest use of language and her quiet way

To communicate with those gentle hints that made all the difference

It took a man of equal intelligence and honesty to interact

Very rarely was it equal such was her skills and capability

Her PHDs and linguistic skills were an example of her

As were her academic brains in the bedroom with her men

Here she was queen and always got her way no matter what

Craving and working towards total satisfaction and fulfillment

To state it simply she was fucking awesome inside and out and in bed