Thursday 17 March 2011

Op. Disappointment.

Op. Disappointment.

Tension Evaporates, Leaving Indecision Cold
hanging, as condensation on pressurised pipes
trunking away their business inches from ratings noses
' Might we embolden our selves in Valletta on the lash?
So drunk on cheap ale, we shall have Maltese crosses for our eyes
with Banyans near Limmassol with Aphrodite-esq charms
or Gully Gully men, fishing after us cash
or will there be proud Sicklebills, guarding horizontal palms? '

' Perhaps, afterwards, if we take the long way home
After the master gunner releases all his cordite
when Magic has dispensed with our Ray-dome
when the evolutions end,
post-mortem of our impoverished enemy
to the Maldives or Singers if we're lucky Pusser,
might us send
but deaf will be gun damaged ears if you plea
To Enthusiastic Lunatics Itemising Charts

That we really aught to be taking more Aircraft
& their Carriers, Destroyers, more of everything really
not just ships, but countries, too.
Why are the Canadians sitting this one out?
what does Ottawa know, we don’t?
Iberian commandoes and old NATO kit nearly
makes us feel confidant, as bombers ordnance lay
but Lo Siento, pero
Todo Es Loco y Ilógico a Comprende

Meanwhile, deals for lucrative fusion in the pissoir
our Entente strained with Gailic army on strike
plotting as Brutus in ancient spa
Their 'Brave Boys' are only tracksuit wearing scum
like

Tous lEs anglais Leur Infanterie sont des Crétins

Ship me somewheres East of Suez, where the best is like the worst
cried empires laureate
with out the shadow of fiscal curse
There will be no rewarding cruises & cold beers to sup
or Flight deck Barbie’s
only 3 weeks work up
then in-to anti flash & full AWD’s
Our six on six off is all that ensouled
      This rotten Operation.....
                                     ..... oh, yeah, shippers, don’t forget to

Tell Everyone..... Leave Is Cancelled

Wednesday 16 March 2011

Epiphany [ part I ]

 
Epiphany [ part I ]
[ painful truths ]

Exaggerated treble pulsed forth from lying larynx
a witless volume of chat on soccer-ball
tactics, women and vile chemical beer links
security in familiarity for peers who maul

my kind mercilessly our temerity
born of minority status,
a liberty exceeded in their eyes, severity
alone might create overdue hiatus

of rainbow pride, duly my cowardly shy
from being outed slowly rots a confused mind
propagating lies automatically sly
covering for a reality where Graecised


Romano buggery is a passion
hidden from their narrow minded view
blinding them all to truth of any fashion
supported through supplying blue

movies, Dutch strength just of girls
duped as readily as all the dumb boys
believing not cute twink blue eyes nor sweet brown curls
with sodomy alloys

rather a fortuitous blessing in good looks
leading to many a poor unsuspecting
lasses tights adorning bedposts where once flux
of satisfaction left me flaccid, erecting

banners of climax impossible, leading
shamefully to threats issued
fast from bitter spitting lips of bleeding
beaten child, should she tempt to be duelled


agonisingly in idle tattle with pals over the veracity of my proud
promiscuity, proffering proof
perhaps, at a first hand level of some deceitful shroud
wrapping a queer in apparel of spoof

hiding such earth shattering secrets she could reveal
& so to hold her tongue, upon her shoulder
needfully grasping, at eye level a glaze of steel
that I in humbling tones, correlate with hiding behind a bolder

Mahdis spitting rounds in some hot dusty land
a child killing hellhole left me half a man
Crying openly she at my equivocated bold last stand
as a hero in the 'stan,


Alas my glorious Naval carer ended
before fake wars had even begun
but ashamed bluff began being blended
back I think, in Ninety One

when my dad went out to Saudi
boasting tough to classmates of his soldiering
as perhaps his skills were dowdy
essential to the tin can plant though his soldering

doubtless was, less honour yielded
honest graft of peace time worker
not near amount of respect fielded
for Britain’s khaki heroes circa

McNabs launch of tall tales from bleak Mesopotamia
attacking columns of lame Republican Guards
bayonets fixed but lost in the snow as a disorientated skier
if he got glory through pieced truthful shards

discarding dishonestly bits where he screwed
everything up royally
concentrating on enhancing heroics brewed
against colleagues and friends disloyally

without a hint of remorse
contrived reasons to answer the self loathing
visiting during lonely, toss filled nights alone force
both of us I'll wager to beg atonement sing

sending shrieking perils of fibs to visit
checking lives blighted through cowardly
distortions of events asking " is it?"

Really? Did you? Honestly?

I think not sir, there is nothing in you but contrivance
unmasked now, leave this cruel stage please
next contender to live a life in trance
step up to be publicly destroyed in a squeeze

clench of persona
throttled limp & devoid of exaggeration
clinging only to absolute truths far
stripped of empty brags of self elation

camouflage of our mutual inadequacies
Mitchell and I grovelling that fair fate
might see well to drowning us in seas
which our torrential rain of lies did irrigate

sucked under, submerged  into peaceful sincerity
however, firmly affixed to my tower of fraud
sentinel of a bay carved from improbity
amassed treasures gained by deception I still horde

away living as an inspirational story book
not exposed by any gallant sole
least of all this info. saturated whore who took
me, us, lots of us really, at face value whole

heartedly ready to accept our horrors
believing herself touched by our generations ' Nam
loving her own empathy, wondering does
sympathy for one mean she offsets harm

thousands of miles away paid for by her taxes
blocking guilt trips from departing
halted in cerebral jam, comprehension lapses
engulfed as we all are, we defer starting

questions about mates or lovers integrity
claiming an assumption of candid default
ignoring subconscious shrugs of apathy
for exposé means exposures sludgy salt


preserving racks of similar self aggrandising
tales might rot instead
doubting matters not, reality at her own veneer prising
scared she nods her less than innocent head

apologies once again I issue
at threatening her only child
immitigable weeping repeated now at how flew
an enemy rocket starting surging blazes wild

Billowing thick smoke poured
liberally above small scared faces at blackening windows
orphans in pyjamas to doorways lured
by fresh air but felled in dozens as a Talib mows

them down, silenced only in deafening stammer
after my working parts remain recoiled
smoke creeping around benign hammer
struck cases that dealt death I imagine poor souls embroiled

collect to try to sell back to infidel invaders
a ridiculous notion derided by true hero's
promulgated by my own real experiences as instructors made us
pick up our expensive brass as a range officer stows

Figure Elevens away till next time, peacefully
no mortars or death in the air above wet ecru sand
Tamar lapping, all that sully
boots I tell her were ruined with blood spilt by my hand.


Once again caressing tensed shoulders
soothing authority hoaxes recreate
that trust so sought after by vulnerable rovers
in those they unwisely end up inveterate

hoping all will not come unstuck
dreaming of future bliss
Not with me, though! rather I in some rugged truck
drivers arms enfolded in impassioned kiss

rumbling my loins to life
thoughts of her timid coercion
big round eyes could be mine as I play the wife
to my fantasy's oral insertion

Inked indelibly bulking bicep
tensed a dragon of bright blood red
winks at the once again adoring duped tart who took a step
witless inviting me into her cute, pink bed

still naked both we shall soon dance horizontal
mutually masturbation enough to achieve
stiffness FINALLY! to tickle tonsil
reaming a subordinate cheek with pelvic heave

countered by grasped brunette bunches
reversed role in my minds erotic drive
of me spluttering on hard meat she luckily munches
being the bitch from whence oppression does arrive

choking on phallic indifference
jaw yoked twixt thumb and fore finger
saliva looped from slimy chin, sense
of love long abandoned cum in her

mouth to capture an essence
of sordid yielding
humiliation of rhetoric lessons
resulting in kneeling

before a real man as I was
treating her with my own craved desires
enacting personal fetish because
I'd squirrel away for later memories of moans as semen fires

arching translucent gloop
closed experienced eyes know too well
of stinging pools in corners tough to scoop
or wipe away remains shut fast to quell

no doubt learned pain
my groaning satisfaction curtails
staring at her jism covered boat wishing I maintain
it were mine from a shower of handsome males

giggling she says there you go, your really are a man

grinning down at her disingenuous encouragements
Clean your self up quick as you can

macho narration my reputation cements

alongside manful yarn per combated
dish-dash wearing heathens
unbridled optimism expected
from a girl so dumb even-Stevens

constitutes mock excuses
for threatening her first & only born
such submission only ever produces
abject disrespect leading to bruises that adorn

a blind eye, seeing aye, but dead to reacting
allowing herself to be bullied
'till love to her means a petrified acting
a Schadenfreude of hoping the same happens to her seed

Proving that all men are truly bastards
not that successive generations made terrible
choices, lead into a forest of passion, then lost in the woods
of neglected despair, but never were their minds supple

for escape, for suffrage, for life
with their excuses for laziness
piled up at their feet, they may as well become a Gingerbread Wife
endowed with welts, a measure of her husbands stress

How can one delve into ones troubled soul
to treat such a retch as equal?
this neurosis of mine, my bane, my agony without parole
my undeserved epitaph that carves out my life a dull

whisper in history, never to be remembered with any rancour
any bad deed, any lie, any assault
Fifty years from now, when Mandarin is the lingua Franca
no one will call for domestic abuse to halt

Why then should I abate my immorality?
let her decide when she's ready for emancipation
One cannot co joule a person into their endemic mortal malady
more than they deceive themselves they've no need of an education

as boring sluts like this one do, insisting that Opportunity Knocks
drunken, wailing flat in to a friends karaoke mic at some ungodly hour
insisting "making it's my dream" will never stop the clocks
so it's back to the Rotisserie Chickens, my cum swallowing flower

Loops of fading denim hooked by tattooed thumbs
cover up my partially satisfied loins
Tensing a good strong arm, gratuitous ripple of ab’s sums
up my narcissism perfectly, as beauty essoins

me handsomely away from guilt
With nothing but contempt
again for her, wrapped in her comfort quilt
and 3 day old pyjamas mean this unkempt

harlot allows me the convenience
of departing less fake au revoir
then, Downstairs, from her hanbag sliding a fresh Gas Card and some £1.78 pence
into my pocket, as deep and dark and noir

as my  soul should feel
but to my deity
I should write a letter of appeal
as It’s clearly left me Spiritual Core Free.

[Part II is being written]













Why mums invade rooms


inconsolable intrusion
or valid necessity in homemaking
turning respect on a loom of illusion
to violated occupants legalised entry through breaking

some hushed code of nonsense
acknowledged by liberals and chums
ignores the scrimping of pounds and pence
allowing for vitals, tax and rent to be paid by our mums

whose definition of a dissection of privacy
to her were the hundreds of cries of hunger,
thirst or sensitive soiled nappies that would see
mum run from a deities call to tend her chigger

needy until it suits them, then rude
demanding respect! "I nursed you from my own swollen chest,
have seen you crying & nude
yet this "privacy" we must obey at your bequest

fails to include wardrobing your freshly laundered
tracksuits & Tee's
and anyway you ungrateful growth, whilst I've got them cornered
I can check your socks for fleas.

From hence-forth, your whinging shall cease
when messrs Johnson & Johnson are still the only men
putting in the elbow grease
alongside dutiful cleanser of your fetid pen! "

Simple oratory leaves
Kevin dismayed, for Janet, 37 of Kettering in Vol.42. Issue 9 of Escort
he precociously grieves

' pour cette seule raison - je vais finir ma vie - et d'être morts' 

Tuesday 22 February 2011

Foetal almost.....

As curved as a butchered kidney
foetal almost
or childlike at least
ignorant of the rage surrounding him

Dull against the thunderous ball that tracks him
are panicked, desperate cries for his crawled return
so dull he missed them all
deafened perhaps by the last of his own coursing blood

Foetal almost, his form as immobile
as a fossilised shrimp
petrified by time, not copper jacketed menaces
drilling into sun baked ground around him

Had his tympanic torn?
then again, no one hears the round that kills them
foetal again now, but still born
wreaths back home shiver limply, compared to his glorious spent brass anadem

Returned.

Return my love
Surrender to my auto centric world
With crinkled nose of displeasure
at painful insults hurled
Invest, invest did I nothing but pure heart and treasure
 
Return our love
Avast the sailing of a low tide of briny drops
Curtaining the window of demure emotion
Lest dew should worry plumb cheek tops
Questioning my utter devotion
 
Return your love
As per your statutory rights
Gift of a mans soul
Pair of laddered tights
Pseudo contentedness as per, so empty a bowl*

You incessantly blame me for ear bleeding berating
Truth is your love died along with my credit rating
* not very good is it? But stick it in if you like - R.J.

Benefits of benefits

Tracksuit clad youths push a mini motorbike
Steering round a drunk pissing up a red brick wall
Whilst his snot nosed infant throws stones, the little tyke
Wrecks a phone box, despite being only three feet tall.

Needles strewn along the kerb
Boarded up houses still inhabited, the house is cold - the Telly’s hot
Disenfranchised teens sit in crumbling grey bus shelters puffing herb
Communal grass doubles as a junkies improvised cot.

Upon the road in foot high bright white paint
Illiterate drug-orphans scrawled Fuk tha PoliceAwfully rude, yet rather quaint
Pity the support officer sent to proffer peace

A leading artist made us a sculpture here, once
It lasted two hours before the first tags stained
the now corroded loving effort as abandoned as community newsletters printed in comic fonts
Crumpled with an agony of twisted steel ill maintained

Grass that’s rarely ever mown
Cracked tiles, detritus in the holes similar to councillors lame words
Weeds poke between Happy Meals in flower beds overgrown
A thousand miles from pride fuelled suburbs

A crazed mut, worse than rabid patrols
Alongside nineteen year old Tanya pushing her wobbly second hand pram
Slaloming through dozens of ineptly unfixed pot holes
On her way to carry out a refund scam

All of these entertainments distract me not
Swinging the lead, my cost of living’s free
Reclining I survey my decent lot
As for years……. I’ve fiddled the good old D.W.P.

Tales born of designation

Lead spitting cobra thrusting
7 rounds a second
Accurately toward enemy cowering behind rocks busting
2 at a time if needs be, Talibs not quick enough to abscond.

Lubricated lovingly by the oil we protect our be-
9 presence when operating undetected the very ba-
6 of our craft bathed in lunar luminescence
Allowing mothers to know their sons suffered not.
1 at a time. ad infinitum.

Lightning white hot & molten too quick for diving to ab-
8 their chances of being struck, no medic could re-
5 splintered torso, tumbled rounds or deceptive
Angled glances.
2ward them snake paths of ball rocketing dirt above
Immobile killers prepared to be scared of death again
Without inept shame their masters reek of.

Hot headed
& eager to engage infidels
Killing their weak bodies whilst
Liberating deluded minds, my prophets bloodlust quells
1ton destructions morbid ache.
7ty yards away behind a berm, a sweaty Mahdi swaps magazines
Alarmed at the calm Tom's grasp of technology (just a generation before
2berculouses claimed an uncle) undoubtedly a man by his late teens,
Umbrellas of floating fire leave Terry cowering helpless at his friends loud drama
Galvanised in blinding phosphorus
Lighting the path to Allah.