Berlin Tokyo War Hearts live poem set

my ongoing tour of my new book was a live set of poems in Isis cafe, Levenshulme, Manchester on June 25 2012.  my book is out on lulu.com, look for Berlin Tokyo War Hearts by Nick Armbrister... i'll next be live at Gullivers, Manchester on july 5.

 

Natalie. Forsaken

What They did to Nat's three friends was terrible. Abducted by the authorities in the middle of the night, taken against their will and ending their young existence. Hours of torture to get any info, put onto a plane and then...

Filipe was lying in his mother's arms. A caring embrace. No bond was stronger than a mother's and her child. Especially Catholic. Soon it would be time for his bed time story, after his nap...

Suddenly Filipe was jerked violently awake, his drug induced dream history. A huge noise over came him and he was so cold.  No sight. What? He was blindfolded and his limbs were bound. What was happening? Waves of unconscious started to drag him under again.

He was aware of men shouting and someone kicked him in the side. It didn't hurt due to the drugs. Before he passed out Filipe felt hands drag him to the noise and a feeling of flying engulfed the young political protestor, then swirling blackness claimed him. The drugs kicked in before the freezing ocean smashed his frail body.

Many perished this way. They were The Disappeared and were shot or drugged and thrown out of aircraft into the ocean, far from land. Filipe and his two female friends were only three among one thousand who were murdered this way, along with tens of thousands more who perished...

Natalie. An End

In 2012 on the thirtieth anniversary of the war, the dispute is still raging on who should own the Falkland/Malvinas Islands. With oil exploration in the area, both sides need to come together and talk.

The Argentine military junta started a war that killed almost a thousand people. This must never happen again. Never mind the tens of thousands of The Disappeared who were murdered for being a threat or having an opinion or different views or for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Natalie is a character of my imagination but in Argentina and in Britain and in every country upon this world, Nat has brothers and sisters who say NO to war and repression. Let Natalie’s voice always be heard and never ever silenced.

For Natalie, warrior woman turned warrior of peace.

Eclipsing Karin’s Fracture

Fracture lines of frantic events. Pretty little German girl named Karin Ulbricht. Leipzig late 1989, events so much bigger than just a mere pretty beautiful little lady. Daring to demonstrate for freedom, do you FUCKING know what you’re doing? Do you? Chasing a dream, not knowing what it is. 

BUT YOU FEEL IT IN YOUR BONES.

And know that you’re right, being in Leipzig, on THAT night. Voicing your opinion by your actions and words, you and your friends. Oh when I saw you on TV voicing your version of that night, I was caught in your rapture. I tried to find you and failed. My postcard with a Spitfire seaplane on, addressed to you in Dresden, remained unanswered. I so wanted to hear your views and talk to you, you a REAL Cold War warrior. A heroine of peace and freedom.

Dear Karin, do you know what would have happened if a single gunshot had destroyed the peace that night? What happened when you were all arrested and taken to the barracks in Leipzig, gals separated from guys? You could have all been murdered. Nazi and Stassi style. For what, peace?

All I know is that on TV you looked heartbreakingly pretty. Tell me my dear warrior woman, what date was you interviewed? Are you still as pretty and brave and vulnerable? Do I dare chase an impossible silly dream of being your friend and more? Two awful World Wars and a Cold War, Karin. Don’t you know, I’m part German?

My Pagan Goddess will bring you to me, if fate and destiny allows it. Peace my dear angel.

 

Berlin Tokyo War Hearts is Nick Armbrister's new poetry book.

Berlin Tokyo War Hearts is Nick Armbrister's new poetry book. Various events inspired this book: the tragic death of a precious lady called Lynette; study of the Falklands/Malvinas War; and Nick's journey through life. Nick's new work is published here for the first time in a collection. Both creative and dark, it includes Nick's Natalie series of poems that follow the journey of an Argentine Air Force pilot, Natalie, through battle and peace. Other work includes musical and aeroplane themed pieces. Nick wanted to create something beautiful. Did he succeed and keep darkness hidden?

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/berlin-tokyo-warhearts/12900319

Say

THEY say make love not war.                                                                                                                         
I say THEY have no idea of what they’re talking about.

They think I’m mad due to the way I am and my interests of Goth/alternative music, tattoos, study of war/history/aircraft and love of art/tattoos.                                                                                                                                                                         
I say I’m not mad.                                                                                                                                           

I’m cursed/gifted with an ability to see many things I don’t want to and to put it into poetry.                         

And every day this responsibility of my talent drives me down.                                                                                 

Asking why brings no answers.                                                                                                                  
It’s what I have to do...

Event

Now I know how wrong war in the world is and murder on our streets. It won’t ever change or stop.                                                                                                                     
You see, it’s the way we are.                                                                                                                     
Maybe it’ll stop on the next genetic step/human level in our development. Like with the so called grey aliens who are meant to have a collective mind.                                            

I bet they can make war, imagine an F-16 shooting at them with an AMRAAM missile lol. Bye bye F-16. War of the worlds motherfucker.                                                                                                                              
Give me more beer...

my mad poems links here.

http://www.shoemusicpress.com/nefariousballerina/she/she-contents.html
http://queenvicknives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/05/10-pieces-of-writing-by-nick-armbrister.html

my craaazy fuckin poems lol. enjoy.

my ebooks on apple store...

http://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/nick-armbrister/id469211520?mt=11 my ebooks on apple store...

HEIGHT (wrote at Hay Festival, Wales 10/06/2012)

HEIGHT (wrote at Hay Festival, Wales 10/06/2012)

I ask why do I love you Ruth?

We've never met nor made love while gazing into each other's eyes.

Mirror to your soul.

What would it feel like to hold you close and have your hair obscure my vision,

as I breath in the scent of you?

Triggering something so deep inside me that I forgot it ever existed.

It's broken and neglected,

taken over by a dark loneliness and a blood sodden inner despair starved of love.

Slicing through my soul.

You Ruth, heal all that and replace it with everything, yourself.

I no longer am alone or feel death is a release.

Now I have more than mere words and art tattoos to live for.

I will never ever see the wrong gal again, like in 2005.

I see our magic spider’s web connecting us together.

Our hearts are a mirror.

Now I have no more sorrowful tears of blood.

My heart is a cloud and you a summer wind,

blowing all badness away.

In return there is placidity and eternal infinite joy.

Now you found me Ruth,

please don't ever forsake me.

Forlorn no more. Xxxx

Sky Wheel

Sky Wheel
Big sky wheel from heaven rolls over the land squashing houses and people and cities and families. Sky wheel doing its business from who knows where. A trail of loose house bricks that once were human dwellings. Now rubble. Where are the people? Under the boot of the sun wheel, totally fucked. Who sent this kilometre diameter circular thing to Planet Earth?
Wrecking everything by squashing it till its dusty particles blown by the wind. No more life here or anywhere. Just a squash head sky wheel going round the block, again. Coloured like a sea shell, multi spectral haze of eye watering iridium from outer space. On Earth doing mad damage, your home and mine totally bolloxed.
Military jets buzz the wheel and bomb it, chipping the surface but not halting it. Each jet is hit by small wheels spewed from Mother wheel. Dead. Dwelling squashing continues, unabated. A culling of certain humans, facts only known now. Men killed, women left in peace. One lab for genetics. Man is obsolete.
Ruth kicks the wheel over. It's over. For now.

my new poem verse tat

FLAMES ARE TEARS. TEARS ARE FLAMES, TILL THE BITTER END... my new tattoo poem in my own writing done by matt, apprentice at banana juice near park cake bakeries. for a gal ill always love. we had 2 chances to be together and it went wierd. not over yet... i dont understand why. also my tat has many meanings and is for other ppl too, not just me. it can mean see it thru to the end, follow your passion etc etc...

my D-Day poem is in here...

http://www.lulu.com/shop/walter-ruhlmann/d-day-68th-anniversary-anthology/paperback/product-20170154.html im in here...

JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER FRONTIER TOWN

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister/junipers-daughter-frontier-town/paperback/product-16946947.html

JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER FRONTIER TOWN

By Nick Armbrister

A novel following up Juniper's Daughter The Final War by Nick Armbrister. In a world full of violent gangsters, secret intelligence operatives, a shady witch called Juniper's Daughter, dark Goths and many other erotic characters, all are set for a showdown with the much vaunted English Army who is intent on invading and wiping them all out. The war rages on and the struggle continues in a world where poodle dogs have laser beam eyes and machine guns fire nuclear bullets. Science fiction meets the near future in this raunchy tough story of madness and dark humour. Set in a ficticious town called Renford in a war ravaged land, this story is an intimate look at one version of the future. Will people be nice to one another or will the Devil and death sweep the land?

At the other end of the scale, a rifle had been ordered to be produced by another private person, again under secrecy and hush-hush with no questions asked for a large fee of traded goods. The rifle was three times more powerful than the specially built handgun, which in itself was four times more lethal than a normal nine-millimetre pistol. No special carvings were on the barrel; this was pure chrome firing a fifteen-milli bullet made of solid tungsten that was armour piercing and had a range of up to two miles. This gun was called the Buffalo Gun because the owner wanted to go and shoot new genetic man made buffalos in New America when it was ready; rich customers paid up to a million credits a head to hunt and kill genetic buffalos. Man had exterminated the real natural buffalos over a hundred years ago; scientists had taken over the role of god and invented a new modified genetic buffalo for hunting and blood sports. This was more money for the fascist all-powerful New American government who wanted all of the credits they could get.

   The Buffalo Gun was a real motherfucker; a banana shaped magazine slotted into the top and held twenty huge 15mm bullets that were the biggest to go into any modern rifle. A massive muzzle break made the recoil more manageable so the firer wouldn’t have a broken shoulder, now a teenager could fire this wicked weapon with ease. An option of an electronic palm reader was offered that ensured only the owner would be able to fire the rifle, he didn’t want anyone to steal his thunder. The price was secret but it was expensive, not paid in money but in other valuable commodities like gold, diamonds and jewellery to name just the obvious.

   BJ was able to make a new weapon every two weeks when working on his own, his son helped with the minor jobs. He liked to keep his skills secret, teaching his son the most basic skills but he was a realist, he knew one day he would die and then his business would be left to his only son. So soon he would have to start training and educating his lad in the ways of the professional gunsmith, this was an art that had to be kept alive by passing on the knowledge in the secret art of weapon making from design to manufacture to providing spare parts. Being selfish was good because it kept one’s secrets close to ones chest, in the event of an accident the same secrets died a death, lost forever. BJ’s son would soon be more than just a helping hand.

im on WRITE OUT LOUD

http://writeoutloud.net/profiles/nickarmbrister im on WOL