Friday, 28 February 2014
JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER is needed now...
JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER is needed now...
One major example where the witch changed humankinds’ destiny was averting WW3 in the winter of 2009. Georgia and the Ukraine were in NATO, new member states under the protective security umbrella. Russia had attacked Georgia in summer 08 and defeated the tiny nation, occupied its land under dubious reasons and caused general trouble. Loss of four warplanes was worth the long-term strategic goal – Russian troops on Georgian soil at two separate areas before the nation joined NATO. Leaders planned and waited, Georgia supported the Allies (USA and England) in Iraq with two thousand troops on peacekeeping duties. NATO membership was the next logical step, US/NATO troops were based at two Georgian bases and US Navy ships docked and used the major seaport as a base. Over the water, Russian Black Sea fleet warships eyeballed the US Navy. Action came sooner than later, an “incident” led to the battle cruiser Peter the Great engaging the USS Ronald Reagan aircraft carrier with cruise missiles and rocket powered torpedoes, sinking it. In return the escorting Aegis class cruiser sank “Peter the Great” and two escorting destroyers. An uneasy pause followed and then Russian planes hit Georgian and US/NATO military bases and other targets in Georgia. What forces survived the attack, in return attacked; Ukraine refused surviving Russian warships docking rights at the leased base at Sevastopol. Russia threatened Ukraine, a NATO member. Ukraine sank every remaining Russian vessel and occupied the crew barracks, arresting all Russian military personnel on land. Russia hit Ukrainian targets; US/NATO hit Russia at selective points, then a pause to talk. Nuclear war was a possibility when the talks broke down, missiles were armed and several were launched – a total of 6 by NATO and 4 by Russia. Then, nothing! They never reached their targets, rumours spread like wildfire of UFOs, lights in the sky and ghostly apparitions had something to do with the disappearance of the nuclear missiles. An uneasy peace descended, remaining for decades after; did anyone know what really happened? Where the missiles went? Something strange had happened, when the remainder were ordered to launch, all remained in their silos. Was it computer problems? Why had manual overrides fail? No human knew but a witch called Juniper’s Daughter did. She was too late to stop the English/French nuclear war but she won the big one. The Devil won the later round in 2013, she in 2010. If it was her Mother Juniper if would have been a different matter, the Devil would be kicked in the balls every fucking time but that wasn’t the case.
One major example where the witch changed humankinds’ destiny was averting WW3 in the winter of 2009. Georgia and the Ukraine were in NATO, new member states under the protective security umbrella. Russia had attacked Georgia in summer 08 and defeated the tiny nation, occupied its land under dubious reasons and caused general trouble. Loss of four warplanes was worth the long-term strategic goal – Russian troops on Georgian soil at two separate areas before the nation joined NATO. Leaders planned and waited, Georgia supported the Allies (USA and England) in Iraq with two thousand troops on peacekeeping duties. NATO membership was the next logical step, US/NATO troops were based at two Georgian bases and US Navy ships docked and used the major seaport as a base. Over the water, Russian Black Sea fleet warships eyeballed the US Navy. Action came sooner than later, an “incident” led to the battle cruiser Peter the Great engaging the USS Ronald Reagan aircraft carrier with cruise missiles and rocket powered torpedoes, sinking it. In return the escorting Aegis class cruiser sank “Peter the Great” and two escorting destroyers. An uneasy pause followed and then Russian planes hit Georgian and US/NATO military bases and other targets in Georgia. What forces survived the attack, in return attacked; Ukraine refused surviving Russian warships docking rights at the leased base at Sevastopol. Russia threatened Ukraine, a NATO member. Ukraine sank every remaining Russian vessel and occupied the crew barracks, arresting all Russian military personnel on land. Russia hit Ukrainian targets; US/NATO hit Russia at selective points, then a pause to talk. Nuclear war was a possibility when the talks broke down, missiles were armed and several were launched – a total of 6 by NATO and 4 by Russia. Then, nothing! They never reached their targets, rumours spread like wildfire of UFOs, lights in the sky and ghostly apparitions had something to do with the disappearance of the nuclear missiles. An uneasy peace descended, remaining for decades after; did anyone know what really happened? Where the missiles went? Something strange had happened, when the remainder were ordered to launch, all remained in their silos. Was it computer problems? Why had manual overrides fail? No human knew but a witch called Juniper’s Daughter did. She was too late to stop the English/French nuclear war but she won the big one. The Devil won the later round in 2013, she in 2010. If it was her Mother Juniper if would have been a different matter, the Devil would be kicked in the balls every fucking time but that wasn’t the case.
Thursday, 27 February 2014
A Memory of Schooldays
A Memory of
Schooldays
Cargoes
Quinquireme
of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home
to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo
of ivory,
And apes and
peacocks,
Sandalwood,
cedarwood and sweet white wine.
Stately
Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through
the Tropics by the palm green shores,
With a cargo
of diamonds,
Emeralds,
amethysts,
Topazes and
cinnamon and gold moidores.
Dirty
British coaster with a salt caked smokestack,
Battling
through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo
of Tyne coal,
Road rail,
pig lead,
Firewood,
iron waste and cheap tin trays.
John Masefield
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
NEARLY THERE
NEARLY
THERE
In less
than an hour it will be 1997.
In this
short time do you remember?
Do you
shrug off the past to make way for the future
or do you hold
on to the dying year
seeing
every minute disappear before your eyes?
On this,
the last day we have been covered by snow
and frozen
by the cold as the old God Cronus turns
his hour
glass over for another year.
He carries
a scythe in his other hand and has a laugh
that turns
us to dust.
We stand
tall and are proud to welcome the new year.
I remember
my other years falling by the wayside one by one.
I know it’s
wrong to wish away the days
for if we
do we won’t have any left until…?
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Slowly
Slowly
cutting myself to pieces
I become
smaller, less insignificant,
reduce
myself to nothing.
Darkness
glides into my vision,
light lifts
my soul from my desiccated flesh.
Looking
down I see my body and the ruin
of my
civilisation, a hollow shell.
I journey
to gothic solitude,
to a place
called Evenfall.
Monday, 24 February 2014
Circle Tree
Circle Tree
I see a
small tree in the middle of a city sprawl.
Concrete
surround tries to hide delicate green leaves,
rusty iron
railings vie for rain to rust arm thick trunk. Support.
A finger up
to Man’s straight lines and dirty office blocks.
New green
leaves spring forth in Spring,
trying to
live in a seasonless place.
I sit under
thin sparse leaves wondering
if any more
trees will ever be here?
To end this
loneliness and make a pair,
be almost
human. Breed, family?
You just
need yourself, not more trees.
An island
of a single tree, here in the city.
One symbol
of my Pagan religion, of life.
Not to your
capitalist money grabbing ways,
mobiles,
filofax, fast car and more in your ineffective
short life.
Cut this
tree down, it will live on in mine and people’s memories.
“Look,
that’s where that tree was all on its own, I remember it now.”
A Bit Rude
A Bit Rude
When I was driving on the road I met a bus driver who was a
real mad chap. He turned the air blue at my driving when I cut him up.
I stopped my car to remonstrate with him my blood was up.
Not the only thing that was up.
As he stepped down from the bus I was so shocked!
He had just a white shirt on and fluorescent green rubber
underpants with the spike on the inside.
A hideously big bulge poked from the front and I turned to
run, glancing over my shoulder. He was gaining on me!
He held a big black whip.
Crap! I’ll never cut up a bus again!
If I get outa this with my ring piece intact...
Northern Steel
Northern
Steel
Hard as nails break the hammer Oldham boy made man 9year
old.
Taught karate by his cousin two broken ribs the price.
Old coz sez no contact you busted my ribs.
Yet ain’t it meant to be real?
Been in two Persian Gulf wars got 5+20 kills.
Joined NATO war keepers when Central America crashed got 3k
kills then all verified. Now got my own business selling taxicabs with armour
plate.
No fun here just tough water run readies.
Everyone needs transport in this Mad Max 21century world.
In a time of war brave men dug in made the north a fortress.
Preparing for the next war that was already upon them.
Sunday, 23 February 2014
me live at the ring of bells pub in middleton reading from my new books...
Wrong Career
I was young and worked in a garage. I was in the wrong job, aged 17. Why did I end up there? Was it fate punishing me for not joining the RAF? Other people thought I’d be good at fixing cars. I wasn’t; I was barely ok. Think of quiet me in a real man’s world. It was a daunting thought and there I was.
It was ok at first but soon went wrong. Trying to take a Volvo’s bumper off. Two hours later, still on the car. I ended up sweeping the floors, doing the brews and getting the butties. The duties of any green YTS employee or apprentice. Cheap labour. I hated working in garages thru those formative years when I was off the rails.
What else could I do? What can you do when you’re 17? It’s a big question, what to do with your working life, not to mention the rest of your life. I stuck it out. Got depressed, was bullied, raced cars on the streets, had crashes. Was a real fuck up. Worked in three different garages and hated them all. Other bad shit happened, I fought off suicidal urges. Darkness engulfed me.
Music saved me. Took my mind off the bullies in a garage that no longer exists. I became a goth and embraced who I was, bad parts and all, in those distant dark troubled days of mine. Now I look back, it wasn’t all doom and gloom. It made me a man who is worldly wise. I’d say to my younger self, Nick don’t go fixing cars. Pick up a pen and write. Like I do now. My lifeline thru my years.
GALLOWS
GALLOWS
Wet dawn morning rain dripping on sombre scene
low clouds distilling all colour to grey.
No warmth or hope or peace of mind.
Count down approaches creeping death
as workers test the gallow’s string, new white rope up,
haul heavy sacks of grain to test it – dead weight.
In his cell a condemned man is brought,
he didn’t sleep much. His last day on earth,
wheels of justice grinding inexorably onwards.
His crime was carried out, his thoughts don’t matter
only what will result, eventual outcome.
A crowd gathers in bad weather, worth the rain
to see a ruffian die for his sins.
In ones and twos adding to a dozen to a hundred they wait.
Here he is, led by the law, hands bound, free in his own eyes.
Up the ladder to the platform, hangman places the noose
around his long exposed neck. Offer of a blindfold
is accepted, no last words. A minute wait, then drop!
Trap door opens, man falls down, rope becomes taught,
neck is snapped, life becomes death, justice is done—
crimes repaid tenfold.
What would the victims think if they could view this?
Saturday, 22 February 2014
Korea’s Ticking Time Bomb
Korea’s Ticking Time Bomb
North and
South Korea at arms race heaven,
a massive
number of weapons all waiting to be used –
tanks, guns
and bombs.
One war was
enough but nearly fifty years have passed
and so it’s
time for another.
North uses
Migs and howitzers, South uses F-16s
and cluster
bombs all stockpiled at warehouses and airbases.
Have these
people lost their minds?
Making law
with the barrel of a gun
thinking
that they are gangsters at an international level.
This is
Korea’s ticking bomb,
with North
being the explosive and the South the fuse.
PASSING
PASSING
Each generation has its
war, years change widows are made, mums cry over lost sons, countries names
change. Death is final guns spit bullets explosive discharge. I don’t
understand why we never learn; we must have a war make new jets, more accurate
bombs. What of the future? When we go to the stars? War in space. For now our
military's in Iraq & Afghanistan. When an end? Only the year changes,
passing... I watched All Quiet on the Western Front, it’s a good powerful film
though Ernst Borgine’s a yank. No Airwolf?
Friday, 21 February 2014
IRANIAN CORROSION
IRANIAN CORROSION
A sense of old age, a sense of corrosion.
All of this nasty metal, when you touch it,
it makes a weird noise.
You can feel it all over the city.
Every metal object is corroded.
And in this city of metal
even the people are corroded.
You can feel the humidity
getting into your body.
Together
Together
For
Christmas she got me a small present that she said I’d like.
She told me
about the present, my present. I remember only bits
now and I
have only hazy memories of how it made me feel,
an empty
shell of what held all the potential fun. All this in a small gift
wrapped in
a single mauve ribbon.
A secret
burst forth, here in this box was the secret to stop
all the
wars and conflicts with man, human kind – international and personal.
All I had
to do was to open it at midnight plus one on Christmas day.
But I have
a confession to make. Instead of meeting God and being a saviour
of the
world, I blew it. I lost the present on the way home,
where I
don’t know. I had three too many beers and now I feel bad.
I lost my
present on the way, our present. I know I’ll never find it.
Was it like
a dream? Yes. Did I blow it all? To save ourselves and our world?
Was I a
potential new messiah? Fate was kind to me, I never wanted the hassle
or
responsibility. So we have to be careful. Don’t bring the red button
anywhere
near me… we do it the real way, together.
NOT PAYING
NOT PAYING
Bought a bomb shelter cheap,
cost me next to nothing at the auction.
Once in it they would never get me out,
not as long as they want to make me pay.
Fifteen years of poll tax to keep them bastards in power.
What do they know of the struggle of the common man?
Keep the wolf from the door by all and every means.
Got me 30 years of food and my own keys –
locked my own door from the inside out.
No authorities here!
PMs came and went, Thatcher, Major, Blair and…
Tried to make me pay but they failed,
Got six feet of concrete and two feet of steel
Between me and them.
If I pop out for daylight to see the sun,
Will they be there, waiting, for me to pay my poll tax?
ABOUT PEOPLE
ABOUT
PEOPLE
I know many
people
People I
like, people I hate
Some I’d
die for
Others I’d
kill.
We are all
people.
Yes, you
and me, all the same
Some are
good, some are bad.
Am I to
judge or are you?
Some like
football
Some like
cars
Some like
rugby
Some like
music.
What went
wrong?
When God
created
All of the
bad ones
I thank Him
I wasn’t there.
In the old
days
We were all
the same
But today
John is bad
And David
is good.
One day we
all will be
The same.
You and me,
him and her
That day
can’t be far off now.
Thursday, 20 February 2014
Wednesday, 19 February 2014
WHO WE ARE
WHO WE ARE
We live on our world in the vacuum of space
each and everyone of us alive in their own little world.
Our lives aren’t even an inch in the wall of time.
We do our own little thing sometimes
with not a care in the world, be it making love,
solving problems or declaring war.
If a traveller from afar could watch us,
what would he think? Would he call us animals
or praise us for our intentions.
He might be amazed at the diversity of life
on our precious world.
Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Magic Things
Magic Things
Do you see
magic things like I see?
The
enchanting tooth fairy silently coming
to take
your tooth on a cool spring evening.
A Goddess
of summer dancing majestically
over
sunbaked land, her golden kiss bringing
flowers to
the trees.
An eagle of
the autumn equinox signalling
the start
of decline as leaves fall earthwards.
And snowy
angels of winter sowing white
snow over
the land in a crisp layer of coldness.
These are
some of the magical things I see
as I watch
our seasons pass.
Monday, 17 February 2014
ANGELS DOWN
On broken wings and failing engines the plane
starts to die,
eleven people are at God’s mercy as it hits
the ground in a shattering
impact smashing limbs and machinery as if was
paper.
Through the flames people scream and by the
chance of time
and coincidence a man is there to help.
He drags two people clear in terrible pain.
The rest burn and scream
before him – he can’t beat the flames and at
risk of his own life
he stopped to help.
In a terrible tragedy five young air
stewardesses perished in agony,
such a waste of youth and beauty when a plane
went wrong.
CLOCK WATCHING, AGENCY CUNTS
CLOCK WATCHING, AGENCY CUNTS
Numerous times I have joined a work placement agency
to do a mind numbing brain dead moron work,
been on the poverty line. Hard up, broke.
Take your documents in, sign on the dotted line
and you belong to us right now. Send me to a crap place
with crap people for crap money for a crap agency.
Staff UK sent me to Constellation Luggage in a run down
Victorian cotton mill, £3.60 per hour. Sorting out suitcases
busting your balls emptying cargo containers,
stacked floor to ceiling, from Red China.
Up to three separate places on as many days
when I worked a week. If the cunts have not paid me
the week later, where was I at? At Fashion Logistics
sorting out clothes; you can’t even take a shit
without the cunts interrogating you.
Don’t like it there? Walk home down the motorway
from Castleton to Oldham, be picked up by the Old Bill, taxi!
To Rescource agency, to be placed at Bernstein plc, Middleton.
A real flat pack shithole! C’mon you cunts! First the bits flat
into the boxes, have to beat the record! Xxx many thousands,
beat the other line! You lad, who me? Yes, you! You havent put
the piece in flat, we had to stop the line. Fuck you,
I don’t give a fuck, I’m only here coz they won’t give me my dole.
I left another shit job – Park Cakes mental asylum.
I eye up all the birds all day and listen to the radio, c’mon 4pm!
Agency cunts at Rescource agency even charge me £3 a day
for the privelage of going to their crap job. The boss is okay, short
skirt
and bare legs, I’d fuck it. Late night drinks in Manchester for this
Yorkshire bint.
I waited one and half hours once to be picked up, at 5.30pm—
guess who drove thru the gates to the small pond/nature reserve
in her Pug206? Kerry to meet her fuck, didn’t give a toss about me.
Then my lift came, bitch, no doubt as your fuck came up you, Bernstein plc
style.
After that shit I went on the dole for nearly a year, 2001.
My, it was a sweet time paid for doing fuck all but my book “Juniper’s
Daughter”.
I did other agency work, same old shit but cash went up slightly.
Real shitholes like Shiloh (shithole) by Primetime Placement agency,
primetime pricks. The gelled up prick in a shirt who drove a new Golf said to
me:
“We have a cushy (crap) job, we can’t seem to fill it. Not sure why?”
(You should try this, you puff). I lasted two weeks, I wonder why?
Packing nappies for Welsh pensioners, shitty arsed gits! Guess what? I
packed
all the wrong ones on purpose, how funny is that?
I worked with a professional Bangladeshi gang member who was going
straight,
after killing a man in a car crash, a psycotic metal head
and a burned out 30-year-old ex-rocker. My boss was a cunt,
he told me off for swearing on my first morning, the fuckin’ wanker.
Guess what I did? Went on the dole again and stayed there
three long povery stricken lazy years doing my poems in my mouldy council
flat.
Did a bit more agency work with Esprit agency at DTS—that was okay.
I loved working with the girls, some hot ones there! I used to wank
over them when I got home. Last agency work I did was crap
in more ways than one, moving shit for Epping council at Cory Enviromental
with New Wave agency, Aug and Sep06. Finished that, onto the dole again,
not in smelly Oldham but in posh Essex! How I’ve moved up in the world.
Been on it four months now, no new job. What will I do next?
More crap agency work? I’m registered with Blue Arrow, Triangle,
Adecco and one I forget. Not got a single day’s work, what does that say?
All fuckin’ crap! Run by southern pussies.
I won’t mention my temp to perm crap jobs that weren’t agency
but here’s a taster – Littlewoods, Glyn Webb and Dunelm come on down!
I nearly forget, one agency put me down as a fork lift truck driver
at a shithole hire and fire ’em place called Metool.
Yet I was told I would be a van driver’s mate and then a lorry driver, not
flt.
What the fuck’s going on? I walked out halfway thru my 3rd day…
all crap! The dole is calling…
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