BURIED ALIVE

I ask God to help me but he isn’t listening.

I’ve been buried alive six feet below ground.

My death will be agonising as I start to suffocate.

How did I get here in this terrible place?

Slowly I remember now, what I did.

I faked my own death to escape from prison

but they didn’t release me. So here I remain

running out of air going slowly insane

dying before my time.

new sister erotic ebook - Nick's world of writing

new sister erotic ebook - Nick's world of writing

A Sister's Tale and More Besides By Jimmy Boom Semtex

A Sister's Tale and More Besides

By Jimmy Boom Semtex

Liza is the girl next door type of lady. She lives a simple and rewarding life. Her sports physio job pays well. It also brings opportunities to meet men. As does socializing in pubs and clubs. She also likes the ladies. Join Liza when she parties, works, sees her sister and her friends. Her antics are both memorable and funny. Will she remember her lover's name in the morning? If we all had a sister, would she be like Liza? What would people think? Girl next door or party shocker?

http://www.lulu.com/shop/jimmy-boom-semtex/a-sisters-tale-and-more-besides/ebook/product-22378099.html

Hidden

Call me The Baron. My full name is Nicholas Arthur Armbrister. I bloody hate that name! Do you know how I feel? My first name used when I’m naughty. “Nicholas, you’ve had a new tattoo!”

You must be part German with a name like that. Say it slowly out loud:

A-R-M-B-R-I-S-T-E-R.

They got images of Hitler’s panzers and Blitzkreig, Stukas and goose steps. No denying my heritage, I’m part German, on my dad’s side. Armbrister.

He was in the British Army in World War 2, a Tommie. None of his mates guessed he was part German. Doing his bit for King and Country. His name is Arthur. The middle name I don’t tell anyone. Even today, I’m unsure why? Makes me eccentric – Nicholas Arthur Armbrister – The Baron!

My dad is my best mate. His stories of seeing Manchester in flames, December 1940, when he was in his dad’s car going from Ashton to Oldham, fascinated me. When he was conscripted, I knew he was no German. He saw his army mates die and became a man. How can I compare? Arthur, the name I never use. Known only to me and my family.

Some things are hidden, for hidden reasons. Others are an open book, for me to decide. What would you think if I told you my middle name is Arthur? After my dad. He saw Nazi bombers high over Coppice. A silver speck against the blue. Our gunfire missed by miles. If these same planes had bombed my dad, I’d never be born or called Arthur.

He told me how he collected warm bomb shrapnel, when the Germans did bomb. Memories of an old man, passed down to me. When I’m in Manchester tonight with her, I’ll think, What is it like to see a city burn at night while under enemy air attack?

YES YOU

Come and get me, show me the insides of my body.

What makes me tick? Cut my heart out

and show it beat to me, remove my brain

and cut my belly, put it inside—funny weight problem!

Cut my hands off and toast my fingers,

eat them as snitzels in gravy made from the skin

of my back. Put my tattoos on a lampshade to preserve my art.

Give them to my children to gaze upon in awe.

What will you do to me when I am in pieces, my soul in hell,

you in heaven with my blood on your hands?

Fry my muscles as a fire cooked steak…

don't cancel her gig...

don't cancel her gig...

Imposter
There's an imposter in the house of love. Stealing secrets at intimate moments. The band can't gig. You stop the gig; petty jealousy. Stopping her moving on. Pinning her in your spider's web of deceit. Intertwining her life with a river of lies. There will be no gig tonight. Or anytime soon if you have your way. This is where a warrior of the light comes in.

To utterly break your back and fuck up your fairytale of lies. Are you game to meet him head on and lose? Period. No second chance to stop her house of love gig. You, the spy failure, pretending to be her. Trying to steal her thunder. You did it once. Second time exfinite death, of you.

What do we make of you now? Because of the warrior of light, you hate even more. But not as much as she loathes you. You cancelled her gig once, not again. She learnt how to sing again. How to hold the audience in her hand. And they became one with her, all laughing at you. You, the failure and all things not to be liked in a person.

We don't even need to list your bad qualities. When they heard her song, torches were lit thru her land. She learnt to fly and gave the meek hope. Hope to stand up and fight. Defeating the nasty oppressors and complainers. Ending your tyranny with a song of innocence. While you, you live in a land of shit.

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess

The Humble Maid - Erotic Confessions of a Domestic Goddess

by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Sue kissed the youth and massaged his chest, feeling his shyness slowly go. She worked over his shoulders and chest, down to his stomach. Finally, she tickled his cock. It grew in her hand. They kissed again. He's a very good kisser. A natural who doesn't need to learn.
"I'll go on top. Just lie still and enjoy it. In time, you'll pick up the rhythm to move with me." Sue mounted the son and wanked him. Then she put his eight inch cock up her. He was a good fit. "How does that feel?"
He nodded and replied fine. With that, the maid rode him, keeping her actions leisurely. There was no rush, nobody would disturb them and the house doors were all locked from inside.
Sue was seventeen years younger than the son, who was named Jim. He was a quiet lad who was pampered by his parents and the maid. This gave him little or no opportunities to have a girlfriend or even much time alone. I really can relate to Jim. We're both under lock and key with no free time or lovers. Even if we're both from different backgrounds and have nothing else in common, I feel a great understanding for him. There are ways round the lack of fun, like this. He's a gentle kid and I enjoy sex with him. I've wanted to seduce him for so long.
"That feels great," Jim commented, looking into Sue's eyes.
"Glad you like it," Sue said, holding him close and kissing him. Her movements were unhurried and her touch tender. He responded by moving his hips with her. He's a fast learner.

LOSERS

LOSERS

To all of those unbelievers I say this. “Fuck you all!”

and I look you in the eyes, up close. Now what will you do?

C’mon, fuck face, criticise me and do your best.

I’m better than you, you’re a prick, a fuckin’ nothing.

I’m a writer, the best. A published poet, you’re a prick

and a loser. Tell me, what type of name is Zorca?

A fuckin’ loser’s name! I think of you when I have a shit.

My poems were deleted but I achieved my aim, got myself noticed.

To the ones who liked them, very nice, to those who didn’t,

I say kiss my fuckin’ ass, get out of my face and get some respect.

sister story is getting hotter lol:

sister story is getting hotter lol:
And it was half an hour. She tickled, sucked, nibbled, bit and tormented him. Then his spunk erupted in a white geezer. It went everywhere. He screamed, shouted and acted like a brat. Liza laughed and threw her head back. Her devil outfit gave her a sinister look, as did the gleam in her eye. What were the words she whispered under her breath?

meet Jelma...

An Ocean of Fish

by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2014 all rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-291-93812-8

Jelma looked good with her friend's 'husband' in the photo. It was a selfie. "There's a photo of your handsome husband and me together. We both look good together. What are you going to do about it?"

Sera smiled and replied, "I'm going to fucking kill you!" She laughed madly. As did Jelma who had just sorted out the dress display before the party.

Both girls sat down before it began. It was to celebrate moving their fashion house, Kazuki, into their own premises. Previously they'd been based in Jelma's aunt's house. That was only temporary after Jelma left her previous employer, Washi, run by Michu. A potentially nasty falling out had been averted and it was now time to concentrate on fashion, make stunning dresses and lots of money. And have fun while doing it.

Kaito and Chiyo were there too. They made up the team at Kazuki. Sera was a new employee and long time friend of Jelma's. She was trusted and shared a joint interest in the fashion industry. This made her an ideal employee.

"I'm going to steal your husband off you," Sera joked. Even though Jelma had no husband or boyfriend. She wasn't even dating.The man in the photo was Jelma's friend and ally. He had underworld contacts and was her 'muscle'. His help was important in ending the falling out with Michu and her Washi fashion house. If any trouble arose in future, the 'muscle'would be there. A phone call away.

"Yes, you can try. He'll shoot you," Jelma commented in a neutral voice. They were sat on Sera's veranda. Sera was doing her nails. Jelma drank strong coffee.

"Shoot me with his big love gun?" Sera grinned.

"Yes, with his big love gun. Tell me what it's like before his passion obliterates you," the Kazuki boss said, laughing her head off. The charade was too hard to keep up.

"That would be something. I bet he's a professional in that area, like his 'other business' and besides, I quite like living. Death by orgasm sounds an awful way to die," Sera nodded, with tears of humour on her cheeks. She swore when her hand slipped and the black nail varnish smudged.

"Ah damn," Jelma gushed. "Passion is distracting you."

"Yes, damn. I'll fix it. Hang on..."

Just then Chiyo and Kaito walked out. They brought the girls a bottle of Saki and glasses. "Sounds like you're having a laugh here."

"Oh yes, we are," Jelma said. "Sera here wants my 'husband', she wants to steal him."

"Really?" Chiyo nodded, "Well, he's a good catch Sera. Good luck in your chase."

"Now that I'd like to see," Kaito spoke,admiring Sera's toe nail painting. Like all the girls here, she knew of the'muscle's' potential marriage potential and his propensity for violence against his enemies. And his rumoured 'talents' in bed.

"Yeah, it'll be quite a chase, shame hubby's only make believe." Sera finished the toe she was paining and opened the Sakiand poured two glasses. She handed Jelma one.

"Thanks Sera. Let's toast. To Kazuki and to usall."

"To Kazuki and to us all."

Selda-Dos

I'm a fan of live music, alternative stuff like metal, goth and much more. I'd like to share a venue and band with you. I've spent several good nights there seeing the band live along with other groups. Read on if you want to know more...

In their own words: A one-stop music hub offering a lifetime imprisonment of music!

Selda-Dos

Selda-Dos is a pub/bar/live music venue in Quezon City, Metro Manila area, run by Selena Moon. It's a new venue with varied music nights where music like rock, acoustic and metal is played to a live audience. An example is the Acoustic Indie night held on a Tuesday. Open mic events are also held. Many local and international bands gig there to a packed audience. Sound and light systems are excellent, giving the audience clear music. When live music isn't on, a PA system plays a variety of metal and rock music.

A unique prison type theme resounds through Selda-Dos. This includes cells, complete with bunk/table/chairs for 'inmates' eating their 'last meal', served by orange jump suited staff, before facing the 'electric chair' and a 'height chart' for 'suspects' to be photographed against. A simple but strangely very effective theme for a venue. If you've ever served time or done bird, be warned. The setting is both real and authentic. Of course, entertainment and a fun filled evening is a must. You may leave your mark by marker penning your name on the cell wall. With permission of course. A security guard gives discreet but effective security.

Drinks

Being a bar, Selda-Dos serves a wide range of drinks and food. For example, single bottles of San Mig, Pale Pilsen, Red Horse or Super Dry beer are on sale or buckets. A beer tower is P300. Spirits like vodka cost P50 a shot. Bottles of cola are on sale for non-drinkers. Happy Hour is 7-10PM Monday-Sunday. On some promo nights a free drink is included in the entrance cost. One example is for a Penalty (cost) P75 entry/drink at the Alternative Rock and Blues Behind Bars night. Some shots are on offer too. All prices, including food, are great value.

Food

Meals include starters to main courses and desserts. The menu is long and varied with for example Oxo Gang Pasta with names like Tuyo Will Die. The Murdered Burger is aptly named. Other food is called Robbery, Fraud and Arson. Sausages are of note with Prison Angel Sausage being one example. All the staff are highly trained, professional and courteous. Food is served quickly and arrives hot.

Getting There

To get to Selda-Dos, there are various ways from taxi to jeepney. Google Maps gives an effective route planner there from your location. Other bars nearby give varied evening.

Contact Details

Telephone:  0916 259 5250

Address: Selda-Dos, Visayas Avenue, Tandang Sora, Quezon City, Metro Manila, Philippines.

Ode To LaLuna (OTLL)

One band that plays Selda-Dos is Ode To LaLuna (OTLL). Five members make up this band. Members are: Yue - Drums, Iah - Guitars, Sin - Bass, Selene - Keyboards and Ishtar - Vocals. People need to know what a band sounds like and music wise they are Goth/Dark/Symphonic Metal/Heavy Metal. But those are labels. Talking of labels, OTLL are on Inner Circle Production record label. Make up your own minds and enjoy their songs, as I do. OTLL is an excellent band of talented members. They can be booked for gigs, functions, weddings (they gigged my wedding) and more.

Music includes their own songs off an album, Moonbreak, or their new forthcoming release which is out soon. The greatly moon inspires the band and their music. Various cover versions are in their repertoire including Lacuna Coil through Metallica and Paramore much more.

Promotions

Various promos will take place in 2015, for example Alternative Rock and Blues Behind Bars night. A promo on production events, special occasions and VIP/function room reservation with new affordable rates is available. To also collaborate with Selda-Dos on production events, call 0915-4335264 or 0915-2595250.

Selda-Dos Recording Studio

A 2nd floor recording studio is available to hire. With the Early Rehearsal Jammers Promo, it's for hire P160 per hour from 3-7PM daily.

Location: 389 2nd Floor, Dona Ignacia Building, Visayas Ave Ext, Tandang Sora, Quezon City.

Telephone: 0977 199 6460 for queries and bookings.

Dark Russia

Dark Russia

It's a historical fact. They wanted freedom and for a time it felt real. But occupying forces occupied some more. Invading them with 2000 tanks and 500,000 men. Soviet style.

100 freedom wanting people were killed.

Their Prague Spring annihilated. Today the Neo Soviet regime made a TV docu. It's like blaming NATO for the 1968 invasion. The docu makers claimed a Nato backed "armed coup" was being planned under the cover of the "legend of peaceful civilian uprising with the romantic name of the Prague Spring". 

early poems

IT ALL STARTED AS FUN

When we were both fifteen years old, just kids, we were messing around with one thing or another. We made a small bomb. It was more of a firework, really, all sparks and heat.

We did this all for fun, then we blew up a phone box with a pipe bomb, two years later.

That was a laugh, two kids being idiots. Soon we went our separate ways, ten long years ago.

Now, watching the news after coming in from work, I can’t believe it, I saw your face.

A photo of my old friend and a plane down, over 200 dead.

Oh fuckin’ god, this cant be true. Did you do it? Really, did you bring down the plane?

DREAM SUNLIGHT

A twilight sun shines down colouring the sky with every shade of colour from red to black, blowing your mind away.

We drive our car over the winding moor road, stereo on full blast, eating up the miles like it was fading to zero.

Our car is old but we are young, in our prime, enjoying life, making every moment go on forever.

We come to the town, all quiet in the coming darkness.

I think of how many people have walked over the town square, how many have kissed, fought, dreamed…

Then we are away, leaving the town behind…

ENDLESS SUMMER

This is the endless summer of our youth

a time of music and of fun.

A time of blue skies and cold beer

in pubs in the country.

The sky is always free of clouds

and we fall in love, so heart achingly, to last forever.

Special times, trips to the coast.

It is a time for you and me.

Our friends are always there for us

when we see music festivals, song for our lives.

I met you in a bar, we walked barefoot

through the sand, in our own world.

We may grow older but we’ll

never forget the times we had,

in that endless summer so long ago

in our youth, passionate young lives.

SPITFIRE BRIDE

SPITFIRE BRIDE

It was long ago in a time of war when I was young,

I can’t believe it was part of my life, but yes it was, that I’m sure.

You see, I was a Spitfire bride due to be married later that day.

He flew before dinner and got two bombers. I was so proud –

my man was a fighter pilot at only 21.

As they flew off again I couldn’t wait to see him again

but he never came home –

he died by a Messerschmitt’s guns.

He has no known grave except in the summer skies of long ago.

I never did love again – I’m hoping one day he’ll come home.

Till then I’m a Spitfire bride.

Rainbow

Rainbow

Come and run out to see the rainbow
that has suddenly appeared.
Look at those colours, all blue, greens and reds.
Literally the colours of the rainbow.
It’s fading now as the rain stops
and the sun burns it away.
Shield your eyes to see the falling black shape as the atom bomb drops.
Clouds will come then, mushroom shaped.

Shoki: The Story of Sensei Pete Ratcliff By Nick Armbrister

Shoki: The Story of Sensei Pete Ratcliff
By Nick Armbrister

Sensei Pete: It was a guy I knew. No. It was a guy that knew my sister who was married. It was a guy that my sister’s husband was friends with. I can’t remember the name of the club. I’d just got interested. The first proper club was the Shotokan Club in Greenacres.
Nick: Is that where you attended?
Sensei Pete: I attended there.
Nick: What age were you then at that club?
Sensei Pete: Five or six.
Nick: What other Martial Arts do you do and what are they called? Other than just karate. You mentioned Ju Jitsu.
Sensei Pete: I do Ju Jitsu, train in Kobudo which is weapon training, train in Thai Boxing, Kung Fu I’m interested in.
Nick: Have you done belts in those equal to black belt or?
Sensei Pete: No, mainly in just Karate. I just train in them.
Nick: Right. You say you’re interested in Thai Boxing. What have you done in that?
Sensei Pete: I’ve trained in Thai Boxing for a few years, I’ve instructed in Thai Boxing under Mike Duffy at Knuckle’s Thai Boxing Club.
Nick: Where Woz goes?
Sensei Pete: Yes.
Nick: Cool. Right, well that’s answered the other question which is what other Martial Art club types have you attended. That is obviously Thai Boxing and the other ones.
Sensei Pete: Muay Thai.

sky gal

written and sang by me at work lol. check it out...

Sky Gal

I knew a gal who flew in a red plane

Up in the red sun sky

I knew a gal who flew in a plane

Above and over our world

---

Touching clouds, at one with God

There she goes looping and rolling

See her climb and dive

Turn and fly oh so fast

---

Free as a bird, twice as quick

Pretty like  Cirrus cloud

Ethereal as a ghost

One look and she's gone, gal and her plane

---

I knew a gal who flew in a red plane

I knew a gal who flew in a red plane

I knew a gal who flew in a red plane

I knew a gal who flew in a red plane

Kahlia Akasha Jet Strike By Jimmy Boom Semtex

Kahlia Akasha Jet Strike

By Jimmy Boom Semtex

On a hidden beach on a small island in the Andaman group, in the Andaman Sea, a covert mission was being planned for the coming night time hours. A military strike was in the final stages of preparation. Under the coconut trees a single warplane was being prepped for battle. Fuel was pumped into her fuel tanks, electronic systems being checked and weapons being loaded to give her teeth.

   Two flight crew quietly changed into flight gear that included a flying suit with fireproof waterproof protection, a life vest for ejection over the ocean, lightweight Kevlar flying boots, flying helmets with digital display and helmet sight and other equipment, including pistols and ammo. When fully prepared each pilot checked the other’s equipment for errors or problems. Everything had to be correct; there would be no second chances on this deadly mission over an enemy country.

   One pilot was a European white male in his thirties with dark brown hair, delicate green eyes and a slight tan from his time on the uninhabited island. He was six foot tall and in ideal shape. His companion was a young lady, a decade younger and a foot shorter. She moved with the grace and elegance of a dancer or Martial Art expert. Her oriental origins gave her an exotic air. Together they made an odd combination and like the taller man, she wore a wedding band made from green crystal. Were they together in matters of the heart and not just as aircrew? Both gave little information away without a reciprocal price or agreement bordering on a blood contract, such was the nature of their game.

   Several bare skinned men of medium height hurried around the warplane parked under the trees. Empty wooden crates lay unwanted, the contents now hanging underneath the light blue coloured warplane. These weapons would be used over the next few hours on preselected targets and targets of opportunity. The leader of the men approached the tall western pilot and conversed in low tones of broken English. Both men walked over to the aircraft. The oriental, recruited from a neighbouring island, stood aside while the pilot checked his work. Only if satisfied would the pilot pay the local labour for their efforts. It had to be correct and then the lady pilot would double check. No errors could be allowed. He walked around the plane, his warplane, checking the weapons were firmly on their pylons with umbilical connections linking them to the aircraft in place and not loose. On eight under wing pylons, four either side, the bomb load was a mixed one for maximum destruction and death. Two short range Bright Star air to air missiles on the very outer missile pylons, backed up by two medium range Axe Head radar guided missiles for air combat, followed by two Medusa anti radar missiles to hit enemy radar systems and finally, on the inboard pylons two Saffron anti tank missiles that doubled as good attack weapons. A single belly mounted fuel tank gave us extended range to escape to Thailand after our target runs. Forward of the fuel tank was a twin barrel 23mm cannon with two hundred and fifty rounds of ammo, half for each barrel. A heavier 30mm gun could be carried but the added firepower was negated by extra weight.

   Faintly visible in the darkness Kahlia Akasha looked the same as before but on closer inspection she was a very different beast. Gone was the eight bladed prop and rear mounted turboprop engine of her sister. Replacing this was a single jet engine from a late model Mig 29 jet fighter, slightly modified for installation in the deadly warplane. A longer rear fuselage with engine exhaust and dorsal air intake catered for the new power plant. Performance figures were top secret but included a high altitude top speed of 1,700mph at a height of 65,000ft, a maximum climb rate of 80,000ft per minute and a combat ceiling of 75,000ft. In a zoom climb she had climbed up to 130,000ft, a new official world height record, adding to her speed and climb records established the previous summer. Now she was doing what she was built to do, go to war. She had been updated in a second more deadly version and now she was being readied for battle. A mission to strike terror and fear into the Burmese military and test out their new weapon systems against hers. Kahlia Akasha number two would win, this was a foregone conclusion. It was good to prove the simulations right. In future she would carry a new set of advanced weapons including a small laser weapon replacing her cannon and new missiles and guided bombs. Currently she was armed with the same reliable weapons of her prop driven sister, along with the same Topaz radar with added air to air modes for air superiority duties, making full use of her superior performance. Her speed was almost triple that of her sister and her climb rate was ten times more. The airframe was strengthened at critical places like the wing root, fuselage, tail plane and weapon pylons. Wing skins were increased in thickness and the wing spar was tripled in strength for the higher acceleration forces. A new heat resistant canopy for high-speed flight replaced the previous cockpit one. It was gold plated to stop radar waves penetrating the cockpit to lower the radar signature to almost zero. Stealth design was still of huge importance for Kahlia Akasha model two and light blue matt stealth paint replaced the previous matt black for better visual camouflage in the Pacific region.

   Another tanned oriental man monitored a laptop computer connected to the flight systems. The pilot finished his checks and quietly chatted away to the technician flicking through the menu on the computer, triple checking everything. Taking his eyes off the screen, he looked over and saw his wife scrutinising the missiles and aircraft. Excellent, she would double-check his checks. No problems were found so it was nearly time to mount up but not before a small thank you ceremony and payment to their ground crew whose help had been invaluable and speeded things up.

HIGH

HIGH

Flying up high into the summer sky, becoming one with the sun

in a timeless and ageless place. All feeling is lost as the awesome

immensity of what is above us touches our souls.

There is no sound except the wind blowing from horizon to horizon,

just as it has done from day number one.

The heavens are like a huge glass bowl turned upside down,

holding all that life holds dear – air, water and the touch of god.

Mankind knows no power like that of Mother Nature whose power

is infinite and whose patience is endless

with her mischievous child that is called Man.