Losing Control:

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Rousing high spirits, without trace
Of instinct taking precaution
Mental levers, allowing space
Enthuse relaxed interaction
Steadily becoming confused
Absolutely no time to think
Swallowing bucket-loads of booze
Throwing all care to demon drink

Rolling around in side-splitting
Stitches; stoking benign humour
Invoking gremlin-like glitches
Wrought in alcohol-laced stupor
Darkness emits violent screams
Casting doubt on sobriety
Swollen lips signal broken dreams
Chilling flustered anxiety

Pained expression, etching faces
Hinting attempts to hide abuse
Leave myriad signs, in many
Places, pitching saddened excuse.

Finding A Way Through:

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It’s so refreshing to see a cacophonous conglomeration, of truly international representation, competitively joined, in individual quests to achieve the glory of winning The Football World Cup; it actually goes against everything international relations represents. Two extremes of this anomalous congregation hold an incredulous court, of non-acrimonious gathering: religious diversity, ably represented, cannot be more stupefying than the west versus east conundrum, holding world populations to ransom, in their despicable denomination of religious opposition. Iran and The USA enjoin sporting rivalry which, if it was employed in worldly affairs, would be perfectly acceptable and, go a long way in appeasing world atrocities, saving millions of lives.
FIFA suffer tumultuous levels of criticism, negatively lustred, but the achievements of this ‘illuminatist’ organisation are positively phenomenal. It proves, and very much so, the Christian and Muslim worlds can co-exist – side by side – in global existence, on an otherwise non-violent level of tolerance, with personal opposition – each to the other – channelled into sporting rivalry. Such a state of affairs opens the door, to: Israel, Arabia, Kenya, Syria, Pakistan, China and a host of other nations, embroiled in the religious nonsense of war, in the name of their anomalous gods.
Governments seem not to notice, or realize the precedents set – especially in this 2014 renewal – by supposedly warring nations and their peacefully abiding citizens congregating in Brazil, as fervently exhilarated and well-entertained supporters.
So far, at the ending of the group stages, this year’s exhibition of football skill and team participation is the best, by far, I have ever witnessed – inclusive of 1970. and 1966 – since I have been old enough to understand what football is about, and its intended principles of representation. If only those Illuminatii could organize a Religion World Cup, taking away the life-taking elements religion employs, out of all equations devised as necessary for participation. The teams, of religious defenders, would have their Holy books, and historic cornerstones, as entry verification. Arguments, concerned with legitimacy of selected individual deities, could begin. Judges would have to be preselected, based on intelligence and reputation, with unquestionable references to their steadfast characters; world audiences could be allowed to vote, on clear-cut definitions of Truth, against irretrievable statutes of ungodly depositions.
In an ideal world, we would proceed to define Utopia, bringing an end to global war, allowing humanity to focus, on: disease, hunger, inequality, generations of youth dependant on global peace, stability and futurist concerns.
All religions should have one statute of determination which ‘is’ unquestionable: God, The Almighty – in whatever form, belief or criteria of knowledge – is Righteousness. It is quite impossible to determine Righteousness, without Truth, so; all religions should start with Righteousness as their initial building block. There are many tributaries claiming to be of religion but, I am concerned with those who claim to have the worship of The Righteous God, at the epicentre of their beliefs, so that Truth emanates as the essential guiding statute. It would then be impossible for Righteousness to kill and commit life-taking atrocities in the defence of, what would be, simplified belief structures. Governments, I personally believe, should be employed to save lives. There are too many wars, too many people dying and too many oppositional forces responsible, for governments to be legitimated as representations of Righteousness and Truth. The Christian God and his Son, as well as the Muslim God and his prophet should epitomise Righteousness and Truth therefore, having no place for killing and murder.
base

Bushwackers’ Paradise: slow-burning hell.

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Deliverance cries – woefully unheard
Bewailing acceptance turned flighty thing
Absent delinquents – getting the bird – toil
Cowing illicit financial stings
Fleeced, virulent freedom fighters return
Simply, open-mouthed like sheep
Paying homage to piss-assed blighters
Making weakened souls burn
While neglected, defenceless children weep

This is now – and when it’s gone
Follow-fashion flunkies dress-up
Looking flawlessly good, to carry on
Crowning Satan, so-called Christians
– in Jesus precious name –
Secretly insert division
While playing despicable games
Frigid inviolables, laying flat on
Their worn backs, fly open all avenues
Proffering well-used oily cracks

Every conceivable system
Avidly given go-ahead green
Adding plenty to rampant heathen
Deployed sarcastic’ly behind see-through screens
Voraciously riding inclement weather
Deigning, obnoxiously, never to stop
Turgidly fluxed clapping thunder
Sucking every seeping dribble – to the very last drop
Wantonly excited – placing blame – perfecting a ruse
Deliberately slighted seeking
Novelty’s flame, with vitriolic abuse
Straddling voluptuous waves
Bursting sugar mountain in a hairy dark cave
Under a poisonous fountain

A Bit On The Side:

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Clandestine experience lacks
Controlled imaginative wit
Fleeting emotion-charged attacks
Wreak quaint personality splits
Sly, sweet surreptitious moments
Aggravating lies appearing aloof
Wholly pretending gross figments
Conceal loyalties from youth

Reminiscence, muting deft sighs
Sends secret signs love understands
Reflecting crystals, catching eyes
Pitching cryptic circles on sand
Heat-enthused longing, making moist
Feed mem’ries serving absent mind
Curt feelings upon victims foist
Gladly refreshing ties who bind

Mindful captivity spins yarns
Revealed through innocent squealing
Wanton reminders, ‘of the barn,’
Emphasize sad, futile mood swings
Measuring affairs of heart
Contempt condemns marital bonds
Partners, berating careless thought
Deride truth, with practised aplomb

Caught in deceitful entrapment
Considered eventful return
Spouses flout betrothal dissent
While cherished souls wither and burn
Duality’s seething purpose
Snares quiet, unsuspecting dupes
Smiling faces, with soft words, pose
Acknowledged innocent rebukes.

“Voted For A Better Future.”

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People designed simple spaces
Sharing complicated Jigsaws
Fused together, leaving traces
Opening Hell’s forbidden drawer
Brokered elements hoped for peace
Squeezed tight, into living nightmares
Catch twenty-two gave no release
Damning antecedents left bare

Greedy affluent ‘poli-tricks’
Setting their moralist two-ply
Wrap convivial straight-jackets
Around bars imagined too high
Voters, no chance what-so-ever
Squares trapped into circular holes
Handcuffed tight, to never-never
Slurp thinned gruel, from poisoned bowls

Craving limited life-chances
Social inebriates gambled
Trapping lop-sided balances
Using drink-laced drug preambles
Existence, donning festered maze
Offers dark, scant privileges
Looped in illusionary daze
Destruction controls averages

Minds infuse psychotic intro’s
Channelling exclusive voices
With rank, explicit mementoes
Hallowing personal choices
Words harangue vile thought processes
Cute exhibitionist visions
Built in conclusive harnesses
Denoting cautious decisions

All said – destitution condones
Permutations in the gutter
Selling pride-ridden body clones
Hidden demons start to mutter
Vice laden promises deride
Withering abusive spirits
Despoiled gains gave no place to hide
“Mate! Did you really believe it?”

England Facing ‘The Beast Of Uruguay.’

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Wow! For the first time in eight years, I witnessed an England team play with flair, intention and determination. They steadily took the game to an excellent Italian unit masterminded by one of the all-time world-greats, Andre Pirlo. England did not deserve to lose but, were lacking in the enterprising knowledgeable departments that Italy – that team in particular – has perfected: patience, fluidity, composure and the unity of a practised and well-honed unit. These qualities are acquired over time, in a unified group consensus which cannot be defined overnight.
The English attacked like rampant lions but, they lacked the necessary cunning and guile, which are necessitated qualities required to win the football world cup. Italy will qualify from the group stages and are a very good idea of what a semi-final team should be about; yet, England are a very much better team, with infinitely much more potential for success. Wayne Rooney has to be afforded the respect and tactical freedom, a player of his professional ability deserves, like Andre Pirlo. Italy do not require Pirlo to bust a gut, trying to contain the opposition’s offensive forays into Italian territory. Neither should the English require such endeavours of Wayne Rooney – scorer of how many international goals?
I have never seen an England team field four black players simultaneously, from start. I may be wrong but, at fifty-six years old, it is a first for me. I am deeply embarrassed, for them, because they should not have lost; better England play with no black players when they lose, that’s my personal opinion, speaking as a Blackman. What happened then? Well, Daniel Sturridge adopted the guise of an old-fashioned centre forward, refusing to track back into English territory, as a much needed extra defender; similar to what Kun Aguero – giving pride of place to Lionel Messi – does when leading Argentina’s attack. Sturridge handicaps the fluidity of the English team by refusing to work; that consensus should belong to Wayne Rooney, no-one else. Raheem Sterling is an excellent prospect but, that is all he is at the moment, an incredible prospect. He must be taught the defensive side of the game, so that when England fall behind and equalize, they can retain possession – like Italy did – and wilfully limit the opposition’s offensive opportunities. Danny Welbeck worked like a Trojan, if Sturridge and Sterling had done the same, England would not have lost but, would have gone on to win the game after equalizing, instead of losing to a Balotelli long ball punt, so unlike Italy. Glen Johnson needs to watch the England game against Germany, in nineteen-seventy, if he really wants to know where he is going wrong – making the same mistakes, every game he plays, like the full backs did – and are recorded as doing – in that fateful and particular game, it’s no secret.
England should be challenging for a semi-final position, at least, because they have shown they are good enough. I am deeply disappointed with Roy and Gary because, contrary to what they are leading us to believe, preparation has not been delivered down to the finest points and, in a quarterly cycle, it is an imperative at this particular level. Steven Gerrard occupies Wayne Rooney’s ascendant position but it seems the management is too lily-livered, to comply with the coinciding age that English football is at. The team has room for only one passenger: by the generation of the English game, taking age and contemporary achievement into account, it should be Wayne Rooney. Not Gerrard, not Lampard, not fly-by-night Sturridge, or flash in the pan Sterling. The man all opposition fear is Wayne Rooney; just like England feared Pirlo, and rightly so – as it proved.
Will England qualify for the group stages? I truly believe, if Sturridge and Sterling put their prima donna natures on the back-burner, fit into the team unit as working cogs and utilize Rooney as an influential secret weapon, even Argentina and Brazil will have reason to fear England. England would then have two industrious phenomenons – alongside Danny Welbeck, with limitless ammunition in reserve.

Stealing Sex On The Side:

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Rapt desire lacking control
Elicits lost inhibition
Regretfully leaving minds cold
With humble bouts of contrition
Rampant enthusiasm cools
Eventually, heat subsides
Deceit, returning spousal fools
Savouring an excellent ride

Women serving adrenaline
Elixirs, prime fluttering hearts
Sexist connotation courting
Features; lecherous from the start
Mirroring self-service seduction
Feverish eyes trace ev’ry groove
Hawkish, enraptured attention
Ogling swish, seductive moves

Tempting influential sweet wine
Contorts slight mental confusion
Piercing voluptuous lines
Engaging voyeurists’ illusion
Beauty purrs in a boiling pot
Ushering an eclectic maze
Alighting fires melting hot
Lust’s ardour seething flighty gaze

Gliding across a darkened room
Floating calmly on creamy seas
Frivolous urgency resumes
Slinking slowly to bended knees
Temptation’s closet elopers
Stifling nervous, silent coughs
Turn trembl’y elusive gropers
Enveloping bubbling froth

Whispers, decidedly frantic
Procrastinate deeply within
Laboured breath becomes erratic
Slippery sweat glistening skin
Measured strokes, delivered on time
Thrust hard, inside her velvet box
Satisfied smiles divulging signs
Stolen opportunity knocks.

Blair: b’ushing it under the carpet (June, ’14.)

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Looking at Tony Blair
Frantic’ly trying to destabilize
History; forgetting, those who suffer
Are the only ones who care
While he, sarcastic’ly, tries
To homogenize the mystery

Thunder rolls, long before it claps
Actions actually take years to unravel
We pile coal, long before fire burns and traps
Religion sharpened its spurs, way before
Picking up the shovel; uniting
Imponderables seeking a blaze
Juggling History’s jigsaw
Out of a free-for-all maze

Now witness Bush and Blair’s
Legacy – trust me: it’s not
Going to be pretty; Armageddon wont
Happen overnight. Neither are the weak
Apt, to spoil for a lopsided fight

So they build a force
In fanatical numbers
Leaving sufferers no choice
But to be coerced by their leaders
The money-wielding ‘witches’
Pretending holy religion
Nothing but warmongering ‘bitches,’
Prophesied to install Armageddon

Iraq is now overtly vulnerable
A virtual state of polarized negativity
International borders are now invisible
Bush and Blair’s war induced this activity
Holy books state: Armageddon is poised
Erupting from a place called Meggido
Geographically we see it openly voiced
Around Syria; it has become incommunicado

2014: Blair’s Multicultural Deceit.

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Everything spun on its head
Changing ways we always perceived
Shoddy deception signifies street-cred
Fraud from sweaty pores bleed
No-one actually gives a chuff
People make it by any means
Barefaced cheek bridles easy bluff
Criminals start in early teens

Spawning a hotch-potch mixing creeds
Where withered individuals
Duly succumbing Satan’s seed
Seek solace in residual
Levels, socially time-wasting
Hanging street corners blowing spliffs
Advancing crack-pipes, freebasing
Many end-up as broken stiffs

Money di’nt take long to overcome
Usurped Love’s ordered precedence
Thatcher’s selfish nineties took some
Time: instilling rich folks’ confidence
Window-dressed internet prices
Barter sex unashamedly
Induce superficial vices
Lurking hideous depravity

Such that: we reside free, under
Clouds shedding misered existence
Barrelled crabs feeding powdered
Scrap-fuelled bellies with pretence
Crying bloodied African loss
Dreaming centuries past
Recorded scorn in Maya’s floss
Riven through sounds of trampled caste.

Religion served purposes no
Longer required to keep peace
Resistance flattered, as winds blow
Culled by obligate rental lease
Blairite beureacracy abounds
Signing racist acquiescence
Allegiance well-flooded and crowned
Adjoined to pagan acceptance

Giving much more, receiving less
Batting not a ruffled eyelid
Darkened straight, minus curling tress
Fully condoned lands intrepid
Such that: we collide as thunder
Proud, meek heads bowed without hindrance
Grateful masses crowding borders
Truth quaintly divulges tolerance

So, we live engineered futures
Planted layers conniving dross
Yearly voting evil Labour
Enough to make submissives cross
Stolen culture breeds new life
Yielding not a twitch as we trod
Sowing postmodern seeds of strife
“Innit mate? Now fist me bl’ud!”

Passed Through The Fire:

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Passed Through The Fire:.

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