“The Football Is Great – can’t say much else…”

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The England game was sweetly frustrating; Russia hung on for dear life and, in so doing, extracted the greatest reward – a last minute equalizer.  I was disappointed with Hodgson’s team selection, because Wilshere walks into any international eleven, he’s that kind of player.  Also, great as Harry Kane is and contrary to what he believes – regardless of how many phenomenal goals scored – Harry Kane is not the finished article, he’s not clinical enough.  Mr Rooney, as usual, subtly and sublimely ran the show – he’s the undoubted brains of the English operation.  Rooney was majestic and indomitable, taking him off was a sad mistake; England frittered at the seams and lost all sense of progressive coherence.  Oh yes, the performance was laudable and totally commendable but the result took that beautiful edge, that England deserved, off it.

England will qualify as group winners, I am totally convinced but, it can all go awry if Hodgson repeats the sad mistakes of the Belgium manager, and fields the wrong team.  The country will get off Wayne Rooney’s back now, because they’ve finally realised he’s been England’s best player, and for some time now.  I go as far, as to say: ” It’s Rooney’s team and he makes it tick, as a complete unit.”  The Wales game is not such a foreboding prospect; it’s the same Gareth Bale who played for Spurs, not so long ago.  So What?  He’s joined the Galacticos, and rubs shoulders with CR7.  What’s the big deal?  Rooney made a vast percentage of Christiano’s goals, at Manchester United.  Actually helping Ronaldo on his way to greatness and universal stardom.  The thing is: Rooney is rated a lot more highly abroad, than he is in his own country but, anyone who knows football – from a very young age – will know, Wazza is easily England’s best player; he has been for the last ten years.

Those idiots who tarnish the image of ‘the beautiful game,’ should be seen and recognised for what they are: brainless, mindless fools intent on self-degradation.  The fact that they are allowed to leave: Russia, and England, calls into question the security forces and the measures they employ.  Those fools probably don’t even watch the game when play commences.  They are the Devil’s spawn, driven by hatred and malice, and should be banished from the company of decent-living true football supporters.  The festival will be ruined, if these fools continue to be allowed to attack and abuse true supporters.  Maybe if England had football drop-ins, and met the real fans in conference, it would empower the real fans to expose and eject those fools from the host of admirers, who truly love England and football.  Something must be done because football is too good, to be trashed like it is being.

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.

Seeping Demon: Nisroch

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Reworked: originally titled, ‘Crack.’

Deep in the hearts
Of redundant minds
Silent grudges etched
in stone, nurse years
Unperturbed by miscreant design
Coercing folly of a two-edged
Clone; dripping molecular
Schizophrenic overtures
Of tainted psychological sweat
Proffering yearned – imaginary – relief
Globular tenure; inside
Over-heated cerebral palates
Oozing repressed emotions
Intricately defiled with grief

Moistening lips crack a veiled
Birthday smile; rescinding
Thoughtful, transparent melancholy
Present joys; flailed
Tactful generosity’s bile
Call to arms: visionary
Autocratic, egotistical bigotry
Fading images disappear
Through confused corridors
Receding sleep-hasted fear’s
Beguiled forgetfulness, evening scores

Days we seemed
To lose our way
Sating penchant
For mind-debilitating forays
Berating delinquents
Holding arithmetical sway
Lives totalled, and spent
An eternal river’s belligerent
Propensity. We have our source
Coursing veins’ finite insensibility
Running never smooth, no remorse
Tempers fray, crossed words
Become rude; disrespectful
Abysmal, residue behaviour
Reminiscent of a full
Foul-smelling, wet ashtray
Crucial, confused misdemeanour
Thoughts concupiscence prowl
Blistered corset’s hooray
celebrating pussy-money’s miasmic fervour

Flavour Of The Month:

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Poetry’s dead! Long live Poe’sy
Many times we cried blood
Swore; no-one listened
Running carelessly, naked
Around decadent neighbourhoods
Sweating profusely
Ebony skin glistened
Poe’sy’s dead! How on earth
Could that actually happen
Should that really be
Every-all inclined to agree
We were to marry first light
Bedding Word, pencils sharpened
We’ll Weep in supper tonight

Isn’t this a pleasant surprise
And, all of an isolated sudden
Making the loudest literary noise
Impregnated; that literary
‘Bun in the oven.’
Those tempting , ‘get rich quick’
Designs are all callous infamies
Swallowed opportunities
Withering propensities

Justice is Mercy’s sometimes
Reluctant bed-mate; Death
In Judgement, we can’t under-rate
Without Justice there is no
What-so-ever, life
World having to pay a wicked price
Existence perturbed and harangued
Always after judgment sourced – began

So gaudily cheap, virtually
Free; Yet! Making grown-ups cry
Enabling children to see; there’s
More to world than food and drink
As you grow, dare to seriously think
Ahead of your assigned position
Avoiding naked society’s virtual
Poison, a; trap set for stupid
Denizens, too clever to Be
True and wholesomely happy

Poets attempted serenading
Word’s apostate grumbling
Hypocrites invariably feign
Agree; what should, or
Won’t be. Debated, oh so
Admirably, dashed upon
Unseen Joshua trees: come Healer
Stay with me, let us surmise
Muse; enjoy a delicious
Cup of Poe’sy tea

To Answer A Question: “is there a God?”

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Part 2:
The bible refers to God as a tri-part separated Being, retaining a separated entity remaining whole, also; the proto-type from whose image mankind is derived. This helps to explain why mankind’s faith is lacking intuitive scope and proceeds to induce disbelief in God’s existence. God’s physical reality is too incredulous for mankind to actually understand and yet, it is a simple assignation of man’s physical generation.
In the beginning revelation of heaven and earth was made known to man, through the scriptures. Knowledge, at that time, became the preserve of inspired men. Realisation obviously emanated from a process of pure thought; contextually, mankind begun to realise language and, by extension, communication. Biblical interpretation wrongly assumed God as an external manifestation to man himself, a; diabolical mistake. People therefore pointed to some figment of fanciful imagination, high in the sky; calling something they could not see, or credibly substantiate, God. The evidence in the early verses of the bible, refuted such an approach but mankind continued with his vain imagination, as dubious answers for Truth he could not fathom.
God is referred to in plurality, yet his essence is maintained in singularity. This is the confusing factor, aligned to God’s Being, which causes interpretation to lapse, readers just could not understand its implications. It is a doubtful assumption that, people can understand the true meaning in the twenty-first century. The three parts to the one God, are: Father/ Creator, Son/ Word and Spirit/ Manifestation, these; facets are innate qualities of human existence, which also constitute Almighty JAH/ God. In the bible, God’s reference to himself as us qualifies the separated parts of himself which, is the constitution of his image in the making of mankind. There is, again, misrepresentation in literary interpretation here: the fictional imagination of a deity sat at a potter’s wheel, shaping his creation, is an allusion to the power of God in nature. Over time, the initial cellular entity generates, via split/ separated particles, composite manifestations complimenting each, the other (man and woman) and its natural progressive generation culminated in humankind, once the power of pure thought (God/ personal individuality) became party to the entity that nature periodically formed; God instituted himself as a presence of pure thought, becoming man’s soul/ mind; God himself as the presence of purely righteous thought, and so, separating mankind from the lesser endowed animal kind; a naturally progressive reality in flesh. Does God exist? Of course he/ she does. God is that part of man/ woman who activates the essential reality of Truth. Humans have to live in a set authoritarian, autocratic manner for God to be an integral part of their make-up; Christ’s message explicitly maintains, this fact has to be so for man to be joined to his creator; pure thought, inculcated inside human beings, is the actual presence of God.
Proof of God’s existence is an emotional experience, which is impossible to relate though very easily witnessed. Pure thought is the first cause of man’s differentiation from the apes. Symbolic allusion of God’s existence in man, is obtained, in: the passing of blood and water from Christ’s pierced side, whilst he was on the cross; blood symbolises man-in flesh and water represents God’s spirit in man. Christ may then be realised, as the presence of both God and man in the same individual entity. Proof of God’s existence should be derived from the universal uniformity and perfected nature of The Creation; the celestial bodies are completely perfected, in their axes and their individual working parts, in the whole completed process of the universe. It is not haphazard, neither is there a finite equilibrium, it is infinite in scope and longevity.
Belief in evolutionary perfection and nature’s non-susceptibility to mistakes, are not acceptable explanations for the faultless design of The Creation.
Hume says God is the first cause in the chain of existence. What, then, caused God to Be? Realisation of God’s nature allows us to believe, God does not need or warrant a cause for explanation of his/ her existence; there is God and all else came after him. Conception of The Creation generated from pure thought, the; Word is the actual recording of pure thought and his/ her manifestation is the progressive reality of mankind. These three processes of existence assume the presence of God, in a singular entity, contained in the embodiment of humankind.

To Answer A Question: “is there a God?” Part 2:

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Growing up as an angelic choirboy spawned, a quite impulsive desire to reject, and rebel against, the ecumenical authoritarian regime representing the very foundational claims and non-progressive resources of the systemized church and state symbiosis, of organised control; the whole charade seems oblivious and steeped in symbolic representations, of world dominating racial hypocrisy.
My great-grandfather was a slave, so was his most immediate progeny, who lived in an age when slavery was, supposedly, already abolished; abolition was achieved in eighteen thirty-two, actual legislation – passed in eighteen thirty-four – took decades and many illegally abusive perpetrations, to filter through to the remotest dominions of Britain’s far-flung resources of empire. My father, born in nineteen twenty-eight, suffered precipitations of ingrained slave practises, he: didn’t go to school, was unable to read or write and, engaged in daily work schedules, long before he was fourteen years old. Our whole existence, just like all descendants of the ‘modern’ captives, enslaved by a neo-babylonic empire, was: fashioned, shaped and futuristicly devolved in to what we are today. We clung, with existential resolve, to God our almighty father who, we are quite unreservedly convinced, will redeem our souls from a living perdition which, religion assures us, should not commence until we experience physical death. My first point of rejection stemmed, from a refusal to wait until I am dead, to gain: Freedom, Emancipation and release from a state of racially instituted secondary preference.
The slaves had to be content, seriously coerced by master and his heinous systems of dictatorial control – not unlike the British police forces – with a promise of unreserved release when death, mercifully, came calling:’any day now, any day now, I shall be released …’ was a chorus sung with unbelievable fervour and gusto, in the: cotton, cane and tilling fields. The generation I was born into, decided ‘by any means necessary,’ to actively engage in subversion, rebelling against ‘The Babylon system’ hellbent on keeping us, within their plotted trajectory for slave descendants; rebellion, unfortunately, meant illegality and frequent criminal sentences in prison. I drowned my sorrowful sojourns, during incarceration, studying and preparing for a change of direction.
Whenever in gaol, I studied: the bible, Kant, Descartes, Marx, Adam Smith, Engels – who lived here for a time – Darwin and Byron, divining deeply into respective academic fields, purporting to shed light on the questioned existence of JAH/ God; Hume was the one who instinctively, proffered guidance I could theoretically relate and align myself to. Studying Eldrige Cleaver, whilst in borstal, helped me to affirm the importance of divulging and fashioning my own personal methods of enquiry. I was destined never to follow or repeat the observations of others; a processing point of intimate inquiry, forced me to find my own route to personally set goals of achievement. With Hume, it became increasingly difficult to discern and form my own critical point of view, without relying on his intimations.
The theory of causal intervention, Hume’s theory of ‘The First Cause,’ in relation to the existence of God, is a steadfast theoretical opinion which seems to me, an infallible edict of theoretical enquiry: because everything in literal existence has an undeniable beginning: that includes the existence of scientific enquiry/ inquiry, which is, initially, a psychological construct invented and devolved by mankind, to offer explanations for personal existence. For the world to Be, there had to be a point where it actually began, remembering; the world is an altogether separated entity, from The Earth: they belong to alternate spheres of existence; The Earth being a geo-physical aspect of spacial existence whilst, the world is mankind’s scientific explanation of, what takes place in and on the earth. The Earth is therefore a physical aspect and the world is an abstract, psychologic epistemological domain, derived from studies of The Earth; the world doesn’t actually exist but is accorded imagined existence, theorised and visualised by mental persuasions – hence thoughts – of humanity. Epistemology, then, is the theoretical beginning of pseudo-earth, which is the figment termed The World. The Poet/ Psalmist alludes to definitive distinction of these two realms of existence, in Psalms 24: ‘The Earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof, the world and they that dwell therein ….’. The ascertained existence of God, is actively defined by recognizance of the distinction between The Earth, and the world; the Earth is a realm belonging to God, and its pseudo representative, the world, is a scientific construct divined and devolved by the epistemological and linguistic creations of mankind.
We have to acknowledge nothing actually exists until epistemologically defined and termed as being so; fire has always been here as an elemental definition of Earth’s existence but it wasn’t actually known to exist, until realized and given the classified label, of the name, fire; mankind will never know when that genealogical occurence actually took happened.
A whimsical allusion to the existential relationship, connecting The Earth and the world is the reciprocative relationship, enjoyed bt the world and ‘its’ reciprocative, repetitive visual simile television; the one is a vivid interpretation of what has actually taken place; never, in actuality, what will happen but what has already taken witnessed. The bible reports God brought the world into existence, by speaking it into Being; this fact is, in essence, the Truth; the writer is, in reference, epistemologically creating the first cause of existence, by instituting communication of what has been, via the start of recorded language; in this case, the Essenes promulgated a reproduction of God’s generation – not evolution – of the beginning of existence; before this record of mankind’s generation, we have nothing tangible in comparative authenticity.
The art of perfection is a theoretical semblance of meaning which actuates the futility of doubt; how can the jigsaw of life be so acutely and accurately fitted together, if not by design? Why does it choreograph and co-rehearse an articulated whole, that is never less than perfectly related to its necessitated working parts? The physiology of human beings is too perfectly engineered, for it to be a naturally selected design of genealogical chance; otherwise, we would undoubtedly have: one-legged species, cyclops, four-legged people and many other travesties of human design, as natural occurrences, not human accidents. Mankind has been planned and executed by the initial design of a superior intellect, there can be no doubt.


” Fighting For Truth and The Real.”

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So this debilitating mirage continues, Poe’sy ostracised, debilitated and devalued; they haven’t heard or considered New Poetry; how she houses the latest chat concerning linguistics, in the literary. Now educational establishments are under vitriolic attack. Pouring slight on Lyotard, who arrogantly defined and distinguished high and low societies. This expose of western hypocrisy will, eventually, travel abroad, condemning those gilt-edged academies. We are usurping those age-old foundations; devising new and much-needed revenue streams. Exposing the genotextual (hidden) nature of metaphors and alliteration. What a way The System has started to flounder, History has been expertly slayed; inducing disruption, discontinuity and disorder. Listen! You highly cultured artistic charlatans, “you’ve been dismantled, and played. Now where do you go to my ugly, when your curtailed in your head? Your creditability questioned, deemed unseemly, Justice finally prevailed …. yes it did, yes it did … so! where do you …” Talking ’bout: Baudrillard, Foucault, Fukuyama, those theorists who have me well read: Freud, Lacan, Said and Kristeva, for goodness sakes, History is dead!
Poe’sy, flower of necessary information and auditor of human essentialism, she consumes me, indulging my crazy revolutionised head; alter-ego of original Poetry, any opposition has quickly gone to bed. I choose not to be over-obnoxious but, I’ve no time to make false and hypocritical apologies; ways of this falsely concocted, dead world are definitely not for me. Inevitably remaining conscious, introducing literary psychology. In fact! I won’t continue this unwelcome tirade, Lord knows! Done enough damage defending the weak and the poor; this is Poverty’s crusade, reversing all trends and disadvantages.

Take a look at second Kings
Be not surprised what you see
The deity Sennacherib brings
One who took so much liberty
Dared transgress ‘gainst Our JAH
Forgetting HIM is Earth rightful ruler
And so, was made to flee and run
Back to his God-forsaken homeland
Realized Judgement through his sons
JAHwill Be! Done when kingdom come

Burning incense to ‘the one’ Nisroch (crack)
Falling prostrate, flat on his back
Must have been dizzy, thinking he was cool
If he only knew; that stupid fool
Praising that demon, hopelessly off track
Nisroch, alter-ego for demon crack (Rock).


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So now we wearily approach
Those haunted bewitching crossroads
Time to securely fasten bag-straps
Batten down our heavy loads
First, we must put: grudgement
Malice, hatred and ill-feeling aside
There’s no place for passengers
Or umbrellas; no blighs
Signalling surreptitious free rides

Draw your winning card, release
Long-concealed, imprisoned Word
Assume position as witty unassailable
Bard, unleash that double-edged
Thought provoking sword. Truth, as
Usual, respects not a single soul
Blessed utterance is consigned
To leave all victims cold. Signal
All ardent aspirants, attorneys
Allocating social revolution; tonight
We are determined to chisel and forge
An acceptable and binding solution

Every pause, each sentence will
Unerringly indict, those hypocritical
Usurpers; the extent of their
Inescapable plight. Remember! We
Used to toast our vibrant, indefatigable
Future, encouraged to boast by their
Silent incorrigible nature; in tune
To the host, with the musical most
‘Pon the rhythm, we used to lyrically
Coast- during the mid-seventies – wilfully
Setting our stall, running on priorities
Alerting boisterous, belligerent youth
Convincing them to heed our call

Those chameleons skillfully crept in
Undetectable wolves in sheep’s clothing
Poisoned lions joining the pack
While the pride was at rest, peacefully
Sleeping. Sowing discord, getting paid
For holding us back; regardless to hungry
Children: sad, tired and weeping
Planting voracious weeds, wielding
Incalculable problems; yielding virulent
Seeds, enjoined to our enemy: The System
Sold out, betrayed to the very hilt
We watch them now: racked and riddled
With immoveable guilt. Ridiculed and abused
To virtual absorption; price they’re
Compelled to pay, for abandoning
Our next generation.

Poet Extraordinaire

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Trodding a charted, long and lonely road
Stopping at sporadic intervals, for
Intermittent reloads: always mindful
Business is chat; extolling the honours
Of an agile acrobat
Trimming those lines, editting-in composure
Exacting the refine, exacerbating
Inertia, a composite journalist
Exuding structured analysis

Invoking many an unexpected
Twist; detailing situations ultra
Specific, developing those harsh vines
Simplistic exquisite poetic
Confines, realistic’ly determinate
Voyeur of existence, sapping
Social conscience, a; privileged saboteur oozing
Patience, also; maintaining historic advance

Lost silent isolated reverie
Fantasize induced trips to paradise
Starring roles as latent celebrities
Concerting thoughts enveloping mind’s eyes
We dream, as secondary reflections
Confident enough to adopt lead parts
Rampant, repressed cinematic inflections
Ensure closet careers get a head start

Smoking cigarettes in elegant pose
Teacups, with tilting littlest finger
Airs and graces perched on fur-lined commodes
Cucumber sandwiches with Pimms, to order
Leather loafers crowned with velvet tassels
Designer cars, parked in listed drive-ways
Pretend expensive fluff, and business moguls
Buff Joannas and sleek Henrys shouting hoorays

A sentient being, non-interfering
Non-committal: recording what has been
Regardless of multitude rebuttals
The whim of disclosure bursts reality
At a glance; opening a hidden world
To unheralded exposure, refuting
Bigotry and ignorance. Dogged
Determination fuels over-riding
Aspirations; he who truly dares
Could well , Be: ‘The Poet extraordinaire.’

Wistfully Yearning: Winter vacation

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Open the gate and let us through
Release Freedom and Emancipation
So we can flaunt and survey Poe’sy Avenue
Breaking down walls of incarceration

Yes baby come! Come play with me
Faraway on a distant shore
Living and loving ever so sweetly
Hugging and squeezing; crying out for more

Yes! We’re going on vacation
Flying out to sun and shining sea
Nervously trusting to transport aviation
Make-up your mind: yes! come quickly

Yes! We’re going on holiday
Frequenting luxurious five-star hotels
Dancing on beaches where sweet music plays
Lazing in shade whilst sand and sea swells

Take your choice, come let us go
The world is our completed oyster
Lands where nature’s vibrations freely flow
Food so reminiscent of heavenly Ambrosia

Immersed and enmeshed in Pleasure’s terrain
Wrapping ourselves in fragrant sweetness
Falling in love; once, and again
Ensuring people know: we’re well and truly blessed

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