Open Valley
The valley is a special place for me
It opens out into a wide plain below me
Following miles of winding steep mountains
Great to hike but so very perilous
The beauty worth the hazard of death or bad feet
Those who dare go here know the price that beauty asks

And accept it easily

Only a few score a year go all the way
Down the full length of the valley
From the precipitous highlands
Right down the mountain chain
To the chilled out lowlands

An immeasurable distance

But some ask how far it stretches?
I would tell you but then again
Go find out for yourself and tell me
Was the beauty your find there?
Worth the answer you find?
This valley is only one of many

But something ethereal makes it special

I could list the prominent features
Or show you photos and videos
They are cool but single dimensional
You must go there and risk it
Small little you and the big infinite valley
Risk the awesomeness of Mother Nature
To see one of her hidden prizes

Even if you die it’s worth it...

Soviet Jet
Soviets are like mosquitoes
Always there in the environment
There’s no escape from them
They get in your head

So they rule you remorsessly
By power of paranoia
A bite is a bullet
An infection is a bomb

A disease is a nuclear blast
Mosquitoes are Russians
Russians are mosquitoes
Waiting to be eradicated

By a superior power
Always ready for war
Endless circle of deceit
Mosquito flight round you

Looking for an opening
To attack you
While you sleep
The Russian way

Keep you off guard
Then get you
But not if we strike
And drain their pond

Spray them with insecticide
So they never breed again
No more Novichok
Or nukes or bio weapons

Finally we are safe
Except from our own
******* PARANOIA!!!

Igloo
It was cosy in the igloo
A nice secluded place
Safe from the weather
Nice and quiet
No outside distractions
Just right for me
This is a special place
For the storage of bombs
Very special bombs
Thermonuclear ones
Each with a warhead
1 megatons of explosive
Amongst the biggest made
Held in NATO’s arsenal
Ready to be used
Drop them on Russia
Hit their bases
And ICBM sites
Drop them by F-16
Or the new F-35
So we win the war
World War 3
Defeat Neo Soviet forces
And inherit the earth
A scorched world of ash
Will my special igloo
Be fine after the war?
For it’s my home
Here amongst the bombs
I love the bombs
In 2 days
War starts...

War
The soldier said to the bargirl: 'I hardly expect you to understand. We’re just following orders...' In the coming attack, thirty thousand died. The soldier was lost due to friendly fire. It was 1939...

Between fifty and seventy million perished in the coming war...

Bridge Building
We dug in the mud we used sticks
When we found bits of wreckage I was happy
When I heard the soldiers talk of ghosts I was in disbelief
When I realized I was here by fate I was fine
When I knew my Goddess guided me I was chilled
When my Hello Kitty tumbler fell I knew
When we knew this was the spot I cried
When we found a bit of bone I was elated
When I knew we had succeeded I was a girl
When I knew the big wigs had failed I smirked
When I hear it’s true what we found I’ll believe
When I hear that we found Lt Stone I’ll drink
When I drink in memory of Stone I’ll invite him
When I drink with Stone I’ll invite Kurosawa
When we all drink together we will all smile
And say how silly mad bad sad war is
But how cool aeroplanes are
Then we will all be fine
And laugh and enjoy our destiny
For we have all lived
And walked this green land
And flown in its blue skies

Tarac (for Stone and Kurosawa)
We busted our *****
To get up there
Over a kilometre high
Where the warplanes live
And die a violent death
Meeting their end up above
On towering lonely slopes
As did Lt Stone and Sgt Kurosawa
On the same day seventy six years ago
To the day we went there
As others before had
For we had a job to do
The missing answer to find
To locate the remains of a lost pilot
Named Stone from America
Who flew a Curtiss P-40 Warhawk
In mortal battle with his nemesis
Kurosawa from Japan
With his Nakajima Ki-27 Nate
Both died that day
February 9 1942
And both haunt those inclines
One is angry and lost
One found wants to go home
One likes Hello Kitty
But not the one you think
For my drink tumbler fell
And the guide missed it
It stopped where Stone said
And there we dug dugdug
And found his airplane
Or what was once his warplane
In pieces that were scrap
But had meaning to our group
For it was this plane
That brought us here
Many hours of climbing
Swearing and sweating
To touch the clouds
And be where both hit
At what cost?
Two planes smashed
Two pilots dead
The American protecting Villamor
The Philippines' best pilot
Who flew his biplane
A Boeing Stearman
On a recon mission
The same type that flies today
With **** English wing walkers
From Clark in Bataan
The same field Kurosawa flew from
Yes synchronicity is here
Eagle Has Landed style
What does this mean now?
In 2018 right now
Is it the pilots' ghosts
Or God or fate or karma
That brought me here
To Tarac Ridge to look
To try to find Stone's bones?
When so many have looked
And failed to find him
Did we really find Lt Stone?
So he's no longer MIA
And captive here
This beautiful mountain side
Where the sky and sea become one
Where Bataan and Corregidor
Are visible
The old battlefields
Where hell occurred
Where there are more MIAs
From both sides
Both pilots hunted here
And both became the prey
Paying the ultimate cost
Bent metal and broken bones
Telling a story
Their story
If you listen
You will hear it...

Layered Cake
I’ve known many unsavory characters from my home city of Manchester
There’s the ex-demolition guy who took a great dislike to me
Did he have visions of blowing me up instead of my old car?
He had a trainee apprentice in the wings and had connections

I knew several football hooligans who fought for what?
For England, their home team, themselves, for violence?
Each told me a story of Rah-Rah-Rah Here We Go Lads!
One fought riot cops in Poland and was jailed in a sanatorium
He somehow escaped and was banned from Poland for life
The other was a City fan and battled his opponents in Greece
He was 45 and still loved a good tear up on match days

Drug dealers prominently featured in the city and surrounding towns
One dark night in my home town I saw an ex-dealer shot dead  
I heard then saw the BMW getaway car zoom off
Oddly I thought I heard two gunshots after it had gone
The ex-dealer’s wife asked me to help and I tried to
But there was nothing I could do but call the medics

Chavs are the worst in my town and others
Council House And Violent and ruling the tough estates
With their violence, crime, dealing and other acts
Not going to school or college but sleeping all day
And drinking and smoking **** all night with their underage gals
But when do they have time to do their crimes?

There are the plastic gangsters who think they’re it
Maybe with their mates they can burst a paper bag
Or intimidate innocent law abiding citizens who are meek

Further afield I met a gangster in Liverpool who was alrite
He liked a right tear up and had a job to appear legit
But his real work was in various things like drugs, guns and cash
He offered me a job as a courier because my car was old and gray
I said no for its easy in and never ever out

The English racists were a breed apart who hated all skins
I got on with one who liked metal but we clashed on views
He loathed foreigners and wanted them all out
And insisted that white men stick to white women

Most scary of all I met a killer on the run in Newcastle
We were on the ship disco by the river having fun
This guy had a real flirty wife called Carmen
I danced with her and later talked to her husband
He schitzed out and went mad but not for chatting with his gal
I asked what’s wrong and he admitted to killing a man
And said he didn’t know me from Adam so be quiet!
He was a Londoner and I said you did it for your own reasons
His wife consoled him when he had flashbacks

Ex-servicemen gave me a few problems over the years
I was drinking in my local pub when a para and a marine argued
First with one another and then with me over who was best
They hated the air force and me wearing an Air Force badge
Maybe they needed a war to get their heads blown off?

There were many fighters who lived to fight and cause trouble
Some had a go at me I tried to avoid their skills but heard their stories
Some were nutters but others quite pally and fine lads
There were brawlers, boxers, Martial Artists and more
Near the Mess House pub in Oldham guys die by a single punch

These savory and unsavory characters were the fabric of England
Some I remember and many I forget for right or wrong reasons
Their stories live on here my poem for you to judge