Archive for the Uncategorized Category

Poetry Train Africa: Ethiopia Books 1 Through 8

Posted in Uncategorized on July 6, 2017 by John E WordSlinger

Poets of Poetry Train Africa: Ethiopia
inspired by Poets and Poetry from Africa and Railroad History of Africa. written by John E WordSlinger edited by Munia Khan

Poetry Train Africa is the third book series to make up the Poetry Train Trilogy: A colorful combination of storytelling, poets, poetry, and railways. 3 men who travel Africa in the year of 2015 and &c
With Boet Duve Fritz, Mathias, Swanda, Mr. Walklemon Whipagla, Axel F, Mak, Mary Lesmore, and Staffriders – Lucky, Dino, and Crisis. and many more Poets and RxR’ers. Furthermore Animals & Ghosts…

https://www.inkitt.com/stories/mystery/52491

BOOK 1 Cape Town South Africa
https://www.createspace.com/6945066

BOOK 2 South Africa & Botswana
https://www.createspace.com/7114760

BOOK 3 Botswana
https://www.createspace.com/7114768

BOOK 4 Zimbabwe
https://www.createspace.com/7114776

BOOK 5 Lesotho
https://www.createspace.com/7114783

BOOK 6 Swaziland
https://www.createspace.com/7114796

BOOK 7 Mozambique
https://www.createspace.com/7114833

BOOK 8 Madagascar

https://www.createspace.com/7586912

PROMO VIDEO

http://www.poetrytrain.com/

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TO FETCH MY TENNIS RACKET FOR WASPS

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on February 26, 2017 by John E WordSlinger

tennisracket-for-wasps1

https://www.createspace.com/6968035

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1544168810/ref=la_B01AF3E55M_1_3

https://www.facebook.com/John-E-WordSlinger-875794729144160/

 

TO KNOCK THEM KNOTS TO KINGDOM KOME

INVISIBLE GOLDFISH

THE VINE
ASSASINS OF’SAY ATHEISTS

HERO IN ACTION

PIN PULLIN’ INC.

XI KEYS TO DIVIDE THE WORLD

BLOODLESS TERROR IN THE BLINDED AGE

THE STUBBORN WITNESSES,

A FAMILY NAMED HISTORY

ARE STILL PRESENT, SMILING,

& CREATING BULK BUSINESS

 

NAUSEA

FOREST OF RAINBOWS

HOW WILL THEY DEAL WITH MY BODY?

SLUMBER NO MORE / SPARKS OF HEAVEN IGNITE ITS STAMPEDE

THE CALLING

SALVATION

WHO’S INCOGNITO?

WOMB OF FAITH

THE DARING ENEMYS OF HEAVEN & LEAP DAYS’ CHILD

SATANS’ FUNERAL

OPIUM & PLATO

 

-… …-

THE VINE
 
Life by thousands of qualifications
 
When I say ‘God’
 
I use every source of amplifications
 
Pick up the word, and use it
 
Use your humanity talk, though fuse it
 
 
Be free with a dynamic personality
 
Inrageous contagious soul seizure
 
Ethics use to be adventures
 
 
This is no puff or a short lived fickle
 
Nor a cash value, I’m a Poet with a faithful sickle
 
My life is not exaggerated
 
I see the worlds’ blindness
 
It is so constipated
 
 
I roll n rock the modern clock
 
I’ll be held in all coming ages
 
To you all this must be a shock!
 
Godma- a word like that
 
I ‘am a miracle that was spat
 
 
I ‘am smiling to you from this side of the beyond
 
Pull the vine, chime too, by WordSlinger John
 
Look up the word blik
 
& then look at how you got here
 
Like a secret camera-less porn flick
 
Bamm magik!
 
 
So shut your mouth
 
And take this as truth
 
This is an historical event
 
For all of the non-cognitive
 
Who is all hypo-bent
 
 
I ‘m from the supernatural
 
So be cross, it’s your upper loss
 
Get to know the names
 
& all of their language games
 
 
Faith transcends and shatters
 
All straight jackets of ideologies
 
Me, an intellectual rebel you don’t see
 
This gives me a wider range to sling
 
Ya ya baby, you’re slowly getting to know me
 
 
ya ya th’C inside th’Circle John E. WordSlinger
 
a poem from a new book ‘To Fetch My Tennis Racket For Wasps’ ha

_STARKILL: MY POETIC BODY LANGUAGE

Posted in Uncategorized on October 26, 2016 by John E WordSlinger

BOOK TRAILER VIDEO

 

https://www.createspace.com/6683046

 

Table of Contents

_MY POETIC BODY LANGUAGE 3

SURPRISE WITH SOPHISTICATION 4

MYSTICAL JUMPING 5

GENRE-LESS DREAM FARMING & WRANGLING 7

A HOME ON THE SHORE OF NOVA SCOTIA 9

SKIN POTENTIAL 12

SHARPNESS & BALLOONS 15

TIMES BUFFET 18

MIRACLE CANDY 21

TIMELESS FLUSH OF THE HEART 24

BLUE BELLIED 27

SWINE CELEBRATION 29

RED, WHITE, & BLUE BLUR 31

A SESSION OF POETRY & LOVE 34

TO EXPEL DEMONS OF THE FLESH 36

JOINTED/DREAM CLIMBING 37

POETRY RADIO 38

BUILDING LIGHT HOUSES IN GROOVE GROWL OCEANS 40

SIMPLE DEFINITIONS OBSERVED 41

VILLAIN PARENTING INC. 43

SWORD TO THE BACK 46

WHEN LOVE ATTACKS 48

DETERIORATION, DUST AND NEW VERMIN 50

EMPATHY RIVER & HEAVEN-CATS 52

TIPI (Plural-Illustrative aka a Cento Face Front) 54

THE BILLIARDS OF LIFE 57

GAMETO & GAMOUS IN GAMUT 60

DAGGER TH’CLOAKS & TAG TH’CLONES 62

STRANGERS OF HEART 65

NAMELESS CHILDREN 69

UNSCATHED; GEE, GELD GEHENNA 71

KNIGHTS OF THE SPIRIT 76

– … …-


_MY POETIC BODY LANGUAGE

prelude
I sat naked on a wooden chair
with thoughts of how I got there
Ya lucky me, swear it’s confidence,
And my intuity duty spoke,
that seventh strike’s going to happen
& still I shall not be or fall like a Roman

poem I
SURPRISE WITH SOPHISTICATION

So you like my unlust
You want to see who excites me
Like the hot sweat on my neck
Or as my unprivate poetry
Beware there’s no nincompoop impulse
As the slobbering diagnosis falls from your lips
Make sure you are aware of my contents

Feelings transferring
Waiting for a song
With cake and ice cream,
And a bazooka flute loud enough
To piss off my scorn fanged neighbor

Now back to you, listen-
Come here, let me show you some roots
I like the way she teaches folk how to read
To pay attention to my non-sin-sex syntax
Who am I talking to?
To whom is making this transfer?

Do you know everything in my home is a horse?
Warning-less too

Loving how you have no resistance
As I tell you desire can be dangerous
Like a restaurant burning, and the arson vice reveal
Like six days ago you were coming with transfer gas
You were the kindred governing the red and black
How is my life going to be when I have forgotten?
Forgotten like on the 7th Day I burned you down?

poem XVII
POETRY RADIO

We laid there on the floor for a while,
And a memory appeared in her with a smile
She said, I remember over hearing ladies talk on a train
They were creative writing teachers with empathy pain
They spoke about the worlds’ crisis, from America to the Jews
But the main thing was they couldn’t teach students Poetry dues
No matter what they asked, to read, to speak, to listen, to assign
Poetry seems not to be taught, it was something from the heart & mind
One had tears in her eyes because it was her job to teach value
But people today are taking app naps, and have no clue

I laid there listening, and Starkill said,
John E you are one of the lucky few

I said, Poetry radio would do
24/7 different eras, and Who’s who
You have to make it catchy, and stick like glue
It can be done, just need a foundation to put it through

I thought of an old abandoned school
Turn it into Poetry High, that would be cool
I said, I bet they cried about presses and zines

She said, Why yes John E, you see what dreams mean

It could be a calling, I was called back 1987,
And I have been nurturing, backing it up ever since
Except for lying on this wooden floor
Laying on my side makes my blood rush more

I notice you keep your head up and forward, Starkill said,
Like you are reaching out to the world

I bruise differently, my bruises show upon my soul, I said.

I remember your poem ‘Hollowspine’ said Starkill
That was a poem you read, and know this man has skill
John E you have won my admiration and affection
Kiss me, John E, it can’t be that hard to start an FM/AM Poetry show

I hear you and the drumming mania
I’ll kiss you, it drives me insania
We need to teach people to poetry dance,
And not to be afraid to take a poetry stance

Poetry is the ruler, as so it should be
Poetry the all important one, the world should see
That’s why that Lady on the train was crying
She knew the world without poetry was dying
We must install esteem, bubbles must burst,
And we Poets must fulfill the worlds’ thirst

I agree, replied Starkill,
We need to create a shoulder for all the tears,
That has been held in by all of us for years

My heart has been broke for a long time
I see word-zillions deprived of rhythm and rhyme
We must un-tie these awful forgotten knots
And we must no matter what, untie a lot

We held each other, and looked at the moon
Smiling its life into our eyes in the room

poem XXX
UNSCATHED; GEE, GELD GEHENNA

I gave Starkill another massage, and told her about this boy who had a toy car store down by Empathy River. He was ahead of his time for a young lad.

This boy seen what people do with their skills of bad
How they entice with vice and damage all good plans
He seen how good people were not soothed
Because they had this rule to love regardless
He claimed he seen the cobras in many people
He also did not care if anyone one took him serious
He knew these were not clothes people put on
But the slithering beings who put people on
(nuclear blood lined folk)

He was calm and causal
His hands were quicker then the mind and eye
He was sharpening his sword
To save us, some of you and no I
Will was his name
And he knew no mercy
He was frozenless in this dimension
We call our lifes journey

He was attached to all who looked at him
Or those who spoke with him
Persons in pain knew he knew they were hurt
Persons who dispense pain nerved up to him
But lost for words once he looked into their eyes

I found this charming, and I smirked at such fools
He did too, he found it to him to be full and sensuous
Seems to me he was waiting to break the windmills
He was a master of air, painting, and salvage

Every toy car he had for sale was freshly new
Painted with finesse so his business grew
He made everyone with eyesight gasp,
And those with blind love laugh

No matter how far people stayed away
His spirit was with them everyday

I want to meet this young boy, Starkill stated.

Sure, I replied. He’s a gem, adorable.
One poet calls him Will Crinkle, and I laugh.

Why? Starkill asked.

He crinkled his nose when he is in his zone, I replied.
His observations of adults makes adults look like infants
He calls them, Mangled up ships lost at sea.
The sea of hatred

He told me he set his parents free
Because they hated him
He knew they hated period
Most of all themselves
Dust lickers, he said, serpent like
He said Hate can not be moved
It must be returned to its owner
And no one can do it alone
It will be hard for us to maneuver
In a frozen wasteland the world has become
No anger can do it either
Nor love, it must be done

Well, I can’t say here love, I told Starkill,
I’ll let him key you in.
How many days has it been since
This all has happened?

Starkill gets up from the chair, and says, Yes!
It has been seven days.
She looks at her watch, and puts on her clothes and boots.
You are not as aggressive as you were, Starkill said.
Your heart is fully involved for sure.
I get a feeling I ‘am needed for something more
Than I dreamed of

I smiled, and said, I need my clothes
I can’t go to Empathy River naked
We can but the zolice won’t zike it,
And I laugh.

You make me feel special, Starkill stated.

You are feeling what you are, and made yourself to be.
That’s what it is Starkill, I proclaimed.

We are liquidators you know, I said and we both laughed.

Why do I get the feeling we are going to be writing poetry
That is to say, like sand paper, said Starkill.

Yes, indeed, I replied. Hmm to turn hatred into dark sugar fire,
An environment for the new empire
Starkill, Danger we will be all around
Until we get there, and it shall be evident!
The spiritual trip wire association is at large.

Starkill laughs, Bless I love that you coined them Pranksters.
I’ll return I ‘am getting your clothes now.

Great, I have to pee, I said, and I finally did.

Well, I had to fix myself up, Starkill said.

Yeah, imagine that, I stated. Cinematic, hot pneumatic-peutic bundles of love coming down! Satans’ mother must have been one hell of bitch, right?

Maybe, I imagine she writes notes to demons saying,
That’s my boy, said Starkill.

I’d love to look into her eyes, I said.

Me too, Said Starkill. I wonder what her natural heir was?
Either way, we can no longer let her or her son enjoy their high!

Starkill you know as well as I do, we will not return unscathed, I proclaimed.

Yes WordSlinger, and I say, Gee; Geld Gehenna, Starkill proclaimed.

Before I put on my clothes, I said, We need to shower, and make love.

We made love to be satisfied so we were cleansed and tied.

After a shower, and it was a public one, set in the hall of this building, with a bath tub, and after we put on our clothes, I said, No spacing out, focus on the magic of the universe. No radical changes, and keep in mind you are connected to the righteous legion. If you long for home, say to your self, ‘Heart, heart, heart.’ The nuclear people are bonded by Hatred with a capital H for hemisphere, and it’s cold in their world, so let no draft in. The people we cross paths with on the way to the river don’t understand what we are facing. People have tried, Poets have tried, the Churches used to but no longer try.

I understand, Starkill replied, They have been infiltrated, and the world has Evils’ grip around throats, a capital E for Earth, and we will be walking through the thick spit of hatred.

No speaking or whispering, I declared.

We walked down to the river, and the lord of the land was watching us walk from the roof top. I said, Raise your arms to the sky, we must stretch our bodies and soul, a body movement to catch Heavens eye.

Yes, our spirits will speak to us, Starkill replied, We will see trickery in many forms.

Yes the sexplosive world, and they will try to get us to be sexplosive, I stated.

You mean tempted by lust, attractive people but actually demons? Starkill asked.

Yes, I replied, ( I thought of the power of the air ) Keep in mind, evil-he can walk the earth in a day, and the other one will be, the intent to kill.

We both looked at each other and said “FEAR NOT!”

I laugh and say, It’s amazing in how every ruler is occupied by a heart battle, most will lose like the rest.

John E, I feel the righteous perimeters being down, said Starkill looking around, We must not bow down to anything, or anyone.

Yes, I replied, We must keep our hands and heads up!

Yes, disturb the nest, said Starkill, and she was ready. What’s sad about all of this is, Starkill said sadly, These generations of living people will not know about these deeds.

I know what you mean, I felt and seen this all through the Poetry Train e-journeys.

Don’t be sad John E, no drooping, Starkill said, You have done all you can.

Once we got to Empathy River people were tossing seeds along the banks of the river. Will was laughing at them and said, “All you are accomplishing is feeding the little fish, save the seeds for another time okay.”

They began to trust Will Crinkle more. He was sincere, he too was imperfect. They loved the boys warmth.

I introduced Starkill to Will, and I say, How do we show respect to the Mother of the Hero? I want to look into her eyes, to see if she’s in the trap or is she an accomplice trapper with the Hero, and capital H for Hellion.

“She’ll protect her joy,” Will said. “Mother master at brain and soul washing.”

She must be good at grooming, for him to be so beautiful, so she must be too, Stated Starkill.

A handsome man came to the toy store and spoke with Will, “I ‘am looking for some toys, it is Christmas Eve, and I have been busy busy so I decided to shop before everything was closed.”

“Take a look around,” Will said, “The finest is here.”

The man looked at us all and Starkill last and said, “Yes I see what you mean.”

I looked at this man, and all I could think was war torn souls, hunger, and the laughing bellies of the elite, but then I focused, and good. This was the Garden of Eden all over again. It’s history repeat, and eat here and now, with me and Starkill. I knew from conversations with so called believers of Jesus, and from training no one knew what to say or do, when Satan himself was right in front of you.

Seems to me then and now, they were more afraid of him more than God. The machinating world could not comprehend such deed. I focused on my targets, horns to eardrums. Starkill was on her own, love will prevail said my intuition, her will was free. I was about to break a commandment, commit murder. To kill the greatest murderer in history, and Starkill was my partner in crime, and Will was the only witness sane to clear my name, and what did humanity care.

I looked through the cars on the table, I looked for two long drag cars to be my weapons of choice, drag racing it was, dragging no more. I was in the mood for this act. I was rebuke in the flesh. To my surprise every true friend I ever known was here, they came to the river. They made sure it was a fair fight, and so did my Angels the one on the left and the one on the right.

The Hellion Hero sensed, and machinated quick. One of my sisters appeared out of nowhere, and said, I have a phone call, it is Grandma. I took the phone, and heard her voice, she said she was okay. She sounded so far away. I didn’t know what to believe at first but then I knew, the great spirit would not allow for her to talk to me, so with no warning, like a bad ass boss I conjured good, and lunged both cars into his ears, and choked him to death, and Will tossed his body into the condemned restaurant near the river, and it became clear, and the powers of evil did not disappear. Some one called the law and paramedics came to revive Satan. That’s what they do, they wont let the dead die to be judged, and we that been through this know we are a bit of Frankenstein slug, and most not with a grudge, to be lets say, counting a blessing in eternity.

I stood on a boulder near the river, and spoke a poem.

 

COMING SOON TO CREATESPACE.COM & AMAZON.COM

(work in progress aka to be continued)

ya ya th’C inside th’Circle John E. WordSlinger

http://www.amazon.com/Mr-John-E-WordSlinger/e/B01AF3E55M

https://www.facebook.com/John-E-WordSlinger-875794729144160/

_Book Wishlist:
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photo source:
http://www.pd4pic.com/chair-silhouette-wood-black-background.html