Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Most recent poems I wrote under the pename: Nakajima99


Huston, This Is Mars
Ayn Rands ghost shadow walked homeless the streets of New Yorkaise searching for his unique Martian lineage, in neo human form, seeing the Mars 2112 nightclub in the light of his solitary existence on earth with its matching Mars 2121 club.
A prophetic dragon’s dream vision propelled him to new metro run blitzing off into a million light year fun. Under the cover of God’s saintly prayer for the masses vanguard psyops persona, he felt tested as an Enigma Cross of Changes, Saint Lucia of the CIA.
The American and British Roswells, just another hi-tech high…till years later I realized all the sci-fi/sci-fact of my youth, and realized that because a real future is part of eternity for once, my dearly departed Papa Jeune’s fear the world will Armageddon disappear is gone. I know it’s hard>but it’s better this way>Word!
By Marc R. Wolsky
aka/BB Ultra
(my blog website)
© 2011 Nakajima99 (All rights reserved)





The Gray of the Wall
They lined up like soldiers in the Confederacy, stern faces eternally
scanning the universe for infinite resolution of chaos and conflict,
feeling awe inspiring harmony as blocks of stone against a grain of
sand. No mere expression of doubt, the Men of the Gray stood
immobile against the Oligarchy hourglass! Their clothes, half
spacesuit, half pajamas. Clinical and whimsical, their ancient creed
always new.
Line up against the wall or the Gray will pull you out of the line-up.
Join the Men of the Gray.

my blog website:
© 2011 Nakajima99 (All rights reserved)


Timeless Beauty
I didn't think I was aging a day
Yet my new bald spot gave it away.
I remember my Peter Pan attitude
from my youth, to my present age,
eclipsing that truth.
As I grew up, I would observe the
gray people of the world and wonder
how I could avoid the grave...They say God saves,
I say God is a machine and keep my image clean.
On the odyssey of my life, doors
magically open and close, leaving me to
be happy in my older life.

my blog website:
© 2011 Nakajima99 (All rights reserved)



Rogue Trader
Armed to the teeth, lawyer's
brief...the James Bond and Che Guevara of finance strike up a
tune to $1.7 million and $7.2 billion.

The US and French doubling
cube chants future and capital, twisting
as colossus titanium
scorched concrete alloy.

Get it straight granite face,
I'm a human torch. Since the 1.7 and
the 7.2 exponentiate at an infinite
calculus rate as the Stasi and
IBM sacrifice low grade ore for
hi-tensile strength.

Per chance to dream a 9/11
scheme, without the Silicon Alley-gate, else there go your

Welcome to my Titan-Siberian dreams.

my blog website:
© 2011 Nakajima99 (All rights reserved)





three point five synthetic ruby reality
ellipsis of ellipsis lying awake by the bonsai tree,
happiness as my last cup of brasserie wine is awakened by ultra psyche lime.

no ambience lacking industrial strength, i buy tomorrow with 100 corporation warrants.
dispel the myth she was an erudite wonderkid, not a wooded nymph...
such a high call to our winter song, waiting on the event horizon for the
IRA/CIA peace dirge to sing as a Papillon chanson!

my blog website:
© 2011 Nakajima99 (All rights reserved)








The call for reason, endless as
a bullet in my brain, incarcerated in
the fruitless Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence.
Lying on the unknown footing of an
antiutopian dream. Littered on this
mindscape is the perpetual nod I feel
toward accepting the more complicated
I don't want to go to
Hollywood with this one, not even
the CIA and the damned president. I
want it clear if there are no
aliens up there, they must be
down here.
The humanity is in the details.

my blog website:
© 2011 Nakajima99 (All rights reserved)