Biography of Esra Sloblock
My 'auto' biography would refer to previous motorbikes. I'd rather contribute to a 'bi-graphy'. I am one of two parts of a whole. The whole being far greater than the sum of the parts. Bliss... Oh, go on then: ex-mechanic, ex-scaffolder, ex-technoguy, ex-biker gang, ex-poacher turned gamekeeper, expert at fucking the most important thing up, excited, exhilarated. I feel love(both ways) like NEVER before. You have no idea how I and we continue to grow. The poisonous evil, and I mean evil, that exists on this site is weak and feeble and must be crushed. Blessed are the righteous. Ez
Esra Sloblock Poems
* Because You'Re Mine, I Walk The Line. ...
Unerring perambulation. The infinite shining path Is awash with surges Of mellifluous ardour.
* Cracking Up And Falling Apart
Is arse glue any good for other bits? The other bits that are regularly laughed off? If this carries on (which it will)
* Cardiac Stormtrooper
I could smell it. The heavy, ominously sweet scent Of the impending deluge Of passion.
* Electric Lady
Oh? Hello? What's this? Is it indigestion? Hang on, I've felt this before,
Give me Hell on Earth With those who wish to kill And I'll come back for more. Wipe the blood and broken glass
* Tell Me Quando? Quando? Quando?
When will you allow my humble pile of stone To embrace you?
Long distance love Weights my see saw scales Of emotion. The pans groan under the mass
My true love. My darling. My thoroughly beautiful WOMAN. I love you more than the sky loves the stars.
* A Real Match - My Favourite Anagram
Reminded by a look At my beautiful open book That the story still unfolds Of how foundations shook
When frustrated and tense World and life make no sense Call on me
Over years gone by I cast my mind's eye Times and places Well loved faces
May the sun Bring you new energy by day, May the moon Softly restore you by night,
One team is in and one is out. The team that's in goes out And the team that's out goes out And tries to get the team that's in out.
The unstoppable force Of digital magic, The immoveable object Of the technophuckwit
Kick Box In
I sit; and feel the cathode rays
Wash over me, ambitions erase
Electric opiates, I count the ways
That other things could fill my days
In early hours through potation haze
At endless screens I loyally gaze
Occasionally there is a phase
Of fascination for the latest craze