New Future Fantasy – Riddle Love


Riddle (RIDDLE), Riddle (RIDDLE), Riddle (RIDDLE), Riddle (RIDDLE),

Time to juggle is not (JUGGLE IS NOT)
Time to juggle sure what (JUGGLE SURE WHAT)
Time to juggle gone got (JUGGLE GONE GOT)
Time to juggle cold hot (JUGGLE COLD HOT)

Time to come
Come naughty numb
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID
Come naughty numb
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE),

How you quibble this that (QUIBBLE THIS THAT)
How you quibble where at (QUIBBLE WHERE AT)
How you quibble sharp flat (QUIBBLE SHARP FLAT)
How you quibble dog cat (QUIBBLE DOG CAT)

How you come naughty numb
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE),
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE),
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE), riddle love,

Riddle (RIDDLE), Riddle (RIDDLE),

Us who shuffle will might (SHUFFLE WILL MIGHT)
Us who shuffle sweet spite (SHUFFLE SWEET SPITE)
Us who shuffle left right (SHUFFLE LEFT RIGHT)
Us who shuffle day night (SHUFFLE DAY NIGHT)

Us who come naughty numb CAUGHT MID
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE),
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE), riddle love,

Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE),
Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE), riddle love,

Come naughty numb CAUGHT MID thought hid we riddle (RIDDLE), riddle (RIDDLE), riddle love,


New Future Fantasy – Desire’s Dream


Revealed, turned on
Awoken by our sleepy season
Conception’s quiet design
Inside love’s petty play

Concealed, burned, gone
Unspoken by our rapid reason
Exceptions quite divine
Collide life’s dizzy day

Now all is one so none can sever
Clever done by heaven to redeem
Rein the main endeavour
To forever face the blinding beam
And chase desire’s dream.

Realised bright, clear
Protected by our passive power
Attraction’s very soul
Soft sings love’s giddy game

Surprised right here
Perfected by our fickle flower
Distraction’s rigmarole
Fast flings love’s fleeting flame

Now all is fundamental matter
Running through a universal theme
From each tiny tatter
This then that must race the slippery stream
And chase desire’s dream.

All is one so none can sever
Clever done by heaven to redeem
Rein the main endeavour
To forever face the blinding beam

All is one so none can sever
Running through a universal theme
Rein the main endeavour
To forever race the slippery stream
And chase desire’s dream.

Indian Constellations

My friends and I were ripe with wanderlust. Flushed with our successful A level results we were full of eager optimism, savouring the first bloom of independent adulthood. We determined to go on a tour of exotic locations, exploring the strange lands of the mystical East. With a keen spirit of earnest camaraderie we were soon on the magic bus, tripping through the weird dream regions of our bizarre itinerary.

After many adventures on our transcendental travellings we all felt the call of home. As we were soon passing an international Japanese airport we decided that we would stop there, leave our cosy coach, and catch a flight straight back to our normal lives. In the meantime I curled up on my cramped seat to get some sleep, as all this excitement had left me exhausted.

But I slept too long, as when I awoke all my companions were gone and my flight home was far behind. It seems that my so-called comrades had thoughtlessly disembarked without waking me. I was hurt and disappointed at their apparent selfishness, and the lack of that fellowship so evident at our journey’s start.

Then I became aware of new passengers who had replaced my old colleagues, fresh explorers on this mystery tour. As they chatted in their familiar cliques I felt somewhat alone, although these fledgling tourists were in no way hostile or alien to me, most of them seeming to be well mannered young Americans.

By now night had fallen and our extraordinary excursion had reached the ancient pagan panoramas of India. I looked out of the windows to see vast black-green plains passing by, seemingly stretching forever in awesome vistas of rich sombre shadow. Then my sight was brilliantly distracted by the sky, which glittered bursting with a prodigious array of the most fantastical stellar constellations. It was as if all the stars had moved that much closer to Earth, and multiplied into celestial formations of dazzling esoteric abundance. Despite the uncomfortable ride in this battered old vehicle on a bumpy dirt road, I was totally captivated at the pure beauty and spectacular wonder of this exquisite vision.

I knew that synchronicity had favoured me by misfortune, leaving me deserted in this secret scene of cosmic consciousness. It appeared that the universal striving for self knowledge had come a giant step closer, and was using my perception and understanding as a means to its realisation. I recognised the yogic wisdom of the way things are and always will be, which now illuminated my very soul. I felt blessed to be observing this most precious picture, and sorry for my fleeting friends who will never witness such an incredible wonder. For me life would never be the same again.





“Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream” – Stevie Wonder.

One midwinter’s evening I was at home, deep in mindful meditations, completely detached from the weird-wild-world. Suddenly my regal reveries were rudely interrupted by violent bangs. These appeared to be happening simultaneously at both my outer door and window. They were accompanied by urgent shouting.

I recovered my composure and, barely suppressing my fuming indignation, opened the door. I was confronted by two uniformed police offices, whom I later learnt were PC Andy Bland and PC Becky Junket. Holding me in a steady stare the tall, heavily built male officer attempted to adopt a mien of civility, and started to explain himself. He articulated that on the previous evening they had received a telephone call, purportedly from someone passing by my house. Apparently this prying busybody had reported hearing the words “Die, die, die.” being roared from my room. A short time later they had responded to this allegation by visiting my dwelling, but they failed to gain my attention, so they left.

Returning the constable’s slightly pathetic glare I calmly informed him that this was probably a misunderstanding. I recounted how I was singing my song “Ego War” during the time in question. As this voice part requires a forceful, aggressive delivery, this could have been misconstrued by my nosey neighbour. I pointed out that this composition did not, however, contain the words in question.

It was clear that the suspiciously disposed State bully did not believe me. In a feigned manner he casually asked me if it was alright if his colleague and himself came in to my flat to look around, to check that everything was alright. I resolutely refused his request. Immediately his attitude changed to outright hostility. He declared that my demeanour was grounds for suspicion, stating that I was nervous and anxious. I retorted by spelling out that any unusual behaviour on my account was obviously a direct consequence of these sudden and unexpected circumstances, and was therefore no reason to violate the sanctity of my personal space. But the fool had already made up his mind. He quoted section 17 of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984 as giving him the legal power to enter my property, forcefully if necessary. Then, after a cowardly radio call to his station for backup he ,together with his partner, stepped across my holy threshold and did a cursory search of my abode, making sure that they poked their snouts into every apartment. Of course they discovered no evidence of any unlawful activity. Indeed PC Bland unsuccessfully tried to hide his embarrassment when he found clear confirmation of my veracity, seeing my vocal microphone ready on its stand and plugged into my music studio. Then, without even the common decency to apologise, they summarily left.

The actions of the police were clearly unlawful. The legislation they relied upon, specifically PACE section 17(1)e, only allows for entry when there is a critical need for prompt action to protect life or property. If this was the case then they should have obtained access on their first visit. They never directly witnessed or observed any cause for reasonable suspicion or alarm. If they wanted access after their initial visit they should have obtained a search warrant. Their spurious justification that my demeanour was evidence of wrongdoing is a dishonest trick, regularly used by the police when they bully innocent suspects into a state of fear and agitation.

Subsequently I repeatedly tried to obtain an account of this event and the names of the officers involved from my local police, but they ignored my many requests. Eventually I had to get the help of my MP Frank Weasel, who obtained the following report;


Good afternoon,

Police were called on the 11th January at 1915 by a passer by who could

hear ‘DIE, DIE, DIE’ being shouted from an address. Officers attended at

the time and having investigated believed noise may have come from the

ground floor flat. They were unable to gain access to the flat.


Officers attempted to retry the address the following day. At 1827 hours we

arrived at the address and tried ringing the doorbell to no answer. We

could hear voices from the address and lights were on. Having knocked on

the door and window multiple times, eventually the subject answered.


The subject was sweating, shaking and raising his voice. He was shouting

about how we couldn’t come in to his flat. Due to the ‘DIE,DIE,DIE’ remarks

and his demeanour I informed him that I would be gaining entry under powers

conferred on me under S17 of PACE to ensure that there was no one hurt or

injured in the property. No force was used but subject continued shouting



I offered to give my details and explain things in more detail multiple

times but Mr FANTASY continued shouting. I remember that I explained clearly

who I was and what I was doing throughout the call.


To Clarify Myself and PC Becky Junket from the Deep State Central Police Force entered Mr Fantasy’s address under section 17 PACE.

Please let me know if I can be of any further assistance,

Regards PC Andy Bland.


Although this account contains the usual police inaccuracies, exaggerations, omissions and outright lies, it is still by itself evidence enough to show that their entry was illegal. Meanwhile semi-anarchy looms throughout our so-called society, seemingly to the indifference of the State and its so-called Police Service.


I am now suing the police for their unlawful action.

This account is the copyright of New Future Fantasy 2018.

It is a work of fact and fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the Mr Fantasy’s imagination or happened for real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events could be coincidental.

Am I a threat to the State? Am I bad for the neighbourhood? Am I a cause for reasonable suspicion? Is my voice and poetry criminal? You can judge for yourself here,,,,



Just So – A musical poetical montage,,,,

My Sacred Heart – Lyric Video

The Will – Art Lyric Video

Psychoblues – Lyric Video

Obsession – Lyric Video

Strange Changes

My midsummer’s day song,,,,

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