The Return

A greeting to the ghosts and the dreams of my youth!
A returning brave hero now circles his walls.
Dreams are engaged and the photo’s they talk
Of brilliance in day’s & nights in the wood.

Germania she took me and only just left
She slept on my pillow and spoke in my dreams.
Of Laughter and danger, and distance which sped,
Through fields & of worship & heavens which sung.

I come back to you, in the moments that I pause
Drifting through the senses evoked by the thought.
Kisses & smiles & bodies in heat
Nature in blossom, & rivers which seek.

By my side the sweet girl, holding out hand
& Her maps which they roam and flutter unplanned.
Destinations lapped and lost on the road
Sights & equations, secrets untold

Then the times of his trouble, when he fell off his bike
& the blood it ran quickly, congealed & it glowed.
Kissing the floor of the forest so sacred
Naked like a Roman, engaged with relief.

But he’s back now, she’s gone, the fine lady with face
Who’s taking her time to stand at my door.
Invited and undressed she stands youthful, refreshed
Moving me on, this girl I love best.

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Broken

Welcome to the home of the most hated man.
A man who disgusts even himself
& I am that man.
Ugly and foolish, pathetic and weak.
A man who can loves
But witness death in his soul.
Dreams that once blossom cry in the garden
Rain that is pouring
Is years as his driving.
A disaster this evening
Tragic and dull
Woman of beauty
Threatened to kill.
Sunken and discarded
Broken and dead
Rejected like a dumb-ass
Failed in the art.
Blood on his lone wrist
Cut by the knife which wounds as he speaks
Little does she see him
As they dance in the air
What happened to the smiles which protruded and soar?
What happened to the banter that spread into joy?
What happened to promise & desire
& those blissful eyes which gazed into mine?
Suddenly I’m shot,
I’m drowning or I’m cut
Thrown to the wolves like a carcass of distress
All in a word? Or was it a phrase?
I have no idea what happened but I suffer the fall
Glory all gone, dreams lie shattered
Tears in her eyes
Frustration in mine.
The darkness is falling
& the time it gets late
Hence I sit here broken
The famed man of hate.

~ an absolute disaster with HER.
© ed simkins. Joke.

A Tale (of sorts).

a final smile before I close, for I have rose to the greatest mantra of all the gods!
where sun and love mix with fire and strong desire burns in rods of aching want and immense occupations of delight
that if I held my heart tonight such beating fate would have to wait for death to chant the final call,
for as I stand here naked, bleeding, proud and tall, hero of the sordid sword
I laugh and grin upon my win and final battle won in gore
Where maiden hides in crimson tide & virgins smile in yellow hair
And lair of mine which sings in bliss, upon a damsel of passioned kiss
My golden child she takes my breath & bids away a horrid death
As I laugh out loud and tell the world that I have killed,
The echoes of the past.

We battled hard and slaughtered foes, the scarlet tide of a million blows
Dreams which sank in torpid bites, chasing nightmares throughout the night
Where soldiers of war & women of hate, found too late their coffined fall
As screams and sounds of bludgeoned calls & tortured minds which used to angst
& haters sought the questions asked
Why me? she’d say, as knees they fell, and matted head began to swell
The axe was long and angered well, arms they reached and muscles held
Down it crashed in mighty arc, as thunder ripped through hellish dark
The past was dead, she lay there still & all because I’d yet to kill.

So now I’ve found a precious door, dreams of more, ideas of fate
Escaping fields of blood I hate
Chasing thoughts of sweet romance, a hazy notion of sensual dance
Broken hero to king of land, holding beauty by her hand
You see me smiling, whiling through the night,
Knowing the reason for this very fight
That angel stands, horizon far, smiling beauty, yellow star,
A distant dream & so perhaps, and hero knows that time must lapse
But battles more, adventures sown,
will capture soon, the love tis known.

~ inspired by the fun conversation of a beauty known.
© ed simkins

A Request to You.

Hey! I want to ask you something!
A connection made through time.
Though words of deepness made this evening
Elude me through this rhyme.
I wish that we, both you & I,
Could sit and speak & talk,
Or meet one day on earth’s fair land
& converse upon a walk.
My Questions collate & my knowledge seeks
A fertile train of thought
So I approach you friend, in human peace
For a friend is what is sought.
I’m 59 & 23
& all the age between
With kingdoms made & battles won
Romance is but a dream
If naked ladies ruled my world
Or beauty cast its vote
Then soul of mine, in hidden world,
Would ride outside and gloat!
But broken thoughts & failed remorse
Are curses sent to me
Which entrap & bind & tear deep wounds
– Relate no sympathy.
But here I ask & answers please!
I seek your fertile mind!
Suggest a life best led my friends
Of one that I may find.
You think I’m nuts but here I write
As evening sun departs
as pleasing forms of love & youth
Relinquish from my heart.
I wish, I hope, nay I do plead
That beauty could find it’s way
& embellish in sweet perfume & scent
An angel for this day.
But more than this I seek new worlds,
Adventure is my key!
So tell me friends, my dear read,
What direction must I be?
Give hope I ask, or bright advice,
Send ideas o’wonderment,
I need your clever thoughts, your dreams
I need them heaven sent.
with last repose, my last request
– Seriously I ask of thee!
What new adventure could I take
My friends, suggest to me!

~ yes, an actual real life request from me to YOU READER for ideas for a new adventure! I hope you’ll send a few! PLEASE!
© Ed Simkins

Back From Holland

flying with the angels, scared to death of ending
camping in the muddy woods, storm trees are bending,
copies of machines, with riders in all directions,
a thousand windmills & canals, my maps & bright detections,
Amsterdam to Rotterdam, Arnhem & between
A million beautiful buildings; oh the joys I’ve seen!
Statues of Fikkie, Santa Claus, & monuments to the past,
Fortifications of independence which somehow seem to last,
Photos of architecture, mixing up the heights,
Simplicity & grandeur merged with Dutch insights,
Then parading in Brielle, shooting & all those smiles,
Walking all dressed up, crowds were seen for miles!
The colours & the splendour, the fun & all new friends,
Wishing that life’s adventure could stretch without an end
Worichem & Gorinchem, Utrecht & the lost,
From wild camping & roughing it, to hotels bought with cost,
Geertruidenberg & funny smurfs, families of fun,
Broken down in swamp boats, & food enjoyed in sun,
People of perfection, the owners of my dreams,
laughing & a-crying & joking all in streams,
from the bells of old day worship, to the grills of food delight
creating memories of happiness wildly into night
then Arnhem & the war, with death & all destruction,
a blip between the nations, when relations do malfunction,
oh the beauties of the Dutch girls, all cycling along,
all breaking my heart such, that I break out in a song,
a portal in the pyramids & a lake of sleeping beauty,
sadly I head off home then & fly over North Sea,
Eyes full of beauty, from the buildings to the girls,
& memories of the miles cycled or spent in new Dutch world,
Dreams created, fun times had, memories were born
My body sits back home now, but my mind is still forlorn,
In the places I experienced, in the people that I met,
In gratitude I send my smiles; to the Dutch I’m now in debt!

~ The End of My Dutch Adventure 🙂

© Ed Simkins

Fears & Adventure

Cacophony of fear. I’m scared to death.
That dreams should take a final breath.
I fly today. A foreign land.
No love is held. No female hand.
I drown in sorrow. Of loves gone past.
Escape is needed. Escape at last.
I dream of you. an unknown name.
One who dreads & feels the same.
Music soft, & cello played.
Relation past, I wish had stayed.
Panic falls in cold dark tears
As all my hopes they disappear.
I’m scared to death & fate it snares
As aging man I dread to dare.
I’d love again if heart was free
To kiss the wind in symphony.
A perfect love that resonates
in beauty held for which I ache.
Three figures stand around me here
The past, the present & death so near.
The past is her, my broken wife
A girl who died with sacred knife
She slit her wrist to ease the blood
In crimson tide & ending flood.
There’s death that’s close & follows me,
I fear a waiting obituary,
A heart attack or painful fire
Or still alive in burning pyre,
& then there’s dream of porcelain girl,
Who smiles & giggles in dizzy curls,
My sweet desire, my late night fun
The girl to kiss, my only one.
& all around this set of three
Lies orange land & brazen sea
soon escape with mind & heart
& see how God will play his part,
Will I die in flaming wreck?
Or love all night on maiden’s neck?
Obsessed with fate, I’ll avoid the gaze
Of death & try to conquer days,
& maybe then between nightly freeze,
Love’s true call will quickly breeze
Into sight with victory
& send me joyful company.
Let’s hope for love, let’s hope for thrill,
Let’s hope for justice; a new sweet girl.

~ See you all soon. Thank you all for the joy & smiles, support & warmth you’ve brought me on here. More poetry & rambles when I get back folks…

© Ed Simkins

Between Work & Play

cold dark days & headaches form,

brilliant lights explode in mind.

I’m off to war in but a moment,

where dogs and cats will be left behind.

dreams will run or skip and make me smile,

though shadows form in veiled mask!

repetitions blown from the four winds of time,

i sit here frozen, though happy, relaxed.

i could tell you a story of the famous girl,

but i know that tonight you may not care.

My vice is my own and the thoughts are known.

so i’ll just pop upstairs and change for war.

old man clothes, blazer, shirt,

black tie and watch, his pockets clean.

these garbs i’ll drop and out i go,

escape the ritual of a Friday sleep.

all in order to impress the world,

or perhaps i’d say, to make me feel

a slight sense of some human worth,

or if all goes well, the world will smile

& the day will be won, alongside the battle.

for the library’s clean, the kids sent home,

weekend is free and the dreams begin.

who knows what fantasies will blow this mind,

& tease our eyes with skin and heat!

Good night, good night, farewell & night!

~ Friday night & I’m shattered, but free!

(c) Ed Simkins

Travel Fights The Burning Heart

If love were real then dreams would flow,
And silent tears alone would know,
That smoke & hate are haggard’s thoughts,
From rounded women that money bought.
I’d turn to see my golden child,
My pretty girl with pretty smile.
Imagination keeps her there,
In pleasant place where all men stare.
Adventure calls to far off lands,
With dainty girls & youthful hands,
Orange sun & crazy laughs,
Midnight feasts & camping drafts,
I’ll freeze to death in roadside grass,
Unknown to secret lovers past.
I dream of one who love admires,
The girl who lights my yearning fire,
& there she is; naked, toned,
Fantasies, orgasmic moans,
Whose playful whim, which sparkles so,
& teasing actions that makes things grow.
But plane arrives in Amsterdam,
This girl I leave, her biggest fan,
For if I believed in marriage told,
I’d live with her til I was old,
We’d travel much & love much more,
We’d see the Alps & Pacific shore,
Each bridge we’d cross, I’d stop her still,
& kiss her lips & smile in thrill.
Travel becomes a girl so young,
Like music set to sensual song,
We’d sway in June & sleep in May,
Caress her body each gentle day,
Her warmth in soul it radiates,
& fills my heart with love that aches.
& as I plan & flight will take,
Alone I leave, though not forsake,
That precious dream who resides in me,
How I’d travel with her if love could be.
For call me mad, or call me fool,
God lets me dream, though he is cruel,
I wish to love that naked spark,
& leave this love within her heart.
So let me settle with maiden dear,
& I‘d travel not with distant fear.

~ Happy Travel coming, but I dream so much of HER.
© Ed Simkins