The day I took a life.

The needle bleeds.

Pulsing arm reacts and screams.

I feel its numbness. A warm honey fills my mind.

The visions roll.

I see the end of life. Rejoice.

Slowth of thought. I smile at the initial memory of that night.

The golden tube. A tunnel formed of love.

Like sex which smiled, though substance danced.

I pricked myself. Though perhaps she’d stabbed my arm.

I cared no more. My slumber undermined her hot advance.

I slid towards the floor. My brain pulsated, a steady rhythmic drum within the party of my mind.

I could not dance. Nor stand erect as she applied herself to sensual play.

I laughed at her, though my lips curtailed themselves in still & forlorn sensation.

I stared at it. The needle which plagued my arm with pain. Or pleasure. Or maybe post-dramatic penalties of play.

I laughed again – within my skull – at the jest & wit of which I wrote.

The night passed by.

By early morning I had woke.

& dreams of sexual violence & naked ambition with the neighbour’s daughter had turned to peace.

I arose with eyes of sunken solitude. & smiled a weary sigh.

The girl beside me was alone & naked, her perfect body dead.

I kissed her lips & combed her hair, admired her slender form.

I withdrew the needle & wiped off blood, I placed within her hand.

& stumbled home my friends too quick, with secret never told.

That girl had died, my spirit too & thoughts were never shared.

& so tonight I tell the world, my lust for her had killed.

A dedication spent that night, high & sold to hell,

But silent death was her’s instead & never did she tell.

~ a night of needles & strange intoxication. Or was it just giving blood?

© ed simkins

Advertisements

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

“I love you.”

Tell her.
Tell her how I feel inside.
See me cry with pained & scarlet truth.
Watch the rivers flower.

I speak no lie.
A broken man who dies. Eyes which burn & seek & yearn.
Tears roll. & merge with words.
I wish she knew.
I wish that guts were things that changed the world for me,
For mine would spill in granted defeat if only doors would open wide & smile.

I love you.
Your beauty sings.
Each delicate movement, each perfect feature born
You steal my breath.
You ignore my being.

I sleep alone, a ghost in clothes. A memory served with forgotten jest.
Deleted pictures burnt.
How I‘d change the world if god existed or controlled the world the way he should.

& Virgin youth.
With moistened lips & soft curved face. She pains me so; unwelcome frustration.
I cannot take the fruits I seek. Nor pin her down & tender love be made.
Metal bars surround her.
Teased desire.

What use is love?
Or lust?
Or want or dreams?
Abandoned night without her here. I bruise from day to day.
I seek her smiles.
I seek her kiss.
A long, slow, tender, sweet, delicious taste. Her soft young lips which play & shake, her nervous bite.
These the things I know of well.
For each night I dream of you my love. of how in love, in paired embrace, you and I would stay.
Long & take & question why.
that this feeling found, this sensation now
could not, should not, will not last a thousand years.

For if only you knew.
That I love you.
So tell her that from me.
Tell her.
“I love you”

~ When I think of the girl of my dreams.

© Ed Simkins

Breathless.

Heart stops in nights of black.
Time itself unravels above the walls of wire.
Stood here I smile, eyes lit by beauty thrown.
Light of brilliance, curves of power
She stands there, ephemeral, intoxicating fire.
My eternal flame, my loyal love.
She watches me, & speaks to me.
Her sisters watch, from crowds of space,
Veiled clouds, so drunk with life.
My heart it sings, each time she’s there
Majestic goddess, lady of secret love.
Her dress of lace, her diamond jewels,
Her still white face, her frozen stance.
Down here I pray for a love,
Something that she considers true.
I beseech with dreams, I kiss the air.
One night she’ll come, she’ll rescue me.
Send such thoughts that I desire.
Then her daughter & I will profligate,
Will raise a generation in dedication lent,
That cult will grow of shining moon,
& youth will love in midnight mass
That naked flesh will whimper in sweet appreciation
& acclaim the love of the moon’s disciple.
For I am he. The knight of nights.
& I stand here in prayer, looking up at you.
I bow to the moon & fall in love.
Her beauty my appeal, her beauty truth.
For Moon is my mistress, my guardian of the heart.
Princess to my dreams, saviour of my mind.
Each night she appears, love is consumed,
A feast for the heart, an orgy for the soul.

~ As I walk home, I gaze up & I think. Life & My Love, Existence, My Future.

© Ed Simkins

Rejected

failure. defeat. ridicule & anger.
loathing. hatred. Misery & anger.
death. destruction. denied & rage.
vilified. Ostracized. Putrefied page

Wounded. sore. Broken. Dead.
Solemn. Dejected. Rejected. Unwed.
Overwhelmed. Tired. Shattered & glum.
hurting. furious. stupid & dumb.

risking my neck, broken became
intellectual virgin, hiding in shame,
a puppy with sad eyes, butt of a joke.
on opening, a dream, stuttering i spoke.

in darkness, in public, i fell in her flames
escaping in carriage, i sit here ashamed
i tried to communicate, i tried to make bonds
instead i’m a criminal, an evil old con.

failure i said, failure i declare
where is the someone who says they will care.
her pleasantries & nature disfigured her pain
as she ran from the attentions of the mentally insane.

for me there’s no hope, a failure complete
born always, you’ll see, to beat a retreat.
i will die here alone, & in my dreams i will see
nothing but illusions of sad reality.

in which God’s hate is true & my pain is prolonged
& where each day i love, fate does me wrong.
So I sit in the darkness & write out my thoughts
Illustrate the effects of the love I have sought.

~  Above the parapet of life i stretched my head….Result? – a nasty wound to the heart!

(c) Ed Simkins

Stillness

Today I work hard, though there’s not much to be done.
No girls to speak,
No angels to chase.
No dreams to enjoy or places to take.

I thought I’d sit here and ramble
Enjoy the sights of the garden
Speak happy to the flowers
Watch the growth of the buds.

The world is at peace
There’s a silence in the clouds
There’s a roaming delicacy in love
& there’s a quietness in the gym.

I stand here beside you
Staring off into space
Biding my time
Wasting my breath

For though love should be made & the monies collected
Or the bins put out & the showers be switched
I stand here in still harmony
A spaceship in flight.

I look out at the creatures
& I know that I’m one
Fighting to survive,
to love & to kiss.

But the stars are so cruel & god is asleep,
So I stand here in slippers, pondering my thoughts,
Dreaming of a status
In which one day I am king

Til her princess is mine
& she’s holding my hand
When adventure occurs
& we make love on the sand

Dreams are expensive
& Humans a whim
Another cloud drifts by
& I stand here, without sin.

~ A Sunday afternoon pause

© Ed Simkins

The Jump

Night departs, there’s no time to cry,
Cuz I’m dreaming of the things I’ve done gone by,
I’ve called your name, & I’ve asked you out,
There’s no god here girl to make me doubt,
I’ll play the song, I’ll play it loud,
I’ll turn to my window and sing it proud.
People walk by & each look up,
Taking their money I’ll turn and cough.
Standing on the edge, it’s a dream of mine,
Wondering can I fly, I’ll count the time,
Tick tock, tick tock, the beat & pain, the beat & pain,
So out he jumps and he flies on through,
Clouds, the rain, through the sky he flew.
Now no-one stares cause no-one dares,
This man a child who does not care.

He stretches out & he takes his chance,
& crashes through the rainbows as the droplets dance
God he smiles & god he laughs,
For now there’s a man who aint so daft,
His brain is good, his loins are strong,
His heart is beating, ‘future’s long.
No misgivings, or losing sin,
This guy who’s flying, his solo win,
He rocks the world in silent ways,
& kills those haters in gloried days.
This man who flies, this man who soars,
He screams alive in perfect noise,
He breathes such freedom, with eyes of fire,
The beauty of God is his to inspire,
Dreams and nature, the golden two,
Are swords of war he brings to you

A man of steal, a man of love,
The man who jumped now soars above,
With a code of honour, he wears his heart,
He loves her beauty, he stands apart,
He’s above destruction and he sets his way,
For greater Intelligence has won today.
So watch this space & see him sign,
Enjoy the delight in ev-er-y line
& bow down please to God’s new friend,
For in vic-tor-y I now depend.

~ Victory is sweet.

© Ed Simkins

Girl not there.

Window reflects a waiting man,
With collar tight & hat pulled down.
The wind is up & the rain falls fast,
A heavy heart & nervous cast.
Lady vanished or not to face,
As Man stares glumly out at space.
In minutes past his life has changed,
The woman loved has left today.
He waits for bus, he waits for cars,
But puddles rise in waves of stars.
Sunken feeling as lover’s part,
His beauty elsewhere, plays no part.
His clothes soak through & night time calls,
As Moon ascends & Sunday falls.
He‘d hoped to win her through & more,
To see her smile & see love soar.
To dance with her & ask her out,
To tell her feelings or maybe shout.
For as you know, Man’s heart is true,
But broken now, in black & blue,
A simple dream he seeks to own,
To watch in arms desire grown.
But fate has come & intervened,
With sadness found; Shakespearean scene.
Where Romeo finds his princess dead
& lets these things mess with worried head,
& so to cave the man returns,
Writing of a love that burns.
He sits on down & music plays,
In repetition, pain delayed.
False hope my friends bares man no scars,
But bows its head to evening stars.
Tomorrow soon, perhaps he’ll ask,
& find himself in love’s true task,
Man may try, when eyes will see,
Her pretty face, her smiling glee.
& look upon the charms of missing girl,
& discover then, if love unfurls.
Til then He hides & plans his dreams,
Perhaps tomorrow in love He’ll be.

~ No sign of her, but the butterflies persist.

© Ed Simkins

Waitress with a smile

Excited smiles react from the face that broke into a thousand dreams!
How dare she smile when I caught her eye!
How dare she break the solemn look she wore that night!
But how, how magnificent that she did!
Her perfect – & I mean perfect bottom provoked such raucous response
That normal men could not concentrate on food nor friends!
For roaming back and forth & more
Her perfect wiggle and slender, tender, dreaming legs
Rocked my superficial world and broke me so!
How could a gent not look or glance and watch transformed!
Those tight, tight, tight blue jeans!
Those heels that stabbed through each heart beat!
So instead upon her face I look.
Amazed at such a sturdy face, her anger and her focus true.
But then, & oh my friends, must I tell without a lie of beauty told,
Her focus dropped, her image torn, a thousand rainbows escape in joy;
Her smile!
Her smile!
& yes I know I am but king of man’s superficiality!
This that knows no bounds, but how I enjoy! How I enjoy!
The varied dreams that god inspires;
A girlish waterfall of hair, a ponytail that speaks of youth,
A slender waist and lush white skin,
I dreamt and dreamt and dreamt some more
As imagination undressed her there and then!
In one direction the perfect bum,
The other a hidden face of truth.
& so I smile & then my friends, I smile some more & more & more!
For nothing inspires or simply excites so much
As the superficial beauty of a woman’s touch!
My heart is weak & my loins agree,
& I love Athena – my ecstacy!

~ The story of a straight faced girl, who finally broke her innocent face with a delicate smile

© Ed Simkins

Anxious Desire

Hunger burns a fierce image within my mind.
The thought of her, my beauty, festers and seeps and wounds.
Passion builds when man awakes, when I lie in darkness, waiting for the morning sun.
Obsession plagues!
Once seen, my thoughts of her affect.
I cannot eat…or breathe…or focus still.
Headaches form with lack of her.
I cannot see.
I close my eyes & numbness prevails.
She stands there, flowing dress & perfect hair.
I yearn.
Sickness rises. Imagination grasps, asks for her.
This fool deludes, minds eye plays, my throat is dry.
Tightening.
Will I see her? Will I meet her? Will I say her name or run?
Will she smile? Will she talk? Will she even come my way?
A clever man so stupid born.
Abiding desire works its way on in.
I can not focus. I cannot think.
I cannot put my name to pen & scribe an essay full of words which smile for her.
& I struggle to write these words you read.
I breathe but only crazed imagination fueled.
Who’s in control?
I long. I yearn. I ache & dream & watch the lonely ticking hand drift on by.
So slow.
Dreaming thoughts meander past.
A soft slow river of helpless needs.
Fire inside alight & bright,
Imagination burns completely without control.
Already hands are held & smiles amuse
All within the mind of fool.

~ I wish that fate would change!

© Ed Simkins