Retreat

Time
Eroding life
With pulsing beats of death.
Brain rotting
Failing
Dying.

A whole day of wonder
Distinguished by emptiness.
& I sleep by the graves alone.

Tonight will be painful.
I must gallop to the junction of the past & my dreams.
& I know I will I fail
I’m struggling now.

Hero of want
With the darkest of minds.
A mind which sinks from a single sharp thought.
A balloon deflated, pricked by reality.

A man who has everything
Gathers & sits.
Worn out by thinking.
Drugged by illusion.
Bled dry by fate.

But soon I will venture
For another mad escape.
I will run to the shops & buy thoughts for the dead.
Fool by a grave stone
Honestly tortured
Feeling sick with the worry
That one day I’ll wake up
& notice life passed.

Herein an example;
A day of no purpose
Lost deep within here
Mind stuck, no solution.
Mid afternoon & time to relapse
Bed calling for sorrow, a book & collapse.

Escape from the pain
The anger, frustration.
In bed I will dream
A hero untamed.
But there I am conquered
Withdrawn from the light.
& shallow thoughts burden.
I’m tired of the fight.

~ a single moment & the lights are switched off inside & the eagerness is gone.
© ed simkins

Advertisements

Mind of many colours.

Phallic open handed gestures of tame white thoughts
Dreams which bubble from broken mirrors
“cry for freedom!” the young child screams
But her father shocks the neighbours in lauded nights.

See the mice play in terrored homes
Where will the cats play if not outdoors?
“Alcohol, alcohol! Blame it on the alcohol!”
But here I am stained in tea drunk whispers.

See the splashing collapse at the end of sex
Beds of fire bring in youth
Ecstatic expressions line the wall
As she, the daughter of death, perpetuates the lie

& If I could hold on to the golden jewels
Then I would be a rich king too.
Leaks in the fabric of space surround
while the army of lovers jump through cartwheels to draw their friends.

Now illuminated pictures of photo frames
Talk amongst the monks at night or play
& Priests & film noir actresses converge in June
To each now attend a foreign room of sin

My easing time produces mixed up fears
Tor these are the days when drugs are smoked
Do you remember just before the race
When time & kissing were friends engaged?

So leave me now, in days of gore
The blood of virgin skin has broken through her veins
The sheep will mock this tale of love
Though I bow down to kiss her bum.

A night upends & crashes the wall of sleep
Exploding man has settled down, benign
His rein of insidious thoughts & rhyme
Brings forth post moronic lust & sleep.

~ a story of how to crash & burn at 3am
© ed simkins

Midnight Suicide.

Hurting.
Crying.
Another late night.

Falling.
Breaking.
Mind caving in.

Face wet with tears
Heavy hand burdened
Death blowing sweet kiss.

Days end in collapse
Strength an illusion
Pathetic humiliation.

Unable to break out
Frustrated by limits
Entrapped by my dreams

Screaming through these old ribs
Frightened by my own age
Terrified by hers.

Loser to everything
Hated by all
Unknown by everyone

Dreams an illusion
Empty with frustration
Once was a child.

Exhausted by fighting
Missing her last kiss
Afraid of tomorrow

Desperate to return
To the days of my kingship
So long without love

Expressing my failure
Knowing my weakness
My midnight suicide.

~ what more needs saying? Another painful night.
© ed simkins