A late night fest.

Mute cacophony of ideas
Dreams which end, perplex & roll around to play games in the sand.
A water leaked.
Late night issues & forgotten themes.
Who cares but nobody for the dreams which died.
Incest gave way to passion & planets spun.
Midnight ramble.
Heavy hand broken on repeat.
Can u understand the criteria of the late night sleep?
Drug induced?
Apartment sworn.

Her clothes were torn.
Knees showing in pads of white,
Distance drowning in some foreign air,
Warplanes ran.
She rued the injustice of other people’s wars.
& all the time I coloured text upon the wall.

Final hours stay alert in orange flames of death.
Crimson cigarettes pass from lips.
Youth was a name I knew before.
Braided hair lost its appeal.
I cried when the dog in space died this afternoon.
& Jane was a stranger sold as slave.
Was sex always supposed to be free?

Money buries the dead in sheets of grey
& pauses wait patiently for each man to fill.
What would you say if you were here?
Or alive?
Would you talk to god about the football scores?
Or ask him if you could seduce the neighbour’s daughter?
I live on an island of solitude
Where no respect is given for deeds.

I suppose you should sleep now huh?
Bed yourself in clouds of work.
Could you think of me as I alert the police & ramble fine mosaic words across the sky,
Silent dreams of sex & angels.
Time to plug in the blanket of love & hope & peace.
I wonder if you will say how clever I am?
Is it not good that I can count the stars upon the back of my head?
Girls or drugs or both I ask
Imagine
& then step forward to illustrate the aim of all escape.

Goodnight or morn & salutations.
Robot greased & sleep ensues.
A late night fest.
I take my rest
& bid all thee farewell my friends.

~ I suppose sleep is a valid concoction. I should try it sometime!
© ed simkins

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Pictures of a war wound.

A liar
A thief
A bitch who destroyed
The world was your oyster now you’re wrapped up with boys
Hard to believe the fall from your grace
And how many details fell from your face?
The smiles & the winks
The honesty you brought
Love was a dispute, one that I fought.
I couldn’t pretend; ‘not an actor like you
Someone who could deceive the world like you do
Now see how the baby’s crying in its lair
Picture to the world – that’s the one you will share.
But what of the others?
What of your life?
I loath you bitch, you cancerous wife!

So I’m angry, you accuse
You’ll spin out your lies
& tell the whole world it was me who had died.
You’ll point to the direction of my tears that you caused
And laugh at the pictures of my heart on the floor.
Well maybe it was good that you died in the night
For I can’t honestly say I miss all those fights
But you should have done better, you should have done good
and known and respected the king from the hood
but you killed him, deceived him & let him fall down
then broke me and hurt me and threw out my crown
so what now my lover, my fatal femme noir
a whole life of worship for the girl you now are?
Or will we once more, meet in the night
& see how things are, try as we might
For illusions are many and there’s much to debate
Or a least a good beating for the woman of hate
Good night I say now & I’ll bid my farewell
Thanks for the poison & the visions of hell
Silence is golden & my world is death’s door
Hope is my friend & I give you no more.

~ on seeing old lies & illusions.
© ed simkins