Tripping on illusions

I’m not sure.
It’s all bizarre.
Maybe I’m dead.
Or lost.

The sun’s out.
The clouds are rolling.
Things just seem strange.
Not quite what I expected.

Last night I was at her door
I was smoking the air
I was straining to pretend she stood there
Smiling in her fluffy blue dressing gown.

I laid down my roses
Wished that she’d see them
Wished that she knew I’d been there
Wished that she’d call me

But death is a strange friend
One who just whispers
Reminds you of truth
Shows you the futility of dreams.

So I kissed you on your forehead
The way I always used to do before
I stroked your nose & saw you smile
I never knew love could feel so good

& then a shadow you became
& i’m back here in my garden
My mind is tripping with illusions
A late night expedition to the old house of love

My dreams are that something new would occur
Something amazing would grip me by my heart
That she or you would come & hold my hand
That the dreams would come to fruition.

I’d like to experience something like that again
Something pulsing like fresh blood through my veins
I’d like this summer sun to witness romance
& paint the flowers which I see in shades of love.

So I’m not sure you see
Not sure what this day is I hold in my thoughts
& I’m tripping on illusions
& I’m wishing in the garden.

~ You know that I love her, but I want to experience this life.
© ed simkins

Late Night Dreaming

I wonder what its like to wake up with someone dear
To hold them & giggle, or to just fall in love
Again, like you did the night before.
To walk in places with the eyes of the young
When her smile warms up the golden sun
& her laughter is music which sings all day.

I wonder what taste is a kiss filled with tears when love is all too great
When her eyes are sobbing & loving & the pain engulfs you in a wonder so tall
That the power of her passion fulfills you with love
& sets fire to your soul for you know she’s the one.
Or she winks at you in pleasure & tickles your heart
With the softness of her pleasure & stirs up such excitement
Which conquers all of time & turns it into fragrant flowers.

I wonder the sensation of holding a hand, a tale of youth
Which glides, entwines & forces such sweet smiles
A hand that is always there, a hand that always cares
Stroking & supporting, pulling you close, leading you in
& then those dreams of her sweet lips, a mad midnight, a sacred kiss
Fun fallacy of hope from her & wild whispers of luscious love.

& I wonder the nature of her being, when the world is shared in enjoyment seen
Fun games & parties, silly tricks & dance
Rooms full of makeup, clothes & belongings.
Clutter in the new world where sanity once prevailed
The combs to her cute curls, the purses to her heart
Holders of her sweet dreams, keys to your front door.

& I wonder what I’d experience if love once more ensnared
Appetite for destruction or the making of a great man?
Lost in a heartache or the sanity of new bliss?
For dreams that I have now, shared with another
Fallen in love & headstrong romance
I wonder if all dreams, all crazed fantasies, would wonder of love as well.

~ late night dreaming indeed. A heavy night of too much bad thought.
© ed simkins