wounded tiger

Happy smiles of golden mask
Which end in tears of solemn rage
Rejected buffoon which plays the fool
& tiger ensnared in cage.
No escape is made for time
for man who tries & dies
on every road I wander down
as time of mine it flies.
but plane shot down & weary ship
Where every wave he sails
Brings down shit like broken masts
& coffins complete with nails.
these echoes made of glories past
Where once i stood and smiled
I by now a distant hero
where every loss is trialled.
Sinking fast as forest glares
a tiger ‘fraid of striking out
my starving dreams i’m weary off
Continue years of drought.
Tiger crawled, approached his prey
Mask worn & manners held
But youthful princess knew my plans
ensured all trees were felled.
With dejected heart I could not close
In dusk I couldn’t approach
& every question asked in glee
Suffered a fatal reproach.
I wished to bite, to lap her up
To tear her clothes & see her sweat
But fate is cruel & such a game
Sees me foiled, & then I’m set.
On long walk home with laughs behind
From crowds of demons who reject
& so I stumble to this lonely spot
Where no-one will detect.
Where no-one sees me cry & bleed
& wish for blissful death
For I tried to break, I tried to strike
I longed for naked breath.
But death comes close & breaks my heart
In darkest night I fail
Her rejection causes such cruel pain
…Under moonlight cold & pail.

~ another utter rout.
© 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

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