I cry for Earth.

That god hates the world is true.
No man nor power would suffer this world for fate
No jest exists in mythical beasts of sky
Or heavens sold for departed faith.

I call, like Nietzsche, to rid the world
Of angry, joyless human beings
I’d bin such men well in discarded rubbish brought
& bid all of life farewell, unkind.

The flowers & the plants are friends today,
The only scrape of purpose left in life
Save the planet they say & think
Of peace brought at our human cost.

A world of beauty, true & clean
The honest play in sacrificial game
Where power takes its central role
& no sacred lies are told to hide its crown

The weak are dead & flowers grow
Numbers of the sane in check & then
Survival kept by those deserved
& beauty seen by god’s true crowd.

But a frightful race which mocks, destroys & kills;
A hideous bunch of selfish voices
Ego’s spilt on prisoned floors
& all for the murder of precious dreams

So who is god that partakes, allows
A creature known as sick or base
Allows the wonder of the world to die in pain
As the foul stench pervades, expands.

I miss my earth
I miss the times spent in beauty known
Imprisoned now within the terror of a sick social fate
Where no-one cares & no-one knows.

I wish that beauty had conquered all.

~ nature versus the race of man.
© ed simkins

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Sheep Less Cold

Sheep attack on these darkened days, once the masters sleep and brains removed

the men they lust, the women bicker and all the children scream and howl.

let moon rise up and tides reveal a phantom phlegm of human past

a knife is drawn and leader’s back is drenched in Ceaser’s blood.

the sanity of the world has failed and brainless zombies take over

Nietzsche’s eyes they roll and squirm as UberMenshce are shot

He cries out proud & rather loud in failed pain, his intellect destroyed

for what use now is mental thought, when sheep are flocked and led.

the human race a failed dream of greed and hate and selfish deeds

i’d rather be in frozen cave than surrounded there in misery.

with whispers lied and bullshit spoke, what chance the few with brains

this tortured life in fields of sheep, where power corrupts unnamed.

i look to you as strange relief, to reveal the truth within

that people lie and kill and cheat, that few deserve to live.

when money and deceit is all that’s left, we start the modern world

my escape to woods is holy news, for lies are killed by nature

and the emptiness of their opinions backed by hope and prayer and gossip.

if god existed rather than a story born, in a cave would he rest and smile

for if he knew the bullshit of the pain, this human race he’d cull!

now pander to the lame and free! reduce the grips of law!

speak of weather being ‘less cold’ he says or or of illusions of geometry,

science forms a basic rock but the sheep in groups disdain

and force the bright to begrudge defeat through numbers of lies not thought.

~ On the inequalities & stupidity & ignorance of society

(c) Ed Simkins

:) Happiness In Books :)

I couldn’t help but grin, for god was watching from the corner of the room.

He loves books as much as me you see.

He smiled and laughed and my cheeks grinned as she walked into the room.

I find it difficult now to say, but my face explains it all. Alight & burning smiles, a volcano to the world.

Egyptian replacement was back today. A mystery enshrined in beauty.

Boy, my God was happy! He danced and skipped and clapped his hands, oh how he loves to tease!

I pinned her down, but only by her sweet smooth shoulders did I touch..

Her dress was closed and beautiful, her eyes were flames of youth.

She smiled.

God closed in and watched. What a kick he was getting out of this. His Imagination burned.

She giggled and laughed and her sexy body wriggled like a dancing dream.

Oh how the sun shone through that morning haze.

Books were ripped and thrashed and pages turned and skipped. Her tender, delicious neck alive in childish girlish heat.

& God clapped & bounced with joy. That fool who loved to play.

Her ticklish behaviour aroused suspicion, much merriment & joy.  She stood & smiled.

Egyptian hair & eyes of stars, her pale flesh was yet to sweat, though fire raged on crimson lips.

She spoke & thanked me of my kindness, she giggled once and hugged me well.

I stroked her neck & wished her luck as her journey began in earnest.

Immaculate paintings and soft voice recall a hour or two of loving meditation with her.

& In sad demise did God approach and ask me how i felt.

I replied with keenness & foolish grin of how i wish to repeat and more.

& God’s angel left the library soon & books in hand collected

I sat and dreamt and dreamed some more and yellow hair was gone.

(c) Ed Simkins

~ the pleasure of beauty & books