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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A Day In The Life Of Me.

A cold evening death, stillness in solitude.
The light fades deep; a darkened empty room.
Sun dips head and waves farewell.
Dark mood takes over, sombre tone to tell,
In sands of grey, a mangled wreck
A human tide around my neck
A foreign race of greed & power
Stripping my nation of courage by hour.
St. George he fell in overwhelmed disgust.
While flowers saluted as England lost.
Two camps came clear, one black, one white
An error in the ways of man, so obvious to cite.
& women captured by the folly of their lies
Money, power, greed & comfort, opened wide your treacherous thighs.
I circled the army to which I relate.
The few were dying though but I battled hate.
Yet battle lost I ran inside, a hideous complex, a rich man’s joke
A hideous beast in which I hid, the tears fell from brave mens broke
I punched the terrorists & killed a few,
I ran through buildings, bruised black & blue
I cried for the millions, their mouths shut tight
For no-one speaks when God takes fright.
Collecting swords & thoughts gone past
I escaped outside & screaming fast
I took the soldiers & shook their head
“Follow on!” I cried & the war reset
A growing impulse of right from wrong
& If God were here he’d lead along!
Still numbers rose & the dead lay thick,
I stumbled forward on blood & sick,
I craved my medals, I sought my gold
I stood on limbs & raised their soul
But then I blinked & I was led
To train of strangeness in empty shed
I gazed at girl & stripped her down
Her clothes were torn & flesh was shown.
I bit her lips & loved her skin,
I pushed her round & pulled her in,
She loved her pleasure & I her smile
& echoes filled my ears awhile.
But solemn night now takes control,
& light has faded over lonely soul,
I sit here silent & weary torn,
Intrepid fighter, in tired form.

~ a day in the frightful city; of library, aliens, trains, beauty & interest.
© ed simkins