Amusement held in unfettered bottles.

Ah!
The warm remedial taste of alcohol.
A sensation flowing through the chest of death.
Intoxicating dreams which surf along the waves of youth.
I drown.
& tales of life do not care.
I sing for you.
An illusion of such great fallacy that none shall know the truth!
& another swig.
Eyes which set themselves alight flutter in the darkness of the night.
& dreams of existential fashions collect within my mind.
& the feelings of someone’s naked body disappoints.
A girl of such honesty & prettiness that none will call her truth.
But in these nights of liquid desire, I drink her in with lust.
& succulent prepositional age & form will whimper in the night.
Small & callous are the nouns for this!
I drink.
A final desert of sweet Athenian nectar plays with me.
I smile.
In peevish anticipation of the world tomorrow & all its charms.
I saw my friends today.
& all who spoke lied!
As is the nature of man.
I stumble to the wrong room & fall beside her.
A naked man beside a naked princess.
Tears form in Amazonian flood as I perceive the danger of where I am.
I roll & stumble. A floor line trace is safer than inside the girl of my dreams.
& so I snore.
Fate has saved me from a prison cell indeed.
But heavy hand holds her wrist
& the thoughts of her are always there.
Unconscious sounds
& the days epiphany is that I should not drink again.
& I wont.
The bottle to which I fetched some fourteen minutes ago Is like my life upon this floor;
Empty & insured against a fateful death.
I bid you goodnight & sleep.

~ the downside to drink in the middle of the night.
© ed simkins

The day I took a life.

The needle bleeds.

Pulsing arm reacts and screams.

I feel its numbness. A warm honey fills my mind.

The visions roll.

I see the end of life. Rejoice.

Slowth of thought. I smile at the initial memory of that night.

The golden tube. A tunnel formed of love.

Like sex which smiled, though substance danced.

I pricked myself. Though perhaps she’d stabbed my arm.

I cared no more. My slumber undermined her hot advance.

I slid towards the floor. My brain pulsated, a steady rhythmic drum within the party of my mind.

I could not dance. Nor stand erect as she applied herself to sensual play.

I laughed at her, though my lips curtailed themselves in still & forlorn sensation.

I stared at it. The needle which plagued my arm with pain. Or pleasure. Or maybe post-dramatic penalties of play.

I laughed again – within my skull – at the jest & wit of which I wrote.

The night passed by.

By early morning I had woke.

& dreams of sexual violence & naked ambition with the neighbour’s daughter had turned to peace.

I arose with eyes of sunken solitude. & smiled a weary sigh.

The girl beside me was alone & naked, her perfect body dead.

I kissed her lips & combed her hair, admired her slender form.

I withdrew the needle & wiped off blood, I placed within her hand.

& stumbled home my friends too quick, with secret never told.

That girl had died, my spirit too & thoughts were never shared.

& so tonight I tell the world, my lust for her had killed.

A dedication spent that night, high & sold to hell,

But silent death was her’s instead & never did she tell.

~ a night of needles & strange intoxication. Or was it just giving blood?

© ed simkins

Naked Apparitions

Raised skirt hides her buried addiction.
Words that flow through broken mind.
I Sleep.
& Dreams begin.
I lie here. A naked astronaut lost in space.
Smoking ideas. Laughing in the quietness of my mind.
I smile. Though I cannot move.

Girl approaches.
The most beautiful vixen on the planet.
Her skin is hot. Her hair flows & her eyes alight.
I’d eat her if I could.

She swirls. A soft spin.
She scratches me.
Her poisonous talons bleed my arms. Muscles ache in yearning.
My dreams are lead. A spirit heavy with drink.

Her lips are moist. I see them glisten. I wish to stroke.
But fortune only pays for easy street walkers.
& She does no harm.
Smoke inhaled. Fluorescent red floats past.
& I rip the air in front of her.
She sweats.

White dress lolls on sheepskin floor. I love this child.
She is stoned & oh so cute.
She kneels before me as I lie on pandered chair. She looks up & I cusp her face in peace.

I kiss her & the dream begins again. Arousal starts in smiles which form across her youthful face.
An edible creature made from desire. I want her. I sought her. & in my mind I now possess her.
This crimson lipped goddess will know of truth tonight!
Will writhe with childish nervousness & focused ecstasy.

This is the girl I tell you about.
This is the girl who knows not of bliss & wanton lust.
Seduce her god & let me tease her.

For care for her I would .
& guide her sordid life, or best corrupt her myself.
& how much would we….or i….enjoy such bliss?
& so I smile.
& sleep.

a kiss.

~ a single kiss. A gentle tender hug of love. I would lead her well.

© ed simkins

Unfocused Satisfaction

Cello plays. Soft thoughts mount. Confetti falls. An empty dream.
I pause for breath.
Skip to the end. Let’s play tonight. Let’s drink some food. Let’s play for stakes.
Or fail & cry & laugh some more.
Entry point. A scarlet girl. Her lipstick collar. I don’t care what you say.
I’m a spider. A word leak. A fountain of truth.
She calls. I hate her voice. The TV’s on, but I can not watch.
I turn to you & watch you fly. You’re drugged. The sky’s so dark.
My light illuminates the earth. The moon will disappear.
My fingers fly. I talk a million different shades of wrong. No need to fuck. Girl is naked.
A clothed horse goddess of a drunken industry. Whore? Or heaven sent?
I pause. Breath satisfies.
Call for more wine & spill my disease.
She smiles & I strip. She steals my clothes. She runs away & the music grows.
I slip – repeat.
A final draft. A hidden couch. The girl in white satisfies my hunger by blowing me.
A filthy thought. A nasty end. A pleasant crisp. Smoke. Lights dazzle.
Slow, slow, slowing down. White wine & collarbone.
Kisses of a hot head. A desire. No bed needed when the lakes are full of soft flesh & dreams.
White water rapids. Illegal pleasures. Eyes steam as I fulfil my needs.
Red lights, bright lights, walking away. Tiredness slumbers. The girl is gone.
The party’s over. Goodnight to the life. Car speeds.
The music electric, eclectic, darkening screams.
The people are younger. The distance approaching.
The edge takes over.
I fall.
The end.

~ Listening to The Verve, my head began to spin.

© Ed Simkins