Pictures of a war wound.

A liar
A thief
A bitch who destroyed
The world was your oyster now you’re wrapped up with boys
Hard to believe the fall from your grace
And how many details fell from your face?
The smiles & the winks
The honesty you brought
Love was a dispute, one that I fought.
I couldn’t pretend; ‘not an actor like you
Someone who could deceive the world like you do
Now see how the baby’s crying in its lair
Picture to the world – that’s the one you will share.
But what of the others?
What of your life?
I loath you bitch, you cancerous wife!

So I’m angry, you accuse
You’ll spin out your lies
& tell the whole world it was me who had died.
You’ll point to the direction of my tears that you caused
And laugh at the pictures of my heart on the floor.
Well maybe it was good that you died in the night
For I can’t honestly say I miss all those fights
But you should have done better, you should have done good
and known and respected the king from the hood
but you killed him, deceived him & let him fall down
then broke me and hurt me and threw out my crown
so what now my lover, my fatal femme noir
a whole life of worship for the girl you now are?
Or will we once more, meet in the night
& see how things are, try as we might
For illusions are many and there’s much to debate
Or a least a good beating for the woman of hate
Good night I say now & I’ll bid my farewell
Thanks for the poison & the visions of hell
Silence is golden & my world is death’s door
Hope is my friend & I give you no more.

~ on seeing old lies & illusions.
© ed simkins

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DIATRIBE TO DEMOCRACY

i’m screaming and I’m angry & I got rage in my eyes
& I’m fed up with bullshit & their fucked up lies
They tell me to vote, yeah they tell me to cast
They tell me to ignore their mistakes in the past
“Yeah, come on vote, c’mon, give it a try!
Then see if I care cause I just waved you goodbye
Or was that a finger I flipped as I opened the door
& took back this country like money & a whore
I’m screwing you up and there’s nothing you can do
Oh what’s that saddo, you’re going to complain to who?
Well, big deal you idiot, I’m in power don’t you see
& Like all politicians, I lie intentionally!”
& with that in he entered the door of number ten
Not caring with his riches if he saw me again.
Cause he’s smug in his world & he’s now got control
& he knows that we’re fucked, he don’t care for our soul
The system is fixed and they don’t care about that
The bankers, the illegals, the laywers, all twats
But scary in their power and their safe with their king
Sneering at the honest, hard working weaklings
& look at the ratings, look how it’s screwed
What chance did we have when you see how it’s viewed?
The Scottish minority who outnumber the rest
& the fed up true English, who the rest like to jest
& even in England, where the red came so close
The patriots stood up, but died with a dose
Of lies & deception, where the system cares not
For the numbers who scream & give a fucking jot
No need for heroes, intellects or brains
Let the stupid give out handouts to the mentally insane
Just let us suffer, its not like we care
We’re just fucking idiots, no you don’t need to share
So, here take my hard earnings, yeah give them away
Rip me off & fuck me, give to the weak who know how to play
give me nothing in return, I DO mean literally
cause I do ‘love’ the system & the rich men who hate me
but here in my cave, my hole in the ground
here I surrender to the stupid who have found
A way of holding me down, cause I’m no freeman you see
I’m just chained in my country, a slave of ‘democracy.’

~ 2015 – & democracy is alive & well. BULLSHIT. BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/election/2015/results

Awoken by dreams.

My bed aches in misery. Fact.
A frozen blanket of time & memory.
Filled with dreams from old.

Thoughts that capture you.
I hate you.
You left me scared & broken.

Your memory stood there this morning.
A vengeful palace of words so stern.
Vivid dream that bit. & cut eternal deep.

I’m angry.
& I despise you for the details you provide.
Standing there accusing me. How dare you.

You told them lies.
Strangers that I never knew; your family of fear & daily deceit.
You told them lies. & broke me with their hate.

How could you lure me last night?
How could you stand there naked? Make me dream of your flesh that burns.
Smooth & still & screaming seduction. Always bribing.

Tonight I’m sick. & I don’t expect you to care. I know your thoughts.
You appear in dreams & wake me up in sweat so cold & full of crisp disdain.
Then stir my passion with love & hate.

I’m sick inside. Never healed. Never known sweet freedom from you.
The cuts you stroke are deep & sore. A mad memento of love so called.
You stole so many things but the empty shell you left behind.

I’ll curl up in my bed tonight. Stretch out a hand and miss you there.
I’ll pretend no fear & hide beside, an empty space where tears were cried in hopeless desire & love inspired.
I’ll watch your face, your silent sleep & breathe.

& The light will fade, the shadows recline.
Darkness consume & the night will pass.
Maybe tomorrow in the fresh morning sun, a new hand will hold me close.

~ this morning’s vivid dream shook my soul. I Awoke to anger & frustration.
© ed simkins

Confusion Illusion

Encamped within the blankets of the midnight sun

I am lost, & scared; confused indeed.

I know little of truth, if truth exists

I speak & the stories I tell are false

Love or hate, desire or power, I cannot ascertain their strength nor value & virtue, legality or even sense?

I speak my mind; delusions play.

A fatal flaw, a door, an entrance to another world I seek.

I stare at life & conquer fear & a lie

I tell you things, I draw these things,

But the fear of the heart persists

& I question you.

Bewitched by lust, controlled by want

My mind facilitates the loan of thought

A fabric made of fables known to women of a certain age

& all who lie

– The human race

Mindless, naked bodies in feminine & incredible disguise, I seek your bliss!

& riches made in notes which burn.

My wallet holds secrets bound

Credit cards unused & lewd ownership of cars.

& the biggest lie?

That I exist

& in this told I find myself chained & fixed & worse controlled

By banks & dreams & Hollywood,

Of governments & gestures shook.

Nor Friends & family I say exist

& sex or intellect, none do persist

& so I dream of sleep & waste my time

& watch the sun arise, as tomorrow flies.

A sad reprise but wonder works.

I ask you – how much freedom do we have?

~ The power of the unknown scares the hell of me.

© ed Simkins

All the Fun of Christmas!

It’s Christmas! – So one of us had to die!

It just so happened that you were the first, that i was the one to try!

It was in the moment that you lied, that you turned to me and the falsehood came out

It was the crazed decision of yours which provoked me to shout

& raise up on high & swipe down with scissors

& leave bloody holes & red spattered fissures.

But hey, my darling, lets look at the facts

– You’re a liar, a cheater, a bitch who attacks!

But I hear what you think, it’s still but ten on Christmas Eve

Maybe I should have just asked you politely to leave.

But seriously my love, when you wind me up with a lie

What else do you expect me to do. except to let fly?

– To stop those remarks, to stop your deciet

To halt you for thrashing me into…absolute defeat.

You see, & I say in my defence, that ‘I love you my darling!’ yet you call me a clown

That all today’s presents and gifts & my thoughts, they just simply let you down!

Now why would you do that? I mean for God’s sake, it’s Christmas day!

Why couldn’t you just shut up & listen to what I had to say!

Just for a moment, just for a change

Allow me to love you without it feeling strange.

But i guess that can’t happen now, it seems I’ve finally called the shots

& an end to to the misery, your lies and your plots!

& I’ll hold you my dear, I’ll hold you til they come!

I’ll tell them everything, I’ll describe what you done.

I’ll tell them of the anguish and everything as above,

& I’ll tell them how you treated me and how you ridiculed my love.

& they’ll agree with me, of that I’m sure, but not that I care,

That your blood on these scissors

on Christmas

was fair!

© Ed Simkins