Quiet.

A stillness born of death pervades my room.
I’m sat here.
Silent.

I’m tired.
Weary.
Mind screaming war-worn tales of

Confusion.

Thoughts which dangle around the cord around my neck.
To pull or jump.
To hide or fall.

Shadows mock the sights portrayed.
Notions of success & lover’s loved.
That I was king but now a tramp.

I breathe & mind stumbles towards an exit known.
In death can dreams become a golden shrine.
& the earth will give me gentle rest.

I seek escape.

~ a late night film & broken thoughts
© ed simkins 2015

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My Cemetery Walk

Wasted days or relaxing thoughts?
Screams of passion lead to naught
Taken far and slapped on face
Darkness over cemetery finds empty space
Grave held low & roses grow
Shaping shadows on those I know
Moments play & sounds escape
Crossing fields as hidden snake
Blood flows thin on stolen win
Whilst cold hand rests on old man’s chin
Take the time & let it roll
Time I say for midnight stroll
See the dead & hear them sing
Watch the movement of silent wing
Bird of prey and harvest moon
Frozen winds and coated tune
November rain or evening mist
Loveless lives & forgotten kiss
The pathway leads across the field
My body broken begins to yield
I’m sure soon that death will force
My mind to stop and then in course
Weep once more and shake in pain
As I remember hand in hand in lover’s lane
Beside her grave I lay down and weep
And feel my heart pulled down deep
To mix with dreams that I once knew
And mix with her and seep on through
In pain, in death, our lives will merge
And maybe then I’ll feel such surge
That stand and jump are actions made
By old man broken, who lies afraid
Perhaps one day in secret lips
A drink of life will soon be sipped
& dreams and hope and smiles be found
By passioned excitement in arms abound.

~ silly dreams within my mind as I walk through the cemetery
© ed simkins

Darkness Calls.

Can you feel the blood trickle forth?
Tempting fate with kisses of sad recline.

Death breathes, slow release & cries.
A line of existence draws close upon her eyes.

Those which sought have died & the light it fades
Failing from the misery told in youth, a dream expires.

The soil falls in broken clumps
Heart sinks with the patter of the rose petals thrown.

I feel the cold.

A final push towards the sanity of man refused
Time repents & runs away.

Beware the dust of thought which closes in upon your naked skin
The worms will feed well this night through itching hate.

I see her glare, her moist white lips
As her decaying dreams scream my name

The silence moans, bearing forth fruit of frozen lust
Princess cried in blood red mist.

I hold her naked flame & tremble at the cost.

~ On thinking about death.
© ed simkins

Tripping on illusions

I’m not sure.
It’s all bizarre.
Maybe I’m dead.
Or lost.

The sun’s out.
The clouds are rolling.
Things just seem strange.
Not quite what I expected.

Last night I was at her door
I was smoking the air
I was straining to pretend she stood there
Smiling in her fluffy blue dressing gown.

I laid down my roses
Wished that she’d see them
Wished that she knew I’d been there
Wished that she’d call me

But death is a strange friend
One who just whispers
Reminds you of truth
Shows you the futility of dreams.

So I kissed you on your forehead
The way I always used to do before
I stroked your nose & saw you smile
I never knew love could feel so good

& then a shadow you became
& i’m back here in my garden
My mind is tripping with illusions
A late night expedition to the old house of love

My dreams are that something new would occur
Something amazing would grip me by my heart
That she or you would come & hold my hand
That the dreams would come to fruition.

I’d like to experience something like that again
Something pulsing like fresh blood through my veins
I’d like this summer sun to witness romance
& paint the flowers which I see in shades of love.

So I’m not sure you see
Not sure what this day is I hold in my thoughts
& I’m tripping on illusions
& I’m wishing in the garden.

~ You know that I love her, but I want to experience this life.
© ed simkins

Echoes Ache

I shake.
A pathetic little man from outer space.
Gridlocked tears pause broken behind my eyes.
I’m drowning.
They need escape.
Recall the thoughts that brought you there & fall.
Collapse.
Cry.

Two reasons why.
Monuments of old illuminate the room in which I sleep. Torture to the end.
The blue-grey top you wore so often. A photographic bombsite that played with love.
Which stripped itself on so many occasions. Each written in a booklet of the past.
But died.
With pain & hate & broken down communication.
& ended in abject failure.

& the taste of you.
Your dolled up face.
You childish ways which glued my attention as the years rolled by.
As the kisses flowed.
& smiles fought with such happy lips.
I loved you.
& then the glue was gone
& the lies were born.
Pages ripped in the book of delight.

I was two hours too late.

& you were gone.

A jumper left, crying over the red leather chair on which we played.
& the pink glitter lipstick which made you taste so fun
Alone & lost upon the mantelpiece of my fire.

The house is empty now.
But I see you everywhere.

~ haunted by thoughts & visions & dreams.
© ed simkins

Between Work & Play

cold dark days & headaches form,

brilliant lights explode in mind.

I’m off to war in but a moment,

where dogs and cats will be left behind.

dreams will run or skip and make me smile,

though shadows form in veiled mask!

repetitions blown from the four winds of time,

i sit here frozen, though happy, relaxed.

i could tell you a story of the famous girl,

but i know that tonight you may not care.

My vice is my own and the thoughts are known.

so i’ll just pop upstairs and change for war.

old man clothes, blazer, shirt,

black tie and watch, his pockets clean.

these garbs i’ll drop and out i go,

escape the ritual of a Friday sleep.

all in order to impress the world,

or perhaps i’d say, to make me feel

a slight sense of some human worth,

or if all goes well, the world will smile

& the day will be won, alongside the battle.

for the library’s clean, the kids sent home,

weekend is free and the dreams begin.

who knows what fantasies will blow this mind,

& tease our eyes with skin and heat!

Good night, good night, farewell & night!

~ Friday night & I’m shattered, but free!

(c) Ed Simkins

God & I Beside the Sea

Blue day talks and asks of ship & beckons man to enter it.

to set afloat and sail the seas and take a challenge from defeat

but as boat sails and storms occur, the old man whispers, with God confers,

“What do i do? How do i survive? How the hell do i escape this hardship alive?”

& God replied and laughed and thought, considered this & then he taught

“Life’s storms are many, each day you’ll die, but life’s adventure is the reason why

you’ll find yourself in oceans blue, freezing, crying & quite scared too.”

Man looked up from shoreline rocks and shivered twice, as coldness knocked

“God, you gave me peace, you gave me land, throughout today you lent a hand,

so why when fear engulfed me whole, did you destroy my strength and soul?

You made me break, my ship collapsed, i cried out in horror & pained relapse.

Why send me back to hated times, that i repose in horrid rhymes?

Dear God, your ocean waves crashed down & wrecked my face in frightened frowns

Why I ask? Why despise? What purpose broken with blackened skies?”

“You see,” said God, who sat beside, “the reason that i made you cry

was just to check your progress made, to see you fight outside your cave,

to see that you have grown somewhat, & that sea or Black Dog leads you not

into fatal flight or hidden fright, and make you know that of tonight

a new year starts and adventures begin, that you will suffer, but that you will win

I’ll throw wolves and cliffs and biting kids, just to make you know that you should live

a life unknown, but not of fear, that you should enjoy the darkness

& the clear.”

(c) Ed Simkins