Words Not told for you.

Allow death to ramble through your mind as she waits for sleep. Bring the poison closer & sink deeply into the pillows of your mind. Kisses exist no longer as the wound she leaves vents & stings.
Dreams end in failed toxic concoctions. Music no longer lifts but soils the white sheets you rest upon. The fun you had has disappeared within the swirling smoke of thought. I hate me.

Tired, tepid, late night lovers hold onto to strangles made in the cacophony of lust. Their sweat merged in pools of love upon the bed beside you. crawl down to the ends of time & bury your face from such torment. I’m sure love will grow again once more, though where & when & for whom I shall not know. Apologise & play the killer song again. Taste it.

Cold capsized my mind tonight. 2:17 and the world of dogs & hidden trees of fate hide themselves in shades of morning earth. I’m calling you because I’m lost. So lost. Can you aid or bathe the wounds with which I find? I’m aching for an escape from the monsters within my mind, for none will leave no matter how far I run..

& the silence is loud. I’m hurting. My eyes burn with revulsion & the mirrors with which I once showed the female race the beauty of their god is now redundant in dust & cracked shards of memory. I’m no longer what I used to be. Child is dead. The body rots. The mind is veiled & the thoughts echo to the bells of ageing pain.

Only the knife in my head remains as my friend. Her crimson tide kisses my skin & pours it’s scorn upon my time. I’m hurting bad, but soon this world will close it’s lips & laugh at me no more. Soon I will need no more remembrance of the deeds of god. Of when I was king & ruled this hallowed land. I whisper goodbye.

& feel my river red ebb. Pulsate & flow.

Tears merge with blood & the night consumes.
Eats me whole.

I’m sorry.

~ now 02:46 & the night is long & endless.
© ed simkins 2015

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Mind of many colours.

Phallic open handed gestures of tame white thoughts
Dreams which bubble from broken mirrors
“cry for freedom!” the young child screams
But her father shocks the neighbours in lauded nights.

See the mice play in terrored homes
Where will the cats play if not outdoors?
“Alcohol, alcohol! Blame it on the alcohol!”
But here I am stained in tea drunk whispers.

See the splashing collapse at the end of sex
Beds of fire bring in youth
Ecstatic expressions line the wall
As she, the daughter of death, perpetuates the lie

& If I could hold on to the golden jewels
Then I would be a rich king too.
Leaks in the fabric of space surround
while the army of lovers jump through cartwheels to draw their friends.

Now illuminated pictures of photo frames
Talk amongst the monks at night or play
& Priests & film noir actresses converge in June
To each now attend a foreign room of sin

My easing time produces mixed up fears
Tor these are the days when drugs are smoked
Do you remember just before the race
When time & kissing were friends engaged?

So leave me now, in days of gore
The blood of virgin skin has broken through her veins
The sheep will mock this tale of love
Though I bow down to kiss her bum.

A night upends & crashes the wall of sleep
Exploding man has settled down, benign
His rein of insidious thoughts & rhyme
Brings forth post moronic lust & sleep.

~ a story of how to crash & burn at 3am
© ed simkins

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

AM 5:04

Failed life.
Death is stalking.
Light of laughter
Dreams are broken

Eyes strain
Burn, yearn
Fallen lies
Confinement made.

Passion builds
An empty joke
My tears strive
Released in flow.

No thoughts but death
A silent night
Of pain engulfs
These ageing hands.

Ripped cuts in skin
Crimson tears they stream
Slow escape from fate
Dreams which break.

Silk kisses please
But memories fade
Bask in beauty born
If life were dreams.

~ too late too sleep
© ed simkins

Passion In Asking

Time to write a thought & send it to the outside world

Pretend I’m listened to, pretend I’m heard.

But inside this little old cave, I’m freezing and I’m dying slow,

Not that anyone cares, not that they even know.

It seems to me that I should stand aside

& hope that darkness takes over, my own landside

One that crumbles my worries & dissipates my fears

But then that has never happened for all these years

You scream at me to tell the world what i really think

& yet i’m that ill, that i sway on death’s brink.

If you were a friend, would you hold me close?

If you were my father, would you top the dose?

& in my dreams, were you a love that I knew so well

Would you be the one to whom my secret I sell?