Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"nima" poems
Nima showed me her aunt's apartment in London. Posh place, up market. She had her own key to get in, and once we entered, she closed the door behind us and leaned against it like one having found the Promised Land. So what do you think? She asked. Lovely place. Does she live here alone? No, she has a daughter; moody ***** has her own crowd, sort of in-lot. We wandered around, room to room and stood at last in the kitchen. Coffee? Tea? She asked. Tea, please, two sugars, little milk, I replied. Take a seat in the lounge, I'll bring it through. I went in the lounge; posh place, a settee of white soft material, chairs brown, aged, but antique and fragile looking. There were paintings on the walls, water colours, rural, country scenes, horses, fox hunts, red coated hunters, hedges, trees. There was a large table, armchairs, lovely carpet, and a lampshade in one corner. Nima came in carrying a tray with two cups in saucers, spoons, sugar bowl, jug of milk. She put it down on a small coffee table by the settee. She sat down next to me and kissed my cheek. At last,she said, just us, alone, no nosey parkers, no nurses or medical quacks to interfere or spoil our fun or lives. I sat gazing around the room. You been here before? Of course, as a child I often came and stayed if my parents were too busy with their careers or away on the matters medical. I smelt her perfume, sensed her thigh touch mine, soft, moving against mine. Why were you sectioned? I asked, looking at her. Drugs and a sudden mental breakdown and attempts on my life by me, she said. I see, I said, studying her closer, each aspect of her features. Forget that, she said, lets drink up our drinks and get to bed and have *** Whose bed? The spare, not Aunt's, she said, smiling. Is it a single or double bed? Double with silk sheets, so watch out you don't slip out of bed while having it away. We drank our drinks quickly, then she showed me the bath and the toilet and the bedroom. What if your aunt returns? She's in Ireland with her moody daughter, won't be back until Monday week, Nima said. First a bath together, then hot ***** *** in bed, she said.
0
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
HOT AND ***** 1967.
Nima showed me her aunt's apartment in London. Posh place, up market. She had her own key to get in, and once we entered, she closed the door behind us and leaned against it like one having found the Promised Land. So what do you think? She asked. Lovely place. Does she live here alone? No, she has a daughter; moody ***** has her own crowd, sort of in-lot. We wandered around, room to room and stood at last in the kitchen. Coffee? Tea? She asked. Tea, please, two sugars, little milk, I replied. Take a seat in the lounge, I'll bring it through. I went in the lounge; posh place, a settee of white soft material, chairs brown, aged, but antique and fragile looking. There were paintings on the walls, water colours, rural, country scenes, horses, fox hunts, red coated hunters, hedges, trees. There was a large table, armchairs, lovely carpet, and a lampshade in one corner. Nima came in carrying a tray with two cups in saucers, spoons, sugar bowl, jug of milk. She put it down on a small coffee table by the settee. She sat down next to me and kissed my cheek. At last,she said, just us, alone, no nosey parkers, no nurses or medical quacks to interfere or spoil our fun or lives. I sat gazing around the room. You been here before? Of course, as a child I often came and stayed if my parents were too busy with their careers or away on the matters medical. I smelt her perfume, sensed her thigh touch mine, soft, moving against mine. Why were you sectioned? I asked, looking at her. Drugs and a sudden mental breakdown and attempts on my life by me, she said. I see, I said, studying her closer, each aspect of her features. Forget that, she said, lets drink up our drinks and get to bed and have *** Whose bed? The spare, not Aunt's, she said, smiling. Is it a single or double bed? Double with silk sheets, so watch out you don't slip out of bed while having it away. We drank our drinks quickly, then she showed me the bath and the toilet and the bedroom. What if your aunt returns? She's in Ireland with her moody daughter, won't be back until Monday week, Nima said. First a bath together, then hot ***** *** in bed, she said.
Continue reading...
87
You're my man, my mighty king, And I'm the jewel in your crown, You're the sun so hot and bright, I'm your light-rays shining down, You're the sky so vast and blue, And I'm the white clouds in your chest, I'm a river clean and pure, Who in your ocean finds her rest, You're the mountain huge and high, I'm the valley green and wide, You're the body firm and strong, And I'm a rib bone on your side, You're an eagle flying high, I'm your feathers light and brown, You're my man, my king of kings, And I'm the jewel in your crown. - Nima Akbari -
0
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
My King Of Kings
I gaze at the dark skies, said Nima, it matches my depression in depth and mood, sitting in the hospital ward in my private room my parents paid for. They come now and then, my mother more, to moan and criticise, to moralise about my life and deeds. I wait for Benedict to come; he brings me cigarettes and chocs, brings me news of the outside world. I have met him in London if the quacks allow me out on a day or weekend pass. We stayed one night at that cheap hotel off Charing Cross Road: the bed was old and creaked each time we made love or moved in nightly passion. I do not think he will come today: he works all week days as a rule; I must contend alone with my mood and mind and dark skies and day to day depression in my own way and fashion.
0
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 2:55 AM UTC
Nima's Days 1967
Nima's mother came to the side ward where her daughter Nima was sitting by a window in her dressing gown looking at the passing trains. You look no better, her mother said. Better than what? Nima said, turning to eye her mother. Than last time, her mother said, walking into the ward, and sitting in a chair by the bed. You look tired. I am tired, always tired, Nima said, looking away from her mother, focusing on a train going by. Her mother sighed. You need to get better, how is the treatment? Ask the quacks they're in charge not me, Nima said, watching a milk float go by on the road across the way. You are a very spoilt child and rude, her mother said. Have you come to upset me or what? Nima said. Have you seen that boy again? May have, Nima said, turning to gaze at her mother. Have you or not? Her mother said in a firmer voice. What is it to you whom I see? Nima said. He could be a drug pusher and you'd be back in dirt hole again, her mother said. He's not a pusher, he has nothing to do with drugs which is why I like him, Nima said, remembering she and Benny in the cheap hotel bed making out at the weekend. Is he our type? Mother said. Our type? I doubt it very much and am glad, Nima said. Her mother sighed and stood up and walked to where her daughter sat and stood over her. If it wasn't for me you'd be in some cheap ward with the others, Mother said coldly. When did you see him last? At the weekend, Nima said, seeing in her mind's eye she and Benny in the bed stark naked, curtains drawn back taking in the view. What did you do? Mother said. Nothing much, sat and talked, Nima said, remembering the landlady coming to the door with tea that Sunday morning and Benny going to the door in just his underwear and she(Nima) smiling at the landlady's stare.
0
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 3:53 AM UTC
WEEKEND AWAY 1967.
Nima's mother came to the side ward where her daughter Nima was sitting by a window in her dressing gown looking at the passing trains. You look no better, her mother said. Better than what? Nima said, turning to eye her mother. Than last time, her mother said, walking into the ward, and sitting in a chair by the bed. You look tired. I am tired, always tired, Nima said, looking away from her mother, focusing on a train going by. Her mother sighed. You need to get better, how is the treatment? Ask the quacks they're in charge not me, Nima said, watching a milk float go by on the road across the way. You are a very spoilt child and rude, her mother said. Have you come to upset me or what? Nima said. Have you seen that boy again? May have, Nima said, turning to gaze at her mother. Have you or not? Her mother said in a firmer voice. What is it to you whom I see? Nima said. He could be a drug pusher and you'd be back in dirt hole again, her mother said. He's not a pusher, he has nothing to do with drugs which is why I like him, Nima said, remembering she and Benny in the cheap hotel bed making out at the weekend. Is he our type? Mother said. Our type? I doubt it very much and am glad, Nima said. Her mother sighed and stood up and walked to where her daughter sat and stood over her. If it wasn't for me you'd be in some cheap ward with the others, Mother said coldly. When did you see him last? At the weekend, Nima said, seeing in her mind's eye she and Benny in the bed stark naked, curtains drawn back taking in the view. What did you do? Mother said. Nothing much, sat and talked, Nima said, remembering the landlady coming to the door with tea that Sunday morning and Benny going to the door in just his underwear and she(Nima) smiling at the landlady's stare.
Continue reading...
106
Nima splashed water from one of the fountains in Trafalgar Square over Baruch. Laughing she did it again, but he side-stepped, like one out of rain, hands wide as if to bless. He'd met her a few moments before; by Nelson's Column, she’d written from her hospital bed, drug taking recovering (so said), cold turkey or whatever she'd scribed. Finishing the ablutions, she walked on, he followed, stepping beside her, catching her in profile, taking in her cropped hair, brown, washed and washed. She talked of the nursing staff, who talked of her behind her back, some at least, she added, chat of the *** cupboard we used, that time you came, she said, laughing, walking out of the Square, along by the gallery, her voice too loud, he thought, but sounded out by the traffic passing. She was clothed in a blue dress, too short, he thought, seeing her thighs, sans stockings or tights, sandaled feet. They went into Leicester Square, she talking of one of the quacks she'd seen, head case, foreign, fancies himself, she added. Baruch, spied the billboards, new films, merchandise, drinks, cigarettes, lowering his eyes, watching her sway her hips and **** hands swinging, gesturing.  She stopped by a bench and sat down, he did likewise, ears catching her words, holding them in his mind, something about them being jealous of my sexuality she added, giving Baruch the eye, maybe thinking me a ***** a druggie slapper, she said laughing, her hand rubbing against the top of his, he sensing skin on skin, remembering, the quickie in the side room, cupboard size, just off the ward. He talked of his boring job, the mind numbing labours, the Coltrane jazz LP, played on and on, he said, eyes closed. She lay her head on his shoulder, he felt, smelt the combination of expensive scent and hospital smell (soaps or disinfectants), felt her fingers rubbing his. She took out a cigarette, offered him one, he took and she lit up with red plastic lighter. Inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, silence, her hand wrestled with his, watching smoke rise, upwards, twirling, in the hot summer spread skies.
0
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 2:04 AM UTC
MEETING WITH NIMA.
Nima splashed water from one of the fountains in Trafalgar Square over Baruch. Laughing she did it again, but he side-stepped, like one out of rain, hands wide as if to bless. He'd met her a few moments before; by Nelson's Column, she’d written from her hospital bed, drug taking recovering (so said), cold turkey or whatever she'd scribed. Finishing the ablutions, she walked on, he followed, stepping beside her, catching her in profile, taking in her cropped hair, brown, washed and washed. She talked of the nursing staff, who talked of her behind her back, some at least, she added, chat of the *** cupboard we used, that time you came, she said, laughing, walking out of the Square, along by the gallery, her voice too loud, he thought, but sounded out by the traffic passing. She was clothed in a blue dress, too short, he thought, seeing her thighs, sans stockings or tights, sandaled feet. They went into Leicester Square, she talking of one of the quacks she'd seen, head case, foreign, fancies himself, she added. Baruch, spied the billboards, new films, merchandise, drinks, cigarettes, lowering his eyes, watching her sway her hips and **** hands swinging, gesturing.  She stopped by a bench and sat down, he did likewise, ears catching her words, holding them in his mind, something about them being jealous of my sexuality she added, giving Baruch the eye, maybe thinking me a ***** a druggie slapper, she said laughing, her hand rubbing against the top of his, he sensing skin on skin, remembering, the quickie in the side room, cupboard size, just off the ward. He talked of his boring job, the mind numbing labours, the Coltrane jazz LP, played on and on, he said, eyes closed. She lay her head on his shoulder, he felt, smelt the combination of expensive scent and hospital smell (soaps or disinfectants), felt her fingers rubbing his. She took out a cigarette, offered him one, he took and she lit up with red plastic lighter. Inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, silence, her hand wrestled with his, watching smoke rise, upwards, twirling, in the hot summer spread skies.
Continue reading...
56
I would have loved to have had *** with Kafka Nima said something about him the photo of him I sat opposite her in the café in Charing Cross Road she had a coke I sipped coffee I feel the same about Marilyn Monroe I said love to have got her in bed Nima looked at me disdainfully you would she said not necessarily for *** I said just to listen to her voice sense her being there the scent of her Nima shook her head ok I’d listen to Kafka and sense his being there but ******** his **** off at the same time she said an old guy on the other side of the café gave her a look have you read any of his books? I asked some she said the one where he turns into a big beetle actually it doesn't say beetle in the book it says gigantic vermin which people has interpreted as a beetle or bug I said she sipped her coke it's his body I want to go to bed with not his book she said he's dead I said died in 1924 shame she said he doesn’t know what he's missed out on I guess he did I said she smiled have to be satisfied with his books then won't I we drained our drinks and went on our way I went to Dobell's Jazz Record shop and bought a Coltrane LP then we walked to the train station where she got a train to the hospital where she was being treated for her drug addiction I went home to play my Coltrane on my record player via another train thinking of her and Kafka and me and Monroe having *** in that cheap hotel off Trafalgar Square where Nima and I once had *** there.
0
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
WHAT KAFKA MISSED.
Each finds their own salvation or not, Nima said. Birds fed in her hair. Her eyes ****** in black holes, gave birth to dreams. I sat beside her, drank black coffee, smoked menthol cigarettes, heard Coltrane on the HiFi. How deep does my soul go? She asked, what is *** after all? I inhaled and looked at the cavern of her small firm ******* Cold turkey, she said, rather have a cool fix. I sat exhaling menthol smoke; the Coltrane runs on saxophone caught in my ears. I think I’ve spiders in my ****** she said; big black ones with hairy legs. I closed my eyes supping on the menthol smoke, sensing Coltrane's sound invade my soul. Nima lay back down, legs spread, black beetles and insects inside her drained out head.
0
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
EACH FINDS.
Nima said the art gallery stank and all those middle class types (she being one herself what with her education and upbringing and all) and the usual bourgeoisie stuff on the walls and she huffed and puffed and so Naaman took her to Leicester Square to some bar he knew and got her a drink and lit her a cigarette and she said she needed a fix got the hunger for it but they’d know at the hospital when she got back and there would be hell to pay and the parents would blow their top them being doctors and all and so what they’d say to her she couldn’t repeat so she just drank her drink and smoked her smoke and Naaman said he quite liked the art in the gallery especially the modern stuff and the Yank guy wasn’t really trying to chat her up he just wanted to draw her attention to the riches of our monarchy oh sure he was she said he was after getting into my pants and she got all verbal against men and Yanks and the **** war in Vietnam and Naaman just sat and listened to her jabbering her eyes lit up like lights in a harbour her small **** moving as she gestured her tight jeans (red cords) hugging her thighs (a feast to his eyes) her fingers holding the cigarette the pink nails the unbitten nails the slim hands then she stopped and drained her glass and said she had to go **** and so he watched her go wiggling her hips her fine tight *** and he thought of that time in the hospital at the last visit when he and she snuck into that small room where they kept brooms and such and had a quick **** she in her nightgown (pulled up) and he half listening out for sounds hoping a domestic didn’t come and want a broom or brush and when she came back he went off with her through the Square and along Charing Cross Road she talking of the state of the toilet back there the things some women do the messy ******* and on she went again her voice jabbering away and he knew she needed her fix needed it bad so he got a tube train to Victoria Station and on to the hospital where she was kept the nurse being quite concerned at her state and took her away and she waved (Nima not the nurse) and blew him a kiss from her palm and he blew one back knowing it wouldn’t reach her lips or *** but would do her no harm.
0
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
DO HER NO HARM.
Nima said the art gallery stank and all those middle class types (she being one herself what with her education and upbringing and all) and the usual bourgeoisie stuff on the walls and she huffed and puffed and so Naaman took her to Leicester Square to some bar he knew and got her a drink and lit her a cigarette and she said she needed a fix got the hunger for it but they’d know at the hospital when she got back and there would be hell to pay and the parents would blow their top them being doctors and all and so what they’d say to her she couldn’t repeat so she just drank her drink and smoked her smoke and Naaman said he quite liked the art in the gallery especially the modern stuff and the Yank guy wasn’t really trying to chat her up he just wanted to draw her attention to the riches of our monarchy oh sure he was she said he was after getting into my pants and she got all verbal against men and Yanks and the **** war in Vietnam and Naaman just sat and listened to her jabbering her eyes lit up like lights in a harbour her small **** moving as she gestured her tight jeans (red cords) hugging her thighs (a feast to his eyes) her fingers holding the cigarette the pink nails the unbitten nails the slim hands then she stopped and drained her glass and said she had to go **** and so he watched her go wiggling her hips her fine tight *** and he thought of that time in the hospital at the last visit when he and she snuck into that small room where they kept brooms and such and had a quick **** she in her nightgown (pulled up) and he half listening out for sounds hoping a domestic didn’t come and want a broom or brush and when she came back he went off with her through the Square and along Charing Cross Road she talking of the state of the toilet back there the things some women do the messy ******* and on she went again her voice jabbering away and he knew she needed her fix needed it bad so he got a tube train to Victoria Station and on to the hospital where she was kept the nurse being quite concerned at her state and took her away and she waved (Nima not the nurse) and blew him a kiss from her palm and he blew one back knowing it wouldn’t reach her lips or *** but would do her no harm.
Continue reading...
122
Nima waits by the Embankment of the Thames she has a few hours freedom a few hours to do as she pleases (within reason) the doctors said OK but no needle pushing no pill popping and so she agreed and was on her way although the ward sister wasn't pleased she didn't like her wordiness her being too up front for lying on her bed at night ********* her **** thinking of Naaman but she went anyway took the train and sits waiting having put on the all too tight dress (her father's words on his rare visits) and the tight top with yellow birds and she watches the water flowing the boats and barges and the occasional row boat going by and then he's there having come out the tube station concerned looking his hair dark and groomed the jeans and open necked shirt been waiting long? he asks yes been almost picked up twice as a ***** she says told them go **** themselves he looks at her and beyond the river's dullness buses passing by cars motorcycles lorries the city alive sorry about that he says train delays she smiles no matter you're here now how long have you got? he asks a few hours of grace she says the doctors were good said I could come although the ward sister the ***** almost put her oar in but here I am all yours well for a while at least so where are we going? how about a coffee in the park and a lay down on the grass to chat and smooch and relax no art or cinema or record shops or window shopping he says or *** she says no place unless you want to want to have ago in the bushes or maybe be daring and have it away on  a park bench? she smiles no coffee and a chat will do he says besides I don't perform well in public and so they walk up the road and cross by Trafalgar Square and on down and into the park she talking about dying for a fix and other things and he talking about his boring job the sitting and drilling holes into metal or the pressing of two sides of metal together and how he'd heard the new Beatles' LP something about a Doctor Pepper they buy two coffees and talk on she gazing at his hair the eyes staring at her his mouth opening and closing bringing her words his fingers touching hers his having dark hairs along the fingers hers none white thin good for ********* and he studying her eyes seeing himself there in that darkness in that faraway place far from God's kingdom but near(he thinks) to His grace.
0
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
NEAR TO HIS GRACE.
Nima waits by the Embankment of the Thames she has a few hours freedom a few hours to do as she pleases (within reason) the doctors said OK but no needle pushing no pill popping and so she agreed and was on her way although the ward sister wasn't pleased she didn't like her wordiness her being too up front for lying on her bed at night ********* her **** thinking of Naaman but she went anyway took the train and sits waiting having put on the all too tight dress (her father's words on his rare visits) and the tight top with yellow birds and she watches the water flowing the boats and barges and the occasional row boat going by and then he's there having come out the tube station concerned looking his hair dark and groomed the jeans and open necked shirt been waiting long? he asks yes been almost picked up twice as a ***** she says told them go **** themselves he looks at her and beyond the river's dullness buses passing by cars motorcycles lorries the city alive sorry about that he says train delays she smiles no matter you're here now how long have you got? he asks a few hours of grace she says the doctors were good said I could come although the ward sister the ***** almost put her oar in but here I am all yours well for a while at least so where are we going? how about a coffee in the park and a lay down on the grass to chat and smooch and relax no art or cinema or record shops or window shopping he says or *** she says no place unless you want to want to have ago in the bushes or maybe be daring and have it away on  a park bench? she smiles no coffee and a chat will do he says besides I don't perform well in public and so they walk up the road and cross by Trafalgar Square and on down and into the park she talking about dying for a fix and other things and he talking about his boring job the sitting and drilling holes into metal or the pressing of two sides of metal together and how he'd heard the new Beatles' LP something about a Doctor Pepper they buy two coffees and talk on she gazing at his hair the eyes staring at her his mouth opening and closing bringing her words his fingers touching hers his having dark hairs along the fingers hers none white thin good for ********* and he studying her eyes seeing himself there in that darkness in that faraway place far from God's kingdom but near(he thinks) to His grace.
Continue reading...
152
Nima said she was ****** off and wanted out of the hospital. I was visiting her outside on the lawn. She was in her nightgown getting some sun. What's up? I said. Everything from the quacks to the food to the **** ants creeping along the floor by my bed she said. Aren't you allowed out into town or up to London? I said. **** them Benny she said just because my mother put a bad word in they don't trust me out in case I go get a fix. A nurse passed by out on to the lawn to attend to a guy who was doing something with his ***** No no Henry not out here she said. Nima shook her head see what I mean I'm a druggie these people are mentally ill why am I with them? The guy was taken back into the ward by the nurse. I looked at Nima I wouldn't get you drugs I could tell them that I said. No use Benny they won't listen. She lit up a cigarette from the pack I brought her and I lit it and lit one for me. A radio played from the open window of the ward a Beatle song. We sat and smoked and talked more. Henry stood flashing by the open ward door.
0
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:07 PM UTC
VISITING NIMA 1967
Your mother had brought the car to the hospital you were going home at last. Benny had rung yesterday and you arranged to meet him on Saturday in Trafalgar Square. The mind doctor had been to see you and you were packed. You said goodbye to the nurses who had been like a family to you while you had been in the hospital. Now it was over all you had to do now was stay off the drugs not get in touch with anyone who had got you into it. Your mother fussed about then went off to talk to the quacks. You wished Benny was there it seemed strange going after the time stuck in here except for weekends out. You stood by the window and looked out on the hospital grounds. You'd sat out there with Benny a few times now you were about to go. Your mother came back stiff faced her eyes on you don't end up here again Nima stay off the drugs next time it won't be just hospital it will be in jail. It seemed odd your mother saying that word like someone had invented a barking bird.
0
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 4:15 AM UTC
NIMA LEAVES HOSPITAL 1967.
After a weekend away at her aunt's place Nima was back in hospital as her release had run out the nurse said how was your weekend? boring as hell Nima said shame the nurse said but at least you were away from here but you didn't do any drugs did you? of course not Nima said unless *** is a drug in which case I had an overdose you never did the nurse said smiling who with? that's for me to know and you to dream about Nima said the nurse went off and left Nima by her bed to change into her nightdress and go sit in the lounge with other woman and girls until bedtime she undressed and put on her nightdress and thought of Benny and wished he was there by her bed and had watched her undress but he wasn't he was at home and she was there with the others and nurses and cocoa to drink and biscuits to eat and lights out by a certain time and no one to have *** with no drugs to have nothing except the dull dark night and pangs for this and that and other urges and desires flaring up like blazing fires.
0
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 2:23 AM UTC
LIKE BLAZING FIRES 1967.
At 2am in the morning, Nima woke in her hospital bed, looked about her, wondered what Benny was doing, wished he was there, thought about the weekend away at her aunt's place, how the *** was good in her cousin's bed, Benny sleeping with her, now here she was in some hospital bed with others sleeping, snoring and moaning in their sleep, the night nurse wandering about like some Florence Nightingale, but at the moment, Nima thought, even she seems **** enough to keep my urges at bay o what a night to be without Benny o what utter night-time blues, she gazed at the moonlight slice of light through where the curtains joined, sighed and wanted Benny so much this time yesterday we were well away, now I'm all alone with snores and sniffs and some old girl's moan.
0
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 2:49 AM UTC
2AM WAKE 1967
Nima waits in her bed on the ward it's twilight and she feels a great urge for some *** but Benny is at home at his place and others on the ward are sleeping all women some are old few are young even the young night nurse in her small cramped office off the ward seldom comes to visit at that hour she tries to picture in her dazed mind Benny there beside her kissing her holding her his fingers exploring her body his wet lips on her neck on her ******* on the dip of her ***** on her ***** but he's not there at all just her lips wet kissing where she can O Benny come to me be my man.
0
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
NIMA WAITS 1967.
Nima looked bored as we walked the art gallery she was only allowed out of the hospital for a few hours promising no drug fixes or ***** can't we go elsewhere? she asked bored here I felt her boredom it seeped into my bones let's go for a coffee I said so we went for a coffee in a coffee bar across the road and had a smoke you were late she said I only have a few hours out of that mad house sorry I popped into the jazz record shop and left me waiting in Trafalgar Square she said what did you buy? nothing yet I said I'll go back later saw a Coltrane LP I liked I said ***** that jazz stuff she said we drained our coffees and walked back to the train station and I saw her on her train and kissed her at the window and the train went off and I watched until she was out of sight then back tracked to the jazz record shop to buy the Coltrane LP thinking of Nima and the time we had a *** in that cheap hotel by Charing Cross and the bed creaking and the odd hot and cold water taps and she and I laying there I walked back to the gallery for a last look around thinking of the Coltrane and the Coltrane sound.
0
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
A QUICK DATE.
Nima stares at the ward. Nima wants to cause a scene. She wants to raise hell. The few nurses on duty are not busy. They're stuck in an office yakking. If she'd been sick in the body and not in the head or wasn't a druggie they'd be all over her like sick of a baby. Since she's backslided and got a hit from some idiot she's on watch now and not allowed out except in the grounds. She ***** on a cigarette and inhales on it. Watches the laughing nurses in the office. If she was able she'd lock the ******** in. She walks along the small area of grass outside peering in. She's no one to talk to. The other patients **** her off. Talk nonsense. She's one of the few druggies on the ward the others are mental cases. Jewel's ok. She's a manic depressive. Gives her cigarettes. Talks to her in a deepness she can almost drown in. On a bad day Jewel'll not talk at all but sit staring at a wall or lay in bed with a blanket over her head. Jewel talks of ECTs. She sees them take her off sometimes and then she's gone sometime and comes back dreary eyed and moody. Nima wants a hit or *** or something to break the monotony. Benedict said he'd come. She waits for him. She watches for him at visitors time. The few visitors that come could fill a telephone box. She wants him to come. Wants him. They had a quickie once in a small room off the side corridor. Uncomfortable but good. She peers in the ward. A few visitors arrive and stroll in and some bring flowers or chocs or nothing. Benedict arrives and sees her outside and comes out to her. Wasn't sure if you'd come she says. Said I would he says. He hands her a packet of cigarettes and a Mars bar. She stuffs them in the pocket of her dressing gown. They talk. Walk on and around the small area. The nurses watch them. She knows they're being watched. It makes her feel wanted in an odd way. She kisses him. They kiss. Her hand around his waist her the other hand holding a cigarette. He hugs her close one hand touching her behind. They kiss again. Clouds darken. Sky fills. Looks miserable. Looks like rain.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
LOOKS MISERABLE.
Nima stares at the ward. Nima wants to cause a scene. She wants to raise hell. The few nurses on duty are not busy. They're stuck in an office yakking. If she'd been sick in the body and not in the head or wasn't a druggie they'd be all over her like sick of a baby. Since she's backslided and got a hit from some idiot she's on watch now and not allowed out except in the grounds. She ***** on a cigarette and inhales on it. Watches the laughing nurses in the office. If she was able she'd lock the ******** in. She walks along the small area of grass outside peering in. She's no one to talk to. The other patients **** her off. Talk nonsense. She's one of the few druggies on the ward the others are mental cases. Jewel's ok. She's a manic depressive. Gives her cigarettes. Talks to her in a deepness she can almost drown in. On a bad day Jewel'll not talk at all but sit staring at a wall or lay in bed with a blanket over her head. Jewel talks of ECTs. She sees them take her off sometimes and then she's gone sometime and comes back dreary eyed and moody. Nima wants a hit or *** or something to break the monotony. Benedict said he'd come. She waits for him. She watches for him at visitors time. The few visitors that come could fill a telephone box. She wants him to come. Wants him. They had a quickie once in a small room off the side corridor. Uncomfortable but good. She peers in the ward. A few visitors arrive and stroll in and some bring flowers or chocs or nothing. Benedict arrives and sees her outside and comes out to her. Wasn't sure if you'd come she says. Said I would he says. He hands her a packet of cigarettes and a Mars bar. She stuffs them in the pocket of her dressing gown. They talk. Walk on and around the small area. The nurses watch them. She knows they're being watched. It makes her feel wanted in an odd way. She kisses him. They kiss. Her hand around his waist her the other hand holding a cigarette. He hugs her close one hand touching her behind. They kiss again. Clouds darken. Sky fills. Looks miserable. Looks like rain.
Continue reading...
108
I had rung Nima in the week at the hospital (the nurse wasn't happy about it but she brought Nima to the phone) she said she'd meet me in London by the Embankment station so on the Saturday I went to the station and waited for her people passed me on their way up West or back into the tube station going elsewhere then I saw her coming out from the underground she smiled when she saw me and hugged me and we kissed glad to see you she said the quacks weren't going let me out but they did eventually why wasn't they going to let you out? I said my mother had said I was not to go out but as I am over 18 they said she had no rights over me so they reluctantly let me go but I have to be back by dusk that's ok I said where do you want to go? I need a drink she said so we walked up the road and found a bar on Charing Cross Road we sat in a corner with our drinks and we lit up cigarettes I should be leaving the hospital soon she said if I stay off drugs and stay with my parents so should be able to see you easier at weekends that'd be good I said at your parent's place? no way there they'd interrogate you like the Gestapo Nima said we'll meet in London some place ok I said we talked on but I was just glad to watch her bright eyes and happy face.
0
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 3:52 AM UTC
MEETING AT THE EMBANKMENT 1967.
We can go there again? I said yes Nima said my aunt won't be back for months and my cousin is away at university so we went to her aunt's place as before and Nima could hardly wait for us to undress before she was on her cousin's bed and we were away o so long without she said and the nurses at the hospital have no idea how much of a cure this *** is and afterwards we lay there on her cousin's bed smoking and she said I have always been jealous of my cousin and her fine collection of dolls and that lovely doll's house she had but now it means **** all funny how childhood things seem so important at the time Nima said I turned and gazed at her her fine body the small ******* which I had recently mouthed the dimple in her belly where I kissed lips and it was still wet o I think she's a ****** queen my cousin can't imagine her allowing any guy to enter between her plump thighs Nima said smiling how long have you got release from the hospital? I said weekend then back Monday morning or else the fuzz will be looking for me after all I'm sectioned what with my state of mind and the drugs I smelt her and wanted to drink her into my very being we finished our smokes and began again in a different position well it was after all her decision.
0
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
NIMA'S DECISION 1967
Nima holds in her palm the capsules the doctor prescribed her from a glass she slowly sips water meant to help my drug addiction she tells me and does it? I ask her does it what? does it help? wouldn't know guess it does she shows me her pink palm capsules gone when can you go back home? when I’m cured or when they think I am she mutters we sit on seats outside the mental hospital want a smoke? she asks me I’ve my own smoke your own I tell her she lights up then lights mine there's two things that I want she tells me have a fix and have *** what order? have a fix then have *** uncrossing her slim legs she moves up her short skirt showing thighs do you like? artistic Renoir like I reply she inhales a lungful of grey smoke then exhales in the air and gives me a smile and ****** stare.
0
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
****** STARE.
She's smoking looking out at the grounds of the old hospital she's sitting on a bench green with age it's summer and she wears the short dress with birds on I see her sitting there her legs crossed one white foot dangling hi Nima I call out she turns round exhales grey smoke so you've come after all didn't think you'd turn up after we had that big row (in London all about not getting a hotel room for the night) how are you? I ask her I sit down on the bench next to her I'm ****** off she replies stuck in here with mentals suicides drug cases just like me with no drugs not my sort no freedom no alcohol and no *** I light up a cigar and inhale a nurse passes blue and white uniform black stockings and black shoes I study her neat *** she's the best they've got here Nima says a bright gem amongst dross I suppose you'd like her on my bed I know I do some nights just looking I reply nothing more I recall that ***** Saturday in that cheap hotel room in London a few weeks back in time having *** so often in the night I felt like Sisyphus pushing it and then down book early next weekend I get out Nima says I'm *** starved ***** Cat needs her milk I concur and say so studying her crossed legs smooth as silk.
0
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
SMOOTH AS SILK 1967.
I got us a room, I said to Nima, this weekend. She looked at me, then at a passing nurse, a neat arsed girl who caught my eyes. So where is it? Nima said. In town here, not too far, I said. Was it difficult? She said, they're a bit staid here. No problem, I said. Nima nodded her head and crossed one of her legs over the other sitting in a hospital chair, outside in the grounds, and I caught sight of lovely thighs. Got any smokes? She asked. Sure, I said, and got out a packet of cigarettes, and gave them to her, after taking one myself, you keep them, I can buy some more, I said. We lit up and sat there in silence for a few moments. I prefer London, she said, for a cheap hotel and life, but we haven't got time to waste travelling; I need *** and can't wait for Saturday to come, but I'll have to. I studied her: seen your mother since last time? I said. No, not since she found out about me having *** with someone at my aunt's place, Nima said. Shame, I said, it was a nice place. Nice bed too, Nima said, wonder what my cousin'll think if she finds out I ****** you in it. A nurse came to the table and looked at Nima: the doctor is here to talk with you, the nurse said. Now? Nima said. Yes now, the nurse said. All right, look Benny, you best go, I don't know how long I'll be with the quack. Ok see you Saturday, I said. Nima walked off with the nurse: the nurse with a neat **** and I watched them go and quickly pass.
0
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
NIMA AND A BOOKED ROOM 1967
When I was eleven, my name was Sadie. When I was eleven I lived on the streets. I was unloved. I was unwanted. I was unseen. I was unheard. I had not a single person in the world who cared for me. I no reason to live my life. I had nothing to fight for. I was alone. When I was eleven I made a choice that changed my life forever. When I was eleven I made a choice that set me on the path to adventures beyond my wildest dreams and heartache of my worst nightmares. My new name is A’ratos I’nima, or Brave Heart. My home is the spaceship T’arm, or Haven. My species is human. My family is made up of alien bounty hunters and merchants. I am loved. I am wanted. I am seen. I am heard. I have an entire starship of aliens who care for me. I have a mate who loves me. I have a child who adores me. I have two reasons to live my life. I have a war to fight with my star born family. I will never be alone ever again. I was Sadie, a street kid with no future. I am A’ratos I’nima, a Space Merchant with a wife and daughter. I am Courage, a fledgling warrior in an old rebellion. This is my story, dare you read it?
0
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
Prolog for Love of a Lifetime
Nima's aunt's spare bed was firm and old and after we had made love twice we lay back on the bed and lit up cigarettes this is my moody cousin's room I think Nima said wonder what she'd think if she knew I'd been ravished here? not please I guess I said she'll know I've slept here but not that I've had *** in her big bed Nima said I looked around the room there were a few paintings on the walls a big mirror on one wall opposite the bed a dressing table by the window well Benny what do you think? about what? I said the bed? the *** the foreplay? she said all good I said (the foreplay had been her idea and it kind of stretched things out a bit) twice over too she said watching smoke rise upward what would your aunt say if she found out I'd been here? I said not pleased she's a bit of a moralist Nima said (as if being a moralist was a kind illness with little hope) but I can picture my moody cousin's face had she come in as we were well away Nima said smiling in fact I imagined it the second time we shagged imagined her by the door with a face as white as snow and her eyes as large as an owls she laughed I imagined nothing just went with the flow sensing myself in a bright sun's glow.
0
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 11:23 AM UTC
A BRIGHT SUN'S GLOW 1967.
Can't go to my aunt's place again, Benny, Nima said to me as we sat out on the grass in the hospital grounds. Why is that? I said. My mother's found out we go there and she will be watching the place now, and it will be too risky, Nima said. How'd she find out we were going there? I asked. She managed to get me to say, but I think she knew anyway, Nima said, looking over towards the trees. Does she know about me? Not who you are, but she knows I'm seeing someone, and having *** with them, Nima said. So what now? I said. Have to book a cheap hotel for the weekend again, she said. Where abouts? I said. She looked at me seriously, I don't know, not too far way or we will waste time traveling as I only have a weekend pass. I'll find us some place near, I said. We lit up cigarettes, and sat smoking. She was in a green top and jeans, and her hair was neat, but she had nothing on her small feet.
0
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 2:30 AM UTC
NOTHING ON HER FEET 1967.