Tag Archives: late night

Hope Gone, Words Lost


Blood is said to be thicker than water
But not in this instant
Not in this moment of dark shadows
In this moment each fallen tear marks stains
Stains deeper than blood from crimson red fingers pen stabbed sore
Words however small would not come
Thoughts however hazy will not form
Family and blood ties offer no motivation
Words would not come
A most unusual muse offers no comfort…
Vodka and tonic are like water in the shadow of two nights
Fingers shake and cry blood
Shot glasses stack high in cigarette butt
Eyes red with unshed tears as the first cock crows
Clarity unfound in the last drop…


How I Feel


I like how I feel on chilly nights like this
When I crawl up in bed
Next to your warmth

Late Sunday Night

I walk hand in hand with you
Through the garden of fresh desire
Love blooming like red rose petals usher in spring
The sweet fragrance of our (late) night air

Droplets of silver rain gently trickle down
Your soft palms melt into mine
The thirst of a fortnight quenched 
In one passionate smooch

During The Night

Traces of you & our mid-afternoon antics flush color to my pale cheeks
Blushing red in contained excitement I smile wide and loud
As I remember us and those things we did

Late Night Dance

Dancing blissfully
In the gleaming moon
She embraces the night’s chills
Warmth slowly filling her lungs
As night creatures whisper soothing sounds

Last Call- Guest Blog


As I stare at the sun through these frames, I thank God for life, then return to one of my many disgusting habits.

I pat myself down, pull a packet out. Take a stick from it, tap it down and light it. Nicotine rush, I feel my brain get ignited. A little woozy, blink and the rush is gone, I take a couple more drags.

Inhale! Exhale! Ash it out! Stare at it burn, as I think to myself, something else might be the death of me. I am deceiving myself , I know I am lying to myself, pretending that I don’t know what these sticks do to me.

Yet I will not quit, not that I can’t. I just refuse to. It has become a friend. A silent friend… But in this silence another realm of comfort has been discovered. So from time to time, I visit…

On some occasions I have another friend who accompanies me. This companion I speak of glides over my tongue smoothly…“Tanqueray, with some ice and tonic please.”

I glide along this cold stream, in the clouds of fumes, peace of mind never departing. Well not until the bartender rings the bell. “Last call!”

And I am back on earth; I grab my coat and leave.

Outside in the still of the night, rain accompanies the darkness once more, so I pat myself down, find one more stick and…

I light one for the road.

– © Gbemiro *ade* Adebimpe”

Bio: Architect, Musician, Artist, Poet, and a few others might come along eventually. I am all about living life to the fullest as long as God approves and he is with you. LOL (lots of love.) xx

Written by Gbemiro Adebimpe
Manchester, UK