Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)
Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.
We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*
If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.
* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016-2018
unbolt me 
Hi…..I read and re-read the poem, especially for it’s rhythm and easy flow. It’s beautiful.
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Thank you very much, Shalini. I’m so glad you enjoyed it! 🙂
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The repetition and echoing makes for a claustrophobic atmosphere!
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That was certainly the desired effect, Dave. Thanks for visiting and commenting! 😀
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Reading this was fun. I liked how you put the titles of previous masterpieces into the new poem. You are a bloody genius 🙂
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Aw, Bridget, you flatter me. Thank you so much!
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Wow… absolutely stunning imagery, Tony.
It’s likely too late for him to get help from a Melancholics Anonymous support group. He really does face down a series of no-wins… there can be no rest / for to lie down means death… if he tries to sing / there is no tune. All the while the “time clock” insists on punching out his life. Confronted by life’s up and downs / he opts to sink… rather than dealing with our world’s unpalatable taste / he chooses to starve… with joy being so unreal and unattainable / his tears spill as the dreary cello plays on. And in the end, he’s condemned to “hang out” on the gallows till death liberates him?
I wonder if your amazing poetry could be set to music? Something along these lines… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rYrYjAsbBw
and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRJ-rdZfQ_U
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Both of those are excellent choices, Tom. Maybe even something along the lines of Nick Cave could work? I don’t know. I don’t have any musical talent whatsoever, but it would be a fine thing to turn this into a song. I’ve always thought of it as a kind of song anyway. And thank you for your astute analysis too! It’s always a pleasure to read one of your comments, good sir!
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I thought of John Merrick from the very first line. It’s how he died, in the movie. But he didn’t write poetry. He made a model of a cathedral that he could only partly see. He said: “i have to imagine the rest”. Great poem, my thanks for it.
Catweazle.
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I remember watching that movie as a child. I felt sympathy for John Merrick while it was playing, but as soon as the movie stopped and I was in bed that night… I suddenly had an almost debilitating fear that he would come into my room and stand next to my bed looking at me. (I don’t know why this should have scared me but I was a weird kid.) 😛
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It’s hardly a suitable movie for kids. Babar the Elephant would have been better.
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Ha ha ha! Yes, you’re right about that. 😛
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That was an absolute pleasure to read – well done! Great craft.
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Thank you muchly! 😀
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Wow. What a cheerful rhyme scheme for such a dreary dark poem. You truly have a gift, Tony.
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You just brought a big smile to my face, Xaranahara! Thank you! And, yes, that was a deliberate contrast. Kind of like a Carpenters song that way. It sounds cheery but wait until you pay attention to the words… 😛
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True. Vampire Weekend is very similar in its poetic style, actually. You sort of remind me of them at times.
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WOW! Tony… what can I say that other havne’t already? chapeux. I get it 🙂 great ending
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Aw, thanks Daisy! And thank you for visiting! 😀
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This a very good poem. The sad thing is I kind of see myself in this guy. Considering how he seems to end up it is kind of terrifying. Maybe that is the idea.
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I hear you, my friend. I’m afraid I am this guy myself, and there are days where I really have to push through the bleakness… just out of pure, bloody-minded self-preservation. I never want to take matters into my own hands like the guy in the poem does. Thankfully, these days, I’m not tempted to, but it’s a hard slog. I wish you all the best in your own struggle. It isn’t easy, I know.
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Bravo! I’m giving you a standing ovation.
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This is me taking a deep bow. Thank you! 😀
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