Author Archives: Tetiana Aleksina

Lightbringer ~ The one restored collaboration

A collaboration. Two different worlds collide and break. Myriads of shards fly apart. A broken glass… They say it’s good luck. Matt and I gathered the shards carefully. We didn’t hurry. We enjoyed the process. Our collaboration is like a restored stained-glass window. I must admit that the picture that appeared when we finished was a big surprise for both of us.

I want to put one of Matt’s comments here.

“This one had a profound effect on me, my philosophy and beliefs.”

I don’t know what I can add here. Thank you, Matt! Thank you for your courage, for your honesty. Thank you for your talent.

I’m proud of our collaborations.

lucifer_by_caelicorn

Lucifer by Caelicorn

If a world is a house
and people are windows
I am the window which is always dark

Too long I was under your curse
I doted too hard on you
I was doped… near a fatal dose

Upon cold Earth I fell
raptured by the hungry darkness…
as years like days passed

The transparency slowly fled
My glass tempered and stained by rain
scraping my pane like salted tears

I am a black leukoma
on the spotless white face
Inoperable, necrotic cells

I was deplumed to blood by you
I was grilled to ash by you
I was the roasted angel…

But I will know light again
for my descendants are many
on the final stage they have placed me…

Rustle of maracas
and cold black candle-ends
are around me. I take a wax knife

Shamans circle – music peaks
West winds blow relentless
My rite of passage awaits

I fight with bright sunshine
to the last drop of day
I kill it like a mad savage beast

The years are purged now
My ethos born anew
beneath stars of endless night

If a world is a house
and people are windows
I am the window licked clean by hatred

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & THIS MORTAL FLESH
© All rights reserved 2015

The Odd Days & Life of Elatha Jarlath McGhille. Part A. Eanáir ~ The one came in from the cold collaboration

Guys, do you remember Elatha Jarlath McGhille? No? Okay! Don’t sweat it!

The most important thing is that you remember Gregory. His blog, cocktailmolly, supports independent artists, writers, poets… Greg pushes up young talents and does his best for every new voice so that they can be heard. But not many people know that Greg is a brilliant poet himself. Yes, he is! You can believe word. (No? You can’t believe me? You can check cocktailmolly to make sure that I’m not a liar!)

I’m lucky because I enjoy the privilege not only of reading Greg’s stunning works but collaborating with Greg! So, it’s the next part of our saga ‘The Odd Days & Life of Elatha Jarlath McGhille’. Ladies and Gentlemen! Take your plaids and thermoses! Today is pretty chilly…

raaf_home

This story starts where other stories end.
It was just another boring weekend.
Under the black sky and moon glow
Peering from the apartment window
My eyes. Frustrated still waters percolating wonder
At walking chimes seeking permission to ring louder.
Next Christmas passed by like a commuter train
and Santa ignored my letters again.
I write on the frozen glass ‘Nevermore’…
It’s nearly dawning. The chimes struck four.
Causing a celebration for equanimity.
A new year and no one hears me.
Within itself exploding volcanoes that will force more to grow.
To ring louder & louder as a thunderous burst causes a show.
That fire in the sky is our voices.
Debating the ideas running from sheep & the mischief of Corvus.
Will timelessness stretch out to the crack of doom?
My stagnant mind returns to my airless room.
Old musty wallpapers with whitish spots
from removed portraits… it makes no odds.
I never loved their histrionic look…
I look up at the ceiling with an empty hook.
That is used to grab hold
At the edge of an opening crack shaded gold
Stretched until it’s a spinning hole.
Full of cosmic colors. My dreaming’s out of control,
As the cosmic color filling oozes onto my bed
Taking shapes like the human body, lying next to me, it said
Something about splashes of inspirational kisses,
Sunshine smiles and enlightened darkness going for miles.

…the sky removes a black dress with starry cufflinks
and wraps itself in a pink peignoir… My egregore winks.
“Elatha, we waited a long time for you. Let’s go!
It’s time to meet with your replicas and talk to your echo.
It’s time to learn who you are and what your real telos is…
Well… are you ready to stop your watches?”
Stop. Everything stops.
His story revealed. A soulful blues.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & GREGORY WAITS JR.
© All rights reserved 2015

Oops!… We Did It Again (GUEST POST // Less Than Two by Tony Single)

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 2015-2018

Day 01

Damn! Quotes are such a tricky thing. Especially ones without a context. I’m always very careful with quotations. Yes, I see a question in your eyes. “Why is she whining here?” It’s easy.

I was recently invited by my friends to take part in the ‘03 days 03 quotes challenge’ party and I said, “YAY! Thank you! Of course, you can count on me!”

Prakash Hegade, Sheldon Kleeman, Ethel Beckett! 
Thank you, my dear friends!

Rules:
1) Post 1 quotation a day for 3 days.
2) Nominate 3 other bloggers to participate per post.
3) Thank the blogger who nominated you.

But when I started to write my first post for this challenge I realized the scale of my problem. I’ve since changed my mind three times before opening my rough draft dated June 27 to write these lines.

Of course, it’s not a big deal to find some cool quotes from some cool famous guys and be happy with my own coolness. I even spent about an hour searching for them. But then I suddenly understood that hiding behind other people’s famous words isn’t something that I consider a really cool thing. That was my first thought.

My second thought was to use my own quotes from my various essays and poems. It’s not very modest but at least I could always take responsibility for this bullshit. I’m glad that I didn’t start to do this because I liked my third thought much more…

I don’t want to use famous quotes. I don’t want to use my quotes. My friends! My community! My dearest Writers and Readers! Let me use your quotes!

I was nominated three times, so I will take three quotes and their authors will be my nominees. All agree? Excellent! Let’s go!

Grandpa asked why
I talked to his veggies
said I didn’t know
Didn’t know
how to say
Veggies don’t hurt me

Michael Spahr, ‘Grandpa Had A Garden’

One day,
when it’s time for me to go,
I won’t cry.
I will look back on all these days I got to spend,
and I will smile.
I’ll be glad that I’ve had the chance,
to be alive,
and all in all,
that I’ve lived
a pretty good life.

PROSPERMIND, ‘A pretty good life’

Writers write for they are egomaniacs,
A fancy poem our soul’s aphrodisiac.
Spinning words, the most heinous temptation,
Desperation for eternity our only salvation.

Obsidian Visionary, ‘Writer’s Dissolution’

Hmmm… Yes!
The end.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

GUEST POST // Triune-Heart by Madam Marmoset

Pussy willow, pussy willow,
Where have you gone?
Hiding far away
From the madding throng.

Her feeble paw stretched out in a futile attempt to grab his attention. There was a new cat on the block, lean and lithe and graceful. The old cat had been ravaged by age and sorrow. Her face and body showed every single line of her life, every punch that had been thrown at her.

He sat there between his two lady loves, happy, content and blissful, blissful in the love that filled the room.

The old cat continued to stay lit upon his lap. He instinctively stroked her, tenderly, gently and often. She mewled and purred with pleasure.

The young newcomer quietly took up a position near the old cat. She was in sacred space now. The old cat was battered and bruised. Her beauty had been washed away by the tsunami of time. The new cat was a delicious mystery, exotic and unknown. That they should exist, side by side in harmony, in respect, was sublime. Pure love would prevail.

Energy shifts, exchanges, grows and releases. It sends forth its light into the universe. Somewhere, all this love and energy must have gathered to form starlight.

The old cat stirred restlessly. Yowling, she clawed into his hand gently, yet not enough to draw blood. She was weary and defeated. Her world was changing, crumbling. Chips were coming away and cracks appeared, but they were not enough for the eternal light of love to shine through. She shivered, cold and battered.

The young cat saw this and approached. She nuzzled the old cat lovingly. “You’re not old yet,” she was saying. “I need you to love me. I need you to teach me how to love this man. I need you to share this love with me.”

Sharing love, there’s a thought. If love is infinite, why should it not be shared? Starlight never fades. The universe is endless. Time flows, and life with it. Just as the shore changes over time with the tides, so love evolves, eroded by heartbreak that clears away the briar so that love’s purest nectar can come to rest.

The old cat stirred and wakened. She nudged her head against his arm. She noticed the new cat lying beside her. In a moment bound in starlight, she touched the new cat, both receiving and giving love.

The man sits there, happy and content, his lady loves entwined and bound in love for each other… and love for him.

by MADAM MARMOSET
© All rights reserved 2015