Butchering (paying a tribute to my old yoga mat)

A medium size.
A medium density.
A medium price.
Generally, it’s dark blue
in the null assemblage point.

(Sometimes it becomes
red or green. But it’s kinda
my little secret.)
A fray is on the back edge
and a slight scent of joss sticks.

Dozens of defects…
The usual thing, in short.
Where is theurgy?
It’s a matter of arrows.
The bright red on the dark blue.

It’s my secret path,
my color-coded loophole,
my molded carcass.
A scheme of the primal cuts
for my gnostic butchering…

Numinous blades slip
and split along my axis.
The golden section…
I yield my offal and meat
under the Karma Cutter.

When my shanks sprawl out
and my round points to the east,
I distinctly hear
chuckling of a sacred cow
in esoteric silence.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

GUEST POST // Let Live by Ry Hakari & Tony Single

in central park twilight, a lone wolf
left alone, entrapped in thought
cold air and the staining snow
accursed regret, a taunting effluvium
and what is this a hint of
copper burnished with shame
the burning around the fur
it leaks, tastes bitter

i want my mother’s teat
nurse me, mother, don’t leave
tell me what ties bind me here
in this horrible hinterland

the sticky tree needles scent
strong, while i give off fear
is there life beyond the pack
where do i begin or end
the chase i lost, you chased me off
you wouldn’t forgive or let me live
and now I’m sleepy, fighting weak
with iron teeth as darkness falls

i want my mother’s teat
nurse me, mother, don’t leave
tell me what ties bind me here
in this horrible hinterland

by RY HAKARI & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2015

* * * * *

It’s dark. It’s cold. It smells like blood, sweat and… milk.
It’s virile.
It’s fucking awesome!

I’m happy to show you, my dearest Writers and Readers, the first collaborative poem of my friends. They both are incredible poets, they both are amazing friends and they both are… well, just cool guys!

Ry Hakari and Tony Single.
They both are great.
Check these blogs.

Learn poetry beyond the pack.

Yours,
Unbolt

GUEST POST // A Change by Spahr Plops

Don’t let gray
get grayer
graver could go
but I hope for
a reddy heady
bun babble about
anything peelable like
clementine counters

She set a coaster
and a cup of sweet
southern, lime over
lemon – already had
freshly started morning
sips of perky breath
blown my way

My direction
eventually persuaded
realized wrongful waste
thanks to her taste
full of ambiance

But mostly smiled then
because she said
“Don’t be such an ass”

by SPAHR PLOPS
© All rights reserved 2015

D:\backup\styles\life.LESS

When I get bleak and smile.LESS
When my life appears bright.LESS
I click my patcher. My wizard nudge
is the dynamic style{shit} language

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

LOL! Sorry, guys!
Code is poetry
Just a foolish style.LESS poem-compilation
Just a hard day’s night…

Haiku King & Tan’ka Queen (Tanka) ~ The ∞ ‘21 Shades of Blue’ collaboration

Broken, unspoken
not mending round the bending
over backwards turns…

I close my self-harmed blind eyes.
It’s my way to feel alive.

I stared at you, too
with the other lights in my
starry-eyed skyline…

My carmine, acid-burned tips
are thrilled to death to touch you.

But they’d stop me cold,
I tremble imagining
true human contact…
Long-distance indifference
is all I’m familiar with.

I over-fatigue
myself with affined-distance
contacts. A cold space
makes me warm. I feel a blade
which tickles my blepharons.

Vulnerable codes
of casual ciphers, cracked
Flirts, being known hurts…

Now I’ve heard a fucking chord…
Hallelujah… hell, I hack!

Lady Scissorhands,
with paper white skin, I know.
I’m Inside-out Man….

Blunt edges give much more fun
with unpicking blue and red.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015