EARS WIDE OPEN // the ley of three (a firefly’s monologue)

Valentine’s Day is upon us again—a happy time for some, but not so much for others. It has been said that love makes the world go round, but what happens when love leaves? The world stops, and you wonder if you’ll ever get out of bed again. Your precious heart goes dark.

When I lost my faith, I thought I had lost the love of my life. I was wrong. I hadn’t. You cannot lose what was never real to begin with. Nowadays, I am able to see and feel more clearly. I can breathe without the crushing weight of dogma on my chest. The people I now know, I can love wholeheartedly. Of course, I try not to hurt them, but I don’t always succeed, and I am thankful that they can look past my failings. I know for a fact that I am nothing without their kindness and patience.

This poem is an ode of sorts. Yes, it’s for the ones I love. It’s also for the strangers I may never meet. It’s for those of you who have suffered on Valentine’s Day because love left. Perhaps you’ve felt despair within an inch of hope. Perhaps you’ve sensed pain waiting patiently at the door for vows to break. Perhaps old age or ill health robbed you of someone, just when you’d finally learned to forgive and accept. It’s fair to say that love is not for the faint of heart.

This reading was recorded with the accompaniment of a wonderful track by Kai Engel of the Free Music Archive. I hope it can help you in some way. I hope it can bring you some small measure of clarity. And I dearly hope love will find you again, that in the meantime you won’t let your heart go dark.

 

 

 

the ley of three (a firefly’s monologue)

i’ve been ghosting in and out of life
for a good long while now
your life, her life, and my own
i’m the conjuring lost at life’s murky end
and i no longer wish to delay
for night threatens to subsume we three

lone perforations in the dark are we
we’ve tarried here, for hope’s shape to beam
behind us and through
to propel us to… something
but it seems we’re not the stars we prayed for
nor the burning triptych others dismayed for

there’s a fallen saviour, dead in the night sky
and i think we know it
it could have clapped hands over us mankind
but chose not to
us mankind that had pledged not to lose our way
back in the good old days

so, what are we
a chorus of one, or are we not
are we some kind of earthen trinity
go on, you can answer me
are we a three-in-one rumbling spark
that shall never let the heart go dark

i’ve been ghosting in and out of life
for a good long while now
pulsing across the ley lines of our heart
linking the terrain ’til death do us part
mapping the terrain ’til death do impart
a silencing hand for all that lies below and aught above

and i said to myself, ‘if i don’t gain the world
then perhaps i might not lose my soul’
but do i have a soul, and i’ll die anyway
without faint recall to when and from
when and from we three embarked
when and from our heart sank dismally dark

there’s a saviour, dead in the sky
gone to be with a dead god
it could have clapped hands and sung over us
but chose not to
it chose not to reunite us in love, us mankind
at the cusp of a new day that was promised us

so, what are we
a chorus of one, or are we not
are we some kind of earthen trinity
go on, you can answer me
are we a three-in-one thunderous spark
that can never let the heart go dark

i’ve been ghosting in and out of life
for a good long while now
pulsing across the grey lines of our heart
without faint recall to when and from
when and from we three embarked
on our search for the day line of our heart

each day has been eclipsed by the day before
the past has been banished to the past
and mortality’s ephemeral scream
lost yonders have faded us beyond recognition
but who says we can only be here for a short while
yet the stars remain impossibly high (and we cannot be them)

there’s a fallen saviour in the sky tonight
at the right hand of a small god that won’t let us in
it could have clapped hands and brung us over once
but chose not to
we’re blood and bone, us mankind, the earth to till
until judgement day, these are the rules

so, what are we really
a chorus of one, or are we not
are we some kind of earthen trinity
go on, please answer me
the three-in-one continuous spark
we must never let our heart go dark

never

 

Text by TONY SINGLE
Audio by KAI ENGEL & TONY SINGLE
Image by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

THE CRUMBCAST // He Said, She Said…

Guess what? I’ve gone and done the unthinkable, and re-recorded episode twenty-five of The CrumbcastJoining me for this reboot is my wife Cassy whose talky talky abilities far exceed my own. Seriously, she knows how to keep a conversation going when all I tend to do is waffle on like a prat. She’s got the gift of the gab, you could say. And, actually, Tati and I have often discussed the possibility of making Cassy our agent…

“So, why redo this instalment of the podcast?” you may or may not be asking. Truth be told, I was deeply unsatisfied with my previous effort, and felt it would be better to have someone to conversate with. My recording experiences with Peter have given me a taste for this, and so I’ve decided to continue in this vein. And anyway, does anyone in their right mind really want another long, tedious, rambly monologue by me? Of course not!

So, what do we talk about this time? Well, what don’t we talk about! Let’s see… The Crumble Cult strip Subversive Element‘. Blue hair. Tattoos. Sluts. How to make a sister write your comic for you. Hell, social mores and more! Y’all are gonna have a great time with this one, and mostly because my better third is so utterly intelligent and engaging!

Oh, and please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below. And maybe even leave a question you’d like us to answer in the next Crumbcast. We can’t promise that we’ll be able to address everything, but we’d love to try! So, go ahead. Ask!

PS: To listen to the podcast, click on the image below. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tells ya! No pesky sciencey stuff here!

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

THE CRUMBCAST // Unremarkable Words (But They’re Mine)

As promised, I’m back with a new episode of The Crumbcast.

Believe me, I haven’t  been wasting time. In fact, I’ve been doing a lot of work on me. I’ve been moulding myself into a blue-eyed, muscle-bound adonis with curly, golden hair and a honeyed voice that will make your ears orgasm. I’ve been learning French, Argentine tango and how to poach eggs. (Steal ’em or cook ’em?)

Okay, now that I’m the worthy hero of your dreams, you ladies can start showering me with your lacy panties. And you blokes too, if you’re that way inclined. Hell, I belong on the cover of romance novels everywhere! Someone give me a book deal!

What? You don’t believe me? You say I’m still a sad old sap with wild hair, spindly limbs and a pot belly? That even my voice makes crows want to nosedive into a field of landmines? That my writings are your worst nightmare? Not to mention the quality of my eggs…

Ahem.

Okay, fine. So I’m still the same me I’ve always been. It isn’t easy to please everybody. And I only become a parody of my already absurd self whenever I try to. Living up to the expectations of others is definitely not recommended, and that’s something I touch on in this episode.

Anyway, I’m back, and I kinda hope y’all have missed me… even if just a little bit.

PS: To listen to the podcast in question then please click on that picture down there. To view the comic strip that my rambling centres around, then please click here. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tells ya! No pesky sciencey stuff here!

PPS: Oops. Since this post went live, I’ve recorded this episode a second time. You can read the reasons for me doing so here. Sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused, but I feel it was for the better. Honest!

 

by TONY SINGLE (with help from TETIANA ALEKSINA)
© All rights reserved 2019

THE CRUMBCAST // The Last Hurrah!

I’ve always been a bit of a nervous Nellie. I don’t quite know why. You’d think with all the hard knocks I’ve gotten through life that I would’ve toughened up to some extent. But no. I’ve developed some nervous habits instead. You know… like a sane person.

That’s what Peter and I discuss in this episode of the Crumbcast.

Speaking of which, this is the last Crumbcast we ever recorded together. It was done and dusted many moons ago, and he’s since moved on to greener pastures. I’m still bereft that he and his partner have gone, but they gave me a little skull satchel to remember them by… and so I do. I love that little satchel. It’s very black and skully and awesome. Muggers will have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands!

Anyhoo, I digress. Next episode of the Crumbcast will be back to just me again. Ugh. You unlucky things.

PS: To listen to the podcast in question then please click on that picture down there. To view the comic strip that our discussion centres around, then please click here. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tells ya! No pesky sciencey stuff here!

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

THE CRUMBCAST // Atheism and Other Religions

This is the Crumbcast where I introduce myself as Tiny instead of Tony. Freudian slip or just a slip of the tongue? You be the judge.

So, anyway, it’s Pete and I having a good ol’ chinwag again, and this time the subject is religion and atheism. We reckon that these can sometimes be the same thing. Now, there may be those of you don’t like what we say regarding this, but we hope you’ll stick around and join in on the conversation in the comments section below.

PS: To listen to the podcast in question then please click on that picture down there. To view the comic strip that our discussion centres around, then please click here. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tells ya! No pesky sciencey stuff here!

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018