Seraphina lives here.
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022
Category Archives: AWARDS & OTHER POSTS
TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Solitude. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all;
There are none to decline your nectar’d wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX (1855-1919)
Public Domain Poetry
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SPAM® Sushi #23
Greetings! Very useful advice in this particular article! It is the little changes which will make the biggest changes. Thanks a lot for sharing!
— Fencing Posts Near Me
Cheers! Very useful comment in this particular article! It is the little words which will make the biggest lack of sense. Thanks for… well, nothing?
— Tati & Tony (Two Super Bemused Fencing Post & Pole Dancing Inspectors)
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022
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TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Parrots by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
Somewhere, somewhen I’ve seen,
But where or when I’ll never know,
Parrots of shrilly green
With crests of shriller scarlet flying
Out of black cedars as the sun was dying
Against cold peaks of snow.
From what forgotten life
Of other worlds I cannot tell
Flashes that screeching strife;
Yet the shrill colour and shrill crying
Sing through my blood and set my heart replying
And jangling like a bell.
by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON (1878-1962)
Public Domain Poetry
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TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Spring by Alfred Lichtenstein
A certain Rudolf called out:
I have eaten too much.
Whether it’s healthy is very questionable.
After such a greasy lunch
I really feel uncomfortable.
But I belch beautifully and smoke
Cigarettes now and then.
Lying on my heavy belly,
I chirp nothing but songs of spring.
Longingly, as though on a ramp
The voice squeals from the throat.
And like an old lamp
The wind blackens the bitter soul.
by ALFRED LICHTENSTEIN (1889-1914)
Public Domain Poetry
unbolt me 