Category Archives: POEMS

Что в осени тебе моей?

Что в осени тебе моей?
Она дика и молчалива.
Немного в ней веселых дней
И много – серых и тоскливых.
Ее холодная рука
Не ободрит прикосновеньем,
И не зардеется щека
Желанья сладостным томленьем.
В глазах прозрачных голубых –
Лишь пустота и бесконечность.
Усыпан прахом дел земных
Алтарь – подножье слова ‘Вечность’

В один из шумных летних дней
Я с ней случайно повстречалась.
Похоже, нравилась я ей…
Она давно уже скончалась,
Но часть ее во мне осталась.
Что в осени тебе моей?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

Oops!… We Did It Again (a Doll)

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 2014-2018

GUEST POST // Self Eat by Spahr Plops

Normally remedy
But today
decided eating myself
was more interesting

Melty brain
made the chair, air
surreal
Could feel
my body protesting
till weakening

I don’t meditate
though pretty sure
when I ate
from an empty gut
I was
traveling across
mood shifts
and hunger spikes
striking against
my being
curiously punishing

Skipping lunch
carries much
loosely, groovy
goings
throughout waves
without creative aim

Unfortunately
each trippy
relax
(before painful
relapse)
always stemming
from single source
screaming, “Feed me!”

Eventually
succumb
Don’t want to fall
down stairs
Then while ingesting
first thing (an apple)
I begin to feel dumb

Many others starve
due to evil
I experimented
(couple hours or so)
because I found meditation
unable…

by SPAHR PLOPS
© All rights reserved 2014

a Question

To write, or not to write, that is the question…

But not while a hellish Muse keeps a gun
And air in your room is full of tension.
What must be done, that will be done.

To write, to write, to write… and no questions!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

GUEST POST // 100 Clocks by Field of thorns

My heart — has its very own heart
It’s very, very small
This very small heart
Beats louder than –
A hundred clocks upon the wall
This very small heart
Is kept under lock
Wrapped up well –
Often out of stock.

by FIELD OF THORNS
© All rights reserved 2014