Category Archives: POEMS

body rhymes

she kisses me for inspiration
but is it meant for me or her
does my nose provoke the muse
to gift more undying love sonnets

but sometimes a nose ain’t enough
you also need an actual brain
but one cannot mack on a brain
which poses quite the dilemma

should i chainsaw open my skull
to give her more direct access
but then i’d lose my brain on a stroll
and that ain’t no good for her or me

so now i wear a dustbin lid
hinged to open over my brain
with my nose still exposed beneath
the opportunities are endless!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

night in circadia

the city nestles into evening
the city curls & the city shrinks
it hides in its shell like a snail
folds in on itself like wilting kale
it fills with the headlights of glow worms
between the sleepy power line sway
the treacherous mesh of branch & leaves
& mortar & brick & wire weaves
the phantom moons & ghostly sounds
entangle in fountain & rusted pipe
the owl looks on from its lofty perch
as echoes through streets resume their search
see how the signs change their meaning
to string together new lullabies
& the wind sighs a song in the spaces
between the lost dreams of lost places

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

the great silence

i cleave to myself, o’erwhelmed
on a stuttered trail of dreams
holding this space ‘tween the firs
’til in snowfall i dissolve
fallen to the flurry of time

often have i bethought myself
of the needle wreath she placed there
(’twas as fine a crown as any)
she told me she loved me for the last time
& i’ve waited since for renewal
for the gladdening of another spring

the older i get, the younger i feel
& predictably, the less i know
tho’ i am sad, i’m very much alive
hoar frost my heart & beard
& strangely featherlight this weight of years

no longer will i trace my beginnings
nor do i care to know my end
hereon this wintry canvas
i’ll remember her to aught that hear
& bethink the ones left behind
then in silence wish that all be well

i am ready to move on
this my bearing, for better or ill
‘neath the greylag’s flurry for more time
within the great white yawn ‘tween wooded tines
a world sadly devoid of her charms

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

vanity & cat flaps (life hack furballs)

it’s called youtube
& i alone understand that
you use it to put videos on
mostly of the kitty variety

but this here is called mytube
& on it i’ll do whatever i please
i’ll use it to post shower videos
look at me getting into a lather!

& now here are my bits
scrubbed all nice & clean
can you see how they sparkle
more than the glint of a kitty’s brown eye

& now here are my hairy bits
combed all nice & neat
can you see how silky they are
more than a kitty’s licked ball sack

& now here are all of the bits
tucked away all nice & tidy
can you see how they nestle
more than a kitty in big ass cleavage

& now let’s look & see
which videos ring the most bells
& get the coveted thumbs up
down to the lowest common denominator

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’s AND TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Gifts Returned by Walter Savage Landor

“You must give back,” her mother said,
To a poor sobbing little maid,
“All the young man has given you,
Hard as it now may seem to do.”
“‘Tis done already, mother dear!”
Said the sweet girl, “So never fear.”
Mother. Are you quite certain? Come, recount
(There was not much) the whole amount.
Girl. The locket; the kid gloves.
Mother. Go on.
Girl. Of the kid gloves I found but one.
Mother. Never mind that. What else? Proceed.
You gave back all his trash?
Girl. Indeed.
Mother. And was there nothing you would save?
Girl. Everything I could give I gave.
Mother. To the last tittle?
Girl. Even to that.
Mother. Freely?
Girl. My heart went pit-a-pat
At giving up … ah me! ah me!
I cry so I can hardly see …
All the fond looks and words that past,
And all the kisses, to the last.

by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR (1775-1864)
Public Domain Poetry