heaven folded in on itself
when the angels dropped like anchors
and with them all hope
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021
heaven folded in on itself
when the angels dropped like anchors
and with them all hope
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021
there’s whale song lilting in my brain
e’er beyond a distant shore
away from the fever dreams i
had circumnavigated
to be with you
in stoic avoidance i’d
edged between foam and dune
got shipwrecked in lieu of belonging
and realised this place was ne’er home
nor bullion of promises meant for me
was it e’er only me
this resolve i had to follow you
had it e’er been the face of god
that mine hands held out to enfold
there’s waters swelling o’er that shore
nigh on the embankment of my brain
and the whale song serenade
decrying happy e’er once upons
i finally see that i was satan all along
and ‘tween these flashes of meaning i
espy twin trails o’er bleary sands
one forged with longing, the other you
anchored away from expectation
the fading proof of our story
had i e’er only been
this resolve straining for you
was it e’er truly the face of god
or mine hands beheld to the prints of darkness
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021
and so do we all decant
all along our silent roads
incant in silent refrain:
‘when the book of breathing is closed
when the clocks are covered in the town of lazarus
when the faience of minds has declined to the last’
in that final silence that befalls us all
will the ghost of you remember me
and gather up the ghost in me
will you lovingly take the ashes and bone
and carry me home
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
this is the forgotten road
a funnel for the words we could never say
but should have
where his pain keeps step with the ghost of me
to this very day
of all the memories that could have been taken
what is the use of this last one
the one that was left behind
took on a life of its own
and with it has taken his own
i have wept in secret
through weather properly clement or not
and long after my heart had stopped
when i tried no longer to claw through earth
to claim again my former resplendence
the bones of me in this burial mound
the ghost of me in his room again
his bereavement heartfelt vain
one could pain to refill with hope
but his is a barrowman’s chore
and the husk that lingers
mere baggage for the day
and as much as the life not owned
was the purpose not sown
i still pine for that which was human
aimless and pointless tho’ we were
our lungs in chorus were a blessing
his pain keeps step with the ghost of me
silent words for a silent road
and when we think nobody is looking
leaning into myth to light our way
but is it okay that we inevitably fall
we have wept in secret
through weather properly clement or not
and long after his heart has stopped
when he tries no longer to claw through earth
will we meet again in former resplendence
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
paint the room
herr weltschmerz has come to stay
and nothing will ever be the same again
tho’ the weather’s properly clement
tho’ he’s never cried the blues before
what’s left that can be properly said
of a man who’d tried to claw back the earth
to kiss his truelove’s final resplendence
the ghost of she keeps count with him
there to haunt his bereavement vain
what can he be but indentured to sorrow
a pain as wide as the days unstemmed
he sorely regrets he’d ever been human
mouths silent words oft kept for silent roads
and for fear he’ll decant so many more along the way
stands deathly instead as a stone unyielding
locked inside with his grief… and fading
herr weltschmerz has come to stay
veins shockingly open to the unspooled light of day
paint the room
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020