Category Archives: TONY’S POEMS

willspring

the puddle you plapped on through
were once a well e’er tranquil deep
still i spared your feelings sheer
tho’ none allowed me tend my own

were we running out of time
to cultivate me with you
or are you glad i’m gone now
to bare horizons me bestrewed

the inner guts of my skull
once a hill of bones replete
a place you called golgotha
now one through iris shone with hope

i fear we have had our time
to cultivate the me from you
must confess i’m gladness gone
to horizons tilled rain bestrewed

sometimes things don’t work out
once thought it ne’er would for me
& sometimes you have to leave
before the seed can dare to bloom

know there can be no more time
feel the inner guts of my will
gone to build me a new home
to far horizons hum bestrewed

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

not for this world

& the hooded skies emptied
o’er another fallen star
it was only love undeclared
it was only consciousness after all

growing up was unavoidable
& i was taught to be unlovely
but not them
they could not have shone brighter
had they been allowed
& a hidden christ could have shown itself

how long had i been walking here
turning white noise into useless words
for all the things that could ne’er be said
for all the eyes i saw that were dead

sleepwalking down paladin lane
where even the hobos had their song
& harmonicas to play it on
just heavenly bodies now
tainted by god’s grey earth
i’d ne’er shine so bright as they
i’d ne’er fall so fine as they

where were you, hidden christ
to save us, misery, one & all
when we found no place at the table
when another epistle went unpenned
when grief was failure to participate
when i lost myself again

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

ménace à trois

yeah, seagal loves putin, besties forever
see them carve it out in a heart on a tree
better still on warm bodies
& i’m sure their mutual wankery
is the one true path to enlightenment

why would they live to serve
when they can shirk all that’s deserved
shitting themselves in a shared hole
of their own making, always taking
we all know how this story goes

putin hates zelenskyy, enemies forever
see him carve it out on a nuclear tease
better still on still bodies
i’m sure his religion of geography
is the one true path to dominance

they both have skin in the game
a bit more so than you & me
yet all we can do is sit & argue
does might make right, peace less so
we all know how this story goes

yeah, trump loves trump, cahoots forever
see him carve it out on democracy
better still on nubile bodies
& i’m sure his lies & weaselry
is the one true path to supremacy

still dodging the arm of law
all we can do is cheer or boo him
& putin plays trump like a fiddle
as both try to outstrongman seagal
we all know how this fucking story goes

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

psychopomp (whither goest thou)

a vastly hush at cockcrow
there’s nowhere left to hide
neb & feathered black mass
gilds yon mirror ‘neath thy feet

thou art fæder’s mortal binding
yon summoned ængel framework
atween slight’d he & domination

where be killer’s instinct now
thou saltst the earth to death
bound yon misery to thy guts
so vengeance can take its stage

thou art fæder’s embankment
yon crumbling ængel framework
atween fjord & ego’s deluge

the path of ruin afore thee
staunch not the blood of fell swans
grim misdeeds shriek ahind thee
for aye be a butcher’s curse

thou art fæder’s catafalque
yon sombre ængel framework
atween e’er earth & nullity

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

ripples in the soup bowl

when you’ve traced your secrets into the sand
with a spirit’s hand at the water’s edge
is when the tide washes in to wash it away
& now no one on earth will have ever known you

when your face can’t be a part of this world
at the ripple & quell of a wishing well
your reflection does question former times
where no one said you could be lovely

& you’re wondering why you had to obey
when you did not wish to hold a gun
& you’re wondering why she bothered to stay
when you could not put bread in her hand

those men lined up at the soup kitchen
were never allowed to be more than hunters
with dusty hearts & those lifeless eyes

when grace extends only so far as merit
don’t be so loyal to your suffering
they’ve laid claim to your life without consent
& indentured you to kill in the name of

when disgrace has felled you for the last time
when the muffled gunfire burns in your lungs
when you wake into your funeral wreath
beyond the subatomic algorithm

& you’re wondering why you had to obey
when you did not wish to hold a gun
& you’re wondering why she bothered to stay
when you could not put bread in her hand

those men lined up at the soup kitchen
were never allowed to be more than fodder
with dusty hearts & those lifeless eyes

you can love like no one owes you
you can give however you want
but no man can bend forever
the men lined up at the soup kitchen
were never allowed to be simply human
no man can bleed forever

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024