(and god did nothing)

in darkness he went down
in a braille of feet and saltwater sand
to the sea awayed he
from the so-called promised land

who would be torn if not he for he
for the span of what was and never would be
his tears only added to the plan
a gram worth nothing, impotent man

in silence he laid down
under veil of nori and saltwater cran
to the sea awayed he
from a post-coital life spent in remand

who would mourn if not he for he
for the span of what was and never would be
his fears only added to the plan
a gram worth nothing, impotent man

child of god
he prayed for something good and true
slave of god
swallowed instead by the reckoning blue

in parentheses he drowned
into vale of drib and saltwater dram
to the sea awayed he
from the parochial feckoning hand

who would have borne if not he for he
for the span of what was and never would be
his tears and fears added to the plan
a gram worth nothing, impotent man

child of god
he begged for something good and true
slave of god
swallowed instead by the beckoning blue

child of god
into a sea of no avail
slave of god
to the reckoning sea travailed he

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

christ on a bike

why do they add the aitch between
and how is that meant to be offensive?
jesus and christ, middle name harold
likes long walks on the beach and hurling frisbees
what’s so contemptible about that?

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

the strand (lost paradise lament)

seraph, a man in a grain of sand
how far you have fallen
all trace of you got swept beneath
the sea of time, your alleged crime

you tried to pay your respects
to the last breath, but lies still lie and
fidelity has long left the stage
he’s gone, never to pass this way again

you bear the echo of all that was
with the weight of a dead crown
are these the days of clarity
in the sea of time, a bitter wine

lilies grow amongst the skulls now
the aftermath of your unseen war
have you not seen through the tears
you, the unreconstructed man

silence, and dark tranquillity
morning star, you blanch at the dawn
parlay at the speed of trust’s decay
this sea of time, the mere sublime

grief has frozen you to the shoreline
the pain of you reaches into a lie
verging on hope, though god knows why
a quiet smoke seeking ascension’s sigh

who will come for you now
who will comfort you, bury you

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018