Tag Archives: Choices

lungpipe shanty

that one with the punched lungs
has taught me to breathe freely
to expand in every moment
my view beyond the horizon
has taught me to get drunk on air
raise a toast to the blissful life
uncork & exhale my dreams
& inhale all possibilities

that one with the punched lungs
has taught me not to hie away
from each rum quaff of oxygen
each gulp, each gasp, could be the last
has taught me to square my shoulders
wear my sailor’s crown on high
walk the plank with a shambler’s jaunt
use my voice with ne’er a grumble

that one with the punched lungs
has taught me to sing shanties
to marinate beneath the stars
away from landlocked bores
has taught me to stand before storms
to know my place within them all
when even acid rain stings my lungs
when even the mast punches my lungs

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

déjà vudu

all the skeleta dansing
dansing in their skin shells again
in a world burning to the ground
stubbing their durry minds in
that ash bowl of hell they once called eden

would that you’d been a part of this
or would you have, given such souls
them resolute that turned their backs
on curiosity & knowing

three cheers to the danse
the pleasing aroma of reason charring
to the snuff of nothing above the clouds

all the skeleta dansing
a descent into backwards heights
the danse of flurried minds tonight
we’ll exist should they allow it
but don’t hold your breath

their masks full with empty fool heads
all hail the bliss of dullening
to themselves be the glory
to mine own the lost othered story

three cheers to the danse
the macabre aroma of reason charring
good that you’d not been part of this

in a garden of dimming lights & lost delights
how do they not concede the signs
all pointing away from their vaunted heaven
now, one more time

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

GUEST POST // Mooooove On, You Little Fly by yassy

Mooooooooove on, you little fly
You will sit your little behind on my poo ( cow dung )
Then sit yourself on my teets
The milk that goes into the milkman’s pail
will have extra treats..

by YASSY
© All rights reserved 2025

nigredo moth song

you are the clinging taken flight
ev’ry night at behest of gaslight
a shadow’s veil o’er pale lea
froing ev’ry where with ev’ry care
a full-wing’d catastrophe

expell’d from skeet cocoon
& still not yet fully bloom’d
unaliv’d to breathe again
into hallow’d dustings of lung & wing

the flame, they say, casts a treacherous spell
but you’ll scudder through like you always do
prevail somehow, wee gossamer soul

you are the feelings all at once
all fronts abandoned to the hunt
to dire thunder afore the dawn
ev’ry care to ev’ry prayer
to ev’ry thready need to mourn

but dusk can ne’er negate joy
tho’ you feel not yet fully bouy’d
forsake all the haggl’d horrow
in begotten age of thrum & wing

the flame, they say, casts a treacherous spell
but you’ll scudder through like you always do
prevail somehow, wee gossamer soul

the tide does heap perilous weight
its freight upon you a cragging hate
dragging the air from your charcoal frame
ev’ry prayer scries ev’ry where
hying too close to dark waters again

traject’ries erratic as night is long
are you feeling too much all o’er again
will you be a conclusion forgone
you surely cannot be the only one

the flame, they say, casts a treacherous spell
but you’ll scudder through like you always do
prevail somehow, wee gossamer soul

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

GUEST POST // Talking in Code by Whitecatgrove

Lay down, lay down, antlers fallen from
the crown. A king falls, a doe dies, and wise
the mouse who makes his house in the moss!
O the cost of this solitary life —
paid out in blood and mountaintops, the coin
of misunderstandings. The warbler
cannot understand the mockingbird’s
almost-speech. I’m tired. I’m talking in code.
The deer’s wild heart beats its mighty last.
This too shall pass. The vultures crack the bones.

by WHITECATGROVE
© All rights reserved 2025