you slip through my fingers into the sand
and make a trail in speckle and spick
the prints of your limbs a lost dna strand
sprigs pop in your wake, magic and mayhem
ocean waves give your feet a slavish lick
comets swirl to give form your diadem
in this moment i am the creator
sower of dreams, bringer of time’s tick
standing at the edge of heaven’s crater
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
It’s happiness and pride for every writer to get grateful and skilled readers, to inspire them, to encourage them for their own oeuvre. Honestly, when we started our trilogy, we didn’t expect such amazing feedback.
We were overwhelmed when we got such a brilliant spin-off of the first installment ‘Bastet’, a heartwarming and intimate story called ‘Triune-Heart’ by Madam Marmoset. The second part ‘Sekhmet’ was awarded with a colorful and daring dilogy ‘In the Corner with Maftet in Bubastis’ by Jonathan Noble.
There are mixed feelings when you watch how your characters move out of your control; it’s a delightful mix of envy and pride. You try to guess their next step, and fail gladly. You want to predict the next twist, but you want even more than that to be surprised. It’s like laying an egg again. You never know what’s going to be inside. Bliss!
We always publish our guest posts with special feelings. We celebrate every new ‘like’ and every warm comment. We’re both very proud and happy.
Thank you, dear community, dear Writers and Readers, friends! Thank you!
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015
I try to pull words
over gnarled reality.
They bulge at the seams.
They rip like worn-out stockings.
Fast. Uncompromisingly.
Darn! Reality
is prickly and awkward-shaped.
I throw ripped phrases
into the rubbish-words-bin
and take the next unworn pair.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015
Sometimes he loses the flow
and feels like an empty caul.
Sometimes his favorite show
is a tapestry on the wall.
His voice is an ant in resin…
Dumbness. An unfertilized plot
becomes incoherent and thin
on the bottom of the dry ink pot.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015
Something happens somewhere. Between heart beats, between pulse throbs… something happens between you and me. I inhale.
Suddenly serendipity
haven’t yet had
morning coffee
and already fingers
freely streaming
my sleepy feeling
can’t dissuade
What am I feeling?
A fragile lotus
arouses from
the innermost recesses
of me
Its petals glimmer
They spire through sleepy slough
My core breaks
into bloom
What am I feeling?
I’m endlessly grateful to Spahr Plops, an amazing poet and my great friend, for this collaboration. It was really transcendental experience. It was insight. It was a breath-holding poem. I exhale…
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & SPAHR PLOPS
© All rights reserved 2014
unbolt me 