Tag Archives: Death

TATI’s AND TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Since Then by Madison Julius Cawein

I found myself among the trees
What time the reapers ceased to reap;
And in the sunflower-blooms the bees
Huddled brown heads and went to sleep,
Rocked by the balsam-breathing breeze.
I saw the red fox leave his lair,
A shaggy shadow, on the knoll;
And tunneling his thoroughfare
Beneath the soil, I watched the mole
Stealth’s own self could not take more care.
I heard the death-moth tick and stir,
Slow-honeycombing through the bark;
I heard the cricket’s drowsy chirr,
And one lone beetle burr the dark
The sleeping woodland seemed to purr.
And then the moon rose: and one white
Low bough of blossoms grown almost
Where, ere you died, ’twas our delight
To meet, dear heart! I thought your ghost…
The wood is haunted since that night.

by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN (1865-1914)
Public Domain Poetry

martyrdom

woke was such a first-class word
when used to club the ones you hated
but when it meant human kindness
you told all babies to go stop crying
more bodies for your amendment
made for an acceptable trade
in your esteemed estimation
freedom to brutalise was king

‘prove me wrong’ was ever your mantra
when even you were provably wrong
had you known what this would reap
would you’ve chosen to cut out your tongue
when dogma is paved with the blood
the pain of the disenfranchised
bigotry looks a lot less like reason
& more like what it actually is

now at the end of your short life
riding vermillion neck spray
it’s a vip one-way ticket
up to your imagined heaven
but even with your mic in hand
dumb wee trophy, make no mistake
whatever your god may say
we the people still vomit you up

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

lex naturalis nihilis

the peroni virus takes the stand
as the judge takes his gavel in hand
the jury, petty, looks real confused
the face of the prosecutor bland

one wonders how it’s come down to this
a court room in a state less than bliss
they all look over at the accused
who waves to the press, then blows a kiss

& that’s the point where everyone dies
thrashing as they bleed from nose & eyes
the peroni virus takes its hat
& bids to all a pleasant goodbye

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

evanescent

a husk sat in dusk
looked for traces of itself
a husk raised its voice
wailed to return to the soul
of you me they she & we

but the ground was wax
& the sky so deaf & bronze
war had melted them

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

cold (boy in the grave)

what is boy to do when
the judge will not advocate
& silence is the crime

his death smacks heavenly sweet
honeyed thus for peace of mind
as the rest of life goes to pot
boy raises a poisoned chalice &
pleads for more hungarian wine

the bad man lashed & beat on him
enriched while boy had less to eat
a legal ward with no standing
but life, they say, can find a way
(tho’ god’s acre be down the street)

what is boy to do when
the judge does prevaricate
& silence is the crime

tho’ blood be often redder
bruises sting profoundly true
how could boy bear any more when
none would pluck this weight away
no reckoning hawk from the blue

his death shall taste bittersweet
at least it’s something left to eat
a boy full bellied on life now
sighs to emptied then lays he down
(for worms to feast in ‘neath the ground)

what is boy to do when
the judge chose to abdicate
& silence was the crime

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025