don’t consider every poet a messiah
but, rather, a pretty sounding liar
the snivelling, hysterical jeremiah
was one such example
don’t consider every poet a liar
but, rather, a pathetic pariah
who’ll burn in the almighty’s holy fire
fuelled by his urine sample
don’t consider every poet a pariah
but, rather, a copious arse licking choir
worshipping elites with sexual desire
thirty pieces of silver will be ample
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
dancing in the ruins of the dead divines
i smelled the earth after the first rain
no more crackle of grass in a lake like glass
near ashimmer with new possibilities
and i lumbered through pain
to free me from the chains
stomping on a skull in its ruined crown
i heard the sound of its gnashing teeth
a lesser antilles of emptied homilies
near ashameless with inert fragilities
and i forged through pain
to free me from the chains
flaming through the deep of waters parted
i roared the defiance of an open tomb
saved two of each kind of all souls to find
near asundered with reassembled symmetries
and i frolicked through pain
to free me from the chains
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023
unbolt me 