to & fro

oh, hammock, how congenial you are
your embrace is clingy yet feathery
languid, you rock me from side to side
‘tween my past and future, to and fro
for now, suspended in harmony
for now, suspended in harmony

ain’t nothin’ will get done wrong
ain’t nothin’ will get done right
if this rope remains too long
if this knot strains too tight

oh, hammock, how unpalatable you are
your embrace entraps me, it is too easy
suffocated by your smothering tide
hung down deep, boundless sleep below
for now, crucified in harmony
for now, crucified in harmony

ain’t nothin’ will get done wrong
ain’t nothin’ will get done right
if this rope remains too long
if this knot strains too tight

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

GUEST POST // Reverend Zombie by Vivian Zems

Reverend Zombie
Dressed in an eerie costume
Using crystal balls
Tells me he can see futures
About me, he tells me truths

So impressed by him
I urge him for more insight
This wonder, this sage
That is when I realise
The Fake’s on my Facebook page!

 

by VIVIAN ZEMS
© All rights reserved 2017

GUEST POST // Ears Wide Open (Dublin – A Rite of Passage by Miljenko Williams)

The voice of Mils makes butter melt.
His poems are lush, heart-freakin’-felt.
Yeah, lend an ear and you will agree
He deserves to be our first nominee
For audiohood on site Unbolt.
His talent is a much needed jolt
To lift our game and write effin’ good,
To not fear being misunderstood.

Dublin – A Rite of Passage

Before I was soiled: I was
oiled unhappy;
toiling and boiling like
cauldron of darkly wizard-
like pose;
a fingerpinch of spite,
of masculine passivity,
of man who never was become.

Now is another matter:
now he is become:
now he runs like training-
man; now the game no longer judd-
er[r]s, shakes or shudd-
er[r]s out of mind, or sight of flailing
in-
com-
pet-
i-sham.

And of all the sites and scenes delivered,
like rapt-
tured box of heavenly gifting,
the rite of pass-
age which most delivers me
is the right of
so
passing close
you do

give me.
The laughter and tears;
the fears and the hurts;
the love freely expressed:
the goddamn life you contain and inscribe
and so simply
define, with your brain and your being and your

goddamn beautiful face;
your his-
and your her-
and them-
stories bloody out there you unfold and retell and
spin ingeniously around me and my soul and my
being and my hell;
still untold, still unfollowed, still unknown by
most out there.
Dublin: I love you, more
than you
know.
Dublin: I love you, because you and your people
weirdly know how
to make me this [s]well: [s]weller
than [s]weller ever was.

And whilst time is still ours, the future is still
built – upon pasts that are passed;
upon guilts that begin slowly to wash away in
[time-
{s]-
hhh} I say, as
I discover the suddenly that the man
I become is more than the son of his father.

And pictures and faces and sounds and dis-
graces; sexual wroughts that pilfer
my thoughts and make me
happy again; as
happy as free man and
woman can be.

And the days and nights I pass
in remembrance of Dublin
past, and future maybe perfect too,
remind me all the time of you.
And a life recovered
is a life remade;
retaken as warriors burrowing violent
under-
growing and gnawing and
hurting and sad,
and ultimately the [bad-
d-
es–
{t]-
i-
me} of all
is what has recalled me away from
the life I could
live.

And maybe it’ll work, and maybe it won’t,
and maybe it’ll break us;
but if we don’t try and see, and check in and check
out,
we always shall rue the night-
and day-
t-
i-
me-
s
we refused to
pursue the
one life we’d lead
and even enjoy:
good Lordy, oh my …

:-)

… that really such a sin?
To hope for such win?

So I begin where
I start: before and after a-
part of so many experiences,
imagined and real; the soul
and the heart I have refound in
Dublin.
And then what is real if not in the hug
of your embrace?

For a future
begins to replace the before and
after which started so hurt,
and now begins rightly to
away fade to
black …
… not the black of all bad, nor the
black of all pain; just the
black of all colours: the
rainbow of
sane.

 

Text by MILJENKO WILLIAMS
© All rights reserved 2016

GUEST POST // Living Rats Saw God (Haiku) by Ry Hakari

Carrot-sun, sky-stick
Change, chased to the horizon,
every eve, escapes

Last night I dreamed I
shaved my head to symbolize
this loss of progress

“Life is a rat race —
crawled bald, cradle to the grave”,
Wise Solomon says

Simple Simons say,
“Happiness is denying
cold reality”

I’m caught in between
dying in light of the truth,
accepting my lot

Living a half-life
in darkness of denial
of what I can see

I want to believe
things are better then they seem,
living lucid dreams…

I want to believe
my future’s not this fragile,
living denial…

I want to believe
where there’s a will, there’s a way,
living life, not lies…

I want to believe
when I die, life was worthwhile,
winning the rat race…

Søren Kierkegaard,
Christian Devil’s Advocate,
just like me, has said

“Life can only be
understood backwards; but it
must be lived forwards”

I want to believe
and read backwards “dog was star”,
living “rats saw god”

 

by RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015

Oops!… We Did It Again (I was walking too fast)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2014-2018