Tag Archives: Grief

GUEST POST // I Live in a House of Cats by Jen Payne

I live in a house of cats:

three before that were

one – Emily
after the poet
loved blue jays
a thing with feathers

and two – CJ
namesake Joy but
arrived with grief
that lifted with love

then 3 – Crystal
so full of life and love
she sparkled!

[ There were two drifters

Moose, who lived next door but preferred to garden here

and Little Black Kitty who learned to trust slowly but enough ]

Of course Lola,
Zen master
lost then found
found me

Now: Molly
Good Golly,
is Whippersnapper
a name for a cat?

by JEN PAYNE
© All rights reserved 2023

stripes and buttons

your hot tears drop onto my knees
like the ash of a careless smoker
they burn tiny holes into my pants
i’m thinking, “it’s nice these pyjamas are old”
and hugging you close

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2023

ABSURDIS EXTREME // Case Study #7,101,952 [10/04/2023] by B.A. Loney

Once upon a time, Vladimir Putin shot himself in the head and billions around the globe rejoiced. Steven Seagal, however, did not rejoice. He mourned the death of his boyfriend and never made another shitty martial arts movie ever again. And this too caused the billions around the globe to rejoice. The end.

P.S. Though one other person did cry… but who cares?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

hallelujah gloaming

a girl and a dog sing under my window
the minor falls, the major lifts
and all my disquietude drifts
off to one side and out the door

the sky full of stars and the moon so blue
moths take a fancy to my table lamp
my cheeks recovered from their former damp
and the thought in my head that boys don’t cry

i look at the pile of crumpled sheets
the last blank page in my shabby sketchbook
the promise of less is all it took
to end at the start and cry some more

so i draw the girl and her funny dog
the stars and the moon, moths and the lamp
and this seat of emotions will subtly shift
to slough off the shadows when morning comes

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Dirge. by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Why were you born when the snow was falling?
You should have come to the cuckoo’s calling,
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.

Why did you die when the lambs were cropping?
You should have died at the apples’ dropping,
When the grasshopper comes to trouble,
And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble,
And all winds go sighing
For sweet things dying.

by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI (1830-1894)
Public Domain Poetry