Tag Archives: Hopelessness
#war #grief #hope (#addyourhashtag)
i see clouds through the clouds
and more clouds and then the sky
it’s the colour of obsidian
shot through with arcs of rocket fry
1… 2… war coming for you
3… 4… better lock your door
i see lies through the lies
and more lies and then the truth (i hope)
but the truth can be hard to hold
burns through more hearts than can cope
5… 6… grab your crucifix
7… 8… better stay up late
i see pain through the pain
and more pain and then the pain (it’s 2023)
where are our blue skies and amber
shone through by unbroken sovereignty
9… 11… never again
23… 24… forevermore…
but i see hope through the fog of war
and i don’t care that you think me a fool
life’s better than agreeing underground
that it’s better being above the ground
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023
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sometimes…
sometimes a lone leaf on a tree
has more poesy than a whole book
sometimes a lone page in a book
has more mosey than the hole in me
sometimes a lone me in a tree
has no more pith than a hole for a heart
sometimes a lone hole for a heart
has no more kith than cliff and scree
is this how it’s gotta be
an empath tipping from reality
into the inscrutable
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023
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Tumblevision #14
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penal revenant of the tellestian age
imprisoned, prowling the floor of my mind
stumbling upon the bones of enigma
i’m slathered with stale plastic wrap
stamped with their foul expiry dates
my flesh, a slab of drab rump steak
it is but merely a showcase for
that stoned butcher with the rusty knife
who’s ready to make the final cut
my zombie heart says, “amen”
but they all say, “no, so be it”
my limbs emboldened beyond the cage
like dreams, their grasp is forced back in
imprisoned, prowling the floor of my mind
tumbling over the stones of stigma
my paunch splits wide, a bottomless trap
and i’m falling right there through red-hot grates
my guts are raw from crying inside
from teardrops frizzling away all hope
a burnt out skin chafed by verities
i’m oozing pus, bleeding oneness out
my slavish soul fronts a lynching bee
my cries for mercy thread between blank brows
only mocking echoes dare answer me
and resort to rend free has been abandoned by thee
imprisoned, prowling the floor of my mind
fumbling within the groans of maligna
i’m getting a wanton, roundhouse slap
from the final set of closing gates
by MADAM MARMOSET, TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017
unbolt me 