my life has value
more than your godish rainbows
& your dogma trees
we love who we are
if it’s all the same to you
this ain’t your babel
the stormfront at your table
don’t you know, is all on you
know the breath in me
blow a kinder rainbow on my cheek
show my life respect
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
Full of life, now, compact, visible,
I, forty years old the Eighty-third Year of The States,
To one a century hence, or any number of centuries hence,
To you, yet unborn, these, seeking you.
When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible;
Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking me;
Fancying how happy you were, if I could be with you, and become your comrade;
Be it as if I were with you. (Be not too certain but I am now with you.)
by WALT WHITMAN (1819-1892)
Public Domain Poetry
hey there, whistle pig
jumpin’ at your own shadow
i heard loose chatter
’bout the oracle of spring
surmisals of what you are
are you really tho’
in a world that is burning
the end at our door
hey there, whistle pig
time & season frock to you
like sacred vestments
as dictum starved rootle minds
shuttle past the hot black tar
what will you augur
in a world full of burning
the end at our door
hey there, whistle pig
when have you ever been right
flowers wilt in march
forsooth a burning april
‘neath the californian stars
have you e’er been real
in a world black with burning
the end at our door
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025
they say there will be a golden age
when the lion lays down with the lamb
& i say there will be a golden age
when the lamb goes for the lion’s jugular
we cannot sup safely with the fascists
without them exacting their pound of flesh
there’s no more time for demure silence
when they’re raising goblets full of our own blood
when free thinkers are chained to dogma
& women are made the property of man
they’ll poke their noses into every bedroom
declare that our love violates god’s will
we cannot lay down & be fucked like this
we lambs must sharpen our teeth for the fight
stub their gaping throats with righteous ire
with the shepherd’s crook we took back from fools
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
you can’t seriously believe
that the rabble will become tamer
if you let them rattle the bones
paint their faces with bird droppings
and kill one another out of fear
aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
presiding over flesh and bone
you can’t seriously believe
that billionaires are ethical
or in their dreams of conquering mars
when the rabble are crushed by mad cars
and clip one another out of fear
aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
feasting on feather, flesh and bone
you can’t seriously believe
that they seriously believe
they’re the villains of their stories
in such apocalyptic dreams
fighting high and low out of fear
aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
pricking with pitchforks feather and bone
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
unbolt me 