hysteria

fie, oh fie for shame
god neglects to dry the tears
of fae, fie for shame

fain would fae grow tall
with all that dotage entail
when time doth reap all
the envigored life assail
turneth youth to rufous grail

fie, oh fie for shame
that void would swallow all tears
of fae, fie we fall

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

we were glossolalian

did you know this song was written for you
for my halves both & what we heathen were
we didn’t need always hold us inside
for three to abide
each breath’s suppression of rising horror
foretold our last for to rot in our shells
still in these spaces we let love abide
while we could abide

& the treetops swayed throughout all our days
now their roots reach down into our decay
the nourishment of our fading in dirt
& the love inside
all dogmas & empty puffery spent
& the former lives we laid wreaths upon
enkindled to the last our chosen tongue
tra la la, tra la la
tra la la la la
tra la la

did you know this song was chiselled in clay
each note an impression of quelled dismay
a triptych of anthems named for the day
for three to abide
all we wanted was renewal here now
clear hearts to drum away the chill of now
for to see we three through to noonday stride
while we could abide

& the treetops swayed throughout all our days
now their roots reach down into our decay
the nourishment of our fading in dirt
& the love inside
all the blue grey craters of the moon say
there’s no man in the sky or dreams to weigh
just enkindled nullifidian tongues
tra la la, tra la la
tra la la la la
tra la la

& here in the earth we three will abide
tra la la, tra la la
tra la la la la
tra la la
treetops unearthing the love deep inside
tra la la, tra la la
tra la la la la
tra la la

tra la la, tra la la
tra la la la la
tra la la
tra la la, tra la la
tra la la la la
tra la la

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

TATI’s AND TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Full of Life, Now by Walt Whitman

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

cracked stasis (1,183 days)

i didn’t get rid
of that cracked cup
because i know
one day from the tap
will drip a quantum of poison
& said cup will be handy

let me not drift in convenience
let me not fall asleep
while concrete is melting
& the stylus is charging

i didn’t get rid
of that cracked hope
because i know
one day from the news
will beam a quantum of light
& said hope will be handy

let me not sink in clamour
let me not fall asleep
while trust is hardening
& a stylus is charging

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2025

autumnal lights

nothing but regret
is this how we truly are
i think i feel us
enclasped in this tested life
have you forgotten to breathe

today was better
but we’re so very old now
grief soaken eyes now

has pain dimmed your sight
trauma lines your folded bones
the horizon’s dreams
banish away sun’s last light
can we forgotten aright

today was better
but you’re so very cold now
closed soaken eyes now

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025