’til river do us part

a black river rolls its waters in state
past a dirty hut’s stoop and manor’s gate
a white nymphea on the satin river’s breast
eyes enthralled like a bride’s at a funeral fete

the young maiden stands on an old dam crest
folding a long wedding dress to her chest
a cold wind hugs her shoulders, her ideal mate
it whispers to her in feverous behest

a black river rolls its waters to the strait
aloof, indifferent, like the decrees of fate
the young maiden on the satin river’s breast
the hearse carries the bride to her wedding fete

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2018

the swansong cycle (part two): black swan (the piano & balalaika elegy)

desolation is just a word
desolation is just a feeling
it’s nothing to do with me
yet i cry anyway
i plan to rise above it all
one of these days

when i can fill no more
when i begin to finally pour
let this last gasp elevate me
let this last gasp make me to soar

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

beautiful homunculus

love ripped through your brightened veins
you wondered how much you could possibly take
the blood (a choir) roaring inside you
rushing to shape a song inside you

naught can be done to hasten the healing
but you have to know they’re only scars
and i love you, my homunculus
hurt and all

your voice was sandpaper’s rasp
no one understood, who among them could
blood in a cage, no doors inside you
no release for the song inside you

naught can be done to hasten the healing
but you have to know they’re only scars
and i love you, my homunculus
hurt and all

you’re loved, deplumed, so no more pretense
no longer can you be about mere survival
blooded for life, a kindling inside you
the filaments of song deep inside you

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018