help [me] overcome
\\myself//
reach }}inside{{
pull me
_out_
let me ~run~ my fingers
down. your. throat.
I want to
________f
_________a
__________ll
into the **magic** of
your •eyes•
while I +ride+ you
into |o|b|l|i|v|i|o|n|
by TARA CARIBOU
© All rights reserved 2017-2020
shadows played out on the wall of days
sand hissed from the dead giant’s ear
i did its mind like a line of cocaine
(blood of the polterchrist compelled me)
then a unicorn defied what we thought we knew
wrecked itself on all we’d formerly eschewed
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
you wore these
and now i too
to feel close to you
when i open up my lungs
it’s you i’m breathing for
a pranayama for two
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
i don’t think i’d ever have been old enough
to be the equal of you in our younger days
to the fullness of all our summers i lived
i know you have tried to remember them all
and of course we could never have been forever
here merely for the term of our natural lives
the naïve hope was to simply not die
how’s not to reason why
for as long as my shadow’s here at your side
your regret will be a coma of dreaming
and that blanket of night will smother you
so that all you’ll feel is the pain of now
love is a beautiful hideous thing
i miss you my dear, and thank you for trying
if we could we’d kick the whole damn sky in
i’m nowhere forever and you’re haunted more
grief is a beautiful hideous thing
miss you my dear, and screw me for dying
but tomorrow things will work out somehow
you’ll smile again in the reeds at morningside
we thought we held all the keys didn’t we
to lock all the doors to mutual oblivion
but no matter how far and vain you wander
in this hall of echoes you’ll never find me
and of course you remain to remember now
how we railed at the stalking geist of death
though i wish i had not crumbled, dear
you should not yearn to have died with me
and you’re old enough now to be scared of forgetting
but the end, as we’ve seen, is a broad church
and the road there is an arduous song
so for now be resigned to the sunshine my dear (i won’t mind)
love is a beautiful hideous thing
miss you my dear, and screw me for flying
if we could we’d kick the whole damn sky in
i’m nowhere forever and joy will return
grief is a beautiful hideous thing
i miss you my dear, and thank you for crying
but tomorrow things will work out somehow
you’ll smile again in the sunshine at morningside
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021
I am a shell. From me you shall not hear
The splendid tramplings of insistent drums,
The orbed gold of the viol’s voice that comes,
Heavy with radiance, languorous and clear.
Yet, if you hold me close against the ear,
A dim, far whisper rises clamorously,
The thunderous beat and passion of the sea,
The slow surge of the tides that drown the mere.
Others with subtle hands may pluck the strings,
Making even Love in music audible,
And earth one glory. I am but a shell
That moves, not of itself, and moving sings;
Leaving a fragrance, faint as wine new-shed,
A tremulous murmur from great days long dead.
by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET (1898-1943)
Public Domain Poetry
unbolt me 