forever ambered

we set out to find a secret stone on the pavement
and began to whirl like that girl in the devil’s dark pearl
do you remember
we laid upwind the pheromones of enslavement
then took a daring stance to dance the prance of scalded squirrels

we looked right at the april sun
tho’ we were told not to
we huffed and chuffed o’er happy air
dandelion swirls behind our eyes

we set out to find the hoary old chestnuts of burgeon
and began to pray like gay fey in jehovah’s dark play
do you remember
we rowed upstream with a warry shoal of kingly sturgeon
then in emerald grass laid brass to glass in arcane ritual

we looked nebby at the may moon
musing next on what to do
we fussed and cussed o’er happy air
dandelion swirls behind our eyes

the locket on my neck
as ambered as the gleam in your eyes
enshrining our faraway spring
you do remember

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Cat Metamorphosed Into A Woman. by Jean de La Fontaine

A bachelor caress’d his cat,
A darling, fair, and delicate;
So deep in love, he thought her mew
The sweetest voice he ever knew.
By prayers, and tears, and magic art,
The man got Fate to take his part;
And, lo! one morning at his side
His cat, transform’d, became his bride.
In wedded state our man was seen
The fool in courtship he had been.
No lover e’er was so bewitch’d
By any maiden’s charms
As was this husband, so enrich’d
By hers within his arms.
He praised her beauties, this and that,
And saw there nothing of the cat.
In short, by passion’s aid, he
Thought her a perfect lady.

‘Twas night: some carpet-gnawing mice
Disturb’d the nuptial joys.
Excited by the noise,
The bride sprang at them in a trice;
The mice were scared and fled.
The bride, scarce in her bed,
The gnawing heard, and sprang again, –
And this time not in vain,
For, in this novel form array’d,
Of her the mice were less afraid.
Through life she loved this mousing course,
So great is stubborn nature’s force.

In mockery of change, the old
Will keep their youthful bent.
When once the cloth has got its fold,
The smelling-pot its scent,
In vain your efforts and your care
To make them other than they are.
To work reform, do what you will,
Old habit will be habit still.
Nor fork nor strap can mend its manners,
Nor cudgel-blows beat down its banners.
Secure the doors against the renter,
And through the windows it will enter.

 

by JEAN DE LA FONTAINE (1621-1695)
Public Domain Poetry

the genesis flask

you slip through my fingers into the sand
and make a trail in speckle and spick
the prints of your limbs a lost dna strand

sprigs pop in your wake, magic and mayhem
ocean waves give your feet a slavish lick
comets swirl to give form your diadem

in this moment i am the creator
sower of dreams, bringer of time’s tick
standing at the edge of heaven’s crater

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

Barbaric methods

You mildly murmur at me
that I don’t value things,
all these lovely expensive things,
that you present

I wonder why you can’t see
I have only one use for rings,
all these useless diamond rings,
to make them pleasant

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015


 

Happiness is just another angle of view. Please, let yourself be happy…

with love,
your Unbolt

a Book (Fragment #027)

Урок 27 - The Book (by Culpeo-Fox)

An awesome work by Culpeo-Fox. Favourite books, favourite movies, favourite voices and favourite persons…

Again… this happened again. Again, I was reprimanded by Mr. Turdman and sent to our library to endure my punishment. I restrained myself with some effort, and hid my happy smile. I put the mask of a martyr over my face, and slowly left the classroom. The conditions of my punishment were that I must unpack some boxes filled with donated books. I must repair the damaged books then sort and catalog them all… Do you think that’s boring? Hell, no man! I know this work well and enjoy it!

On my way, I came across Patrick outside the library… Hmm… What the hell was he doing here? He should be in the basement near his precious ribbed eggs As usual, Patrick was engrossed in himself and didn’t notice me… or he just pretended that he didn’t… as always… My day would be made if I ruined him and his eggs! With such lovely thoughts, I walked into the library.

…I need, my dear friend, some illusions of elegance. Some elaborate magic tricks of my mind. Some visually enigmatic intrigue. Hmm… For example, I see… a pompously decorated dinner table… genteel society and lazy intellectual discussions… candles, goblets, silver… The luxurious tablecloth falls down to the floor… long… so long… and… Do you know what? It isn’t a tablecloth! It’s the hem of a dress! Long… so long… A long evening dress, an elegant, beautiful dress. It’s worn by a pretty girl standing on the stairs… with a glass of red wine and a cigarette in her cigarette holder, with a fur boa on her white marble shoulders… The girl is apathetic and cold. She doesn’t care about this genteel banquet. She spits on it. But… no… I was wrong! I glanced into her eyes… I understood… She isn’t cold and apathetic! The moment passed – she sharply tugged her hem! And candles, goblets, silver fly up into the air! And expensive red wine splashes pale aristocratic faces like luxurious toilets! And truffles with oysters dirty the exclusive parquet and silk wallpapers! And our girl… Oh! She’s fucked them all over! She’s leaving the banquet with her head held high through the front door…

…when I came back to myself, I was alone in the dark at the library. Damn! What is this? I twiddled the book without a cover in my paws. (to be continued)

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014