Tag Archives: Mortality

TATI’s AND TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Hateful is the Dark-Blue Sky by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Hateful is the dark-blue sky,
Vaulted o’er the dark-blue sea.
Death is the end of life; ah, why
Should life all labor be?
Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,
And in a little while our lips are dumb.
Let us alone. What is it that will last?
And things are taken from us, and become
Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Let us alone. What pleasure can we have
To war with evil? Is there any peace
In ever climbing up the climbing wave?
All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave
In silence, ripen, fall, and cease:
Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.

by ALFRED LORD TENNYSON (1809-1892)
Public Domain Poetry

evanescent

a husk sat in dusk
looked for traces of itself
a husk raised its voice
wailed to return to the soul
of you me they she & we

but the ground was wax
& the sky so deaf & bronze
war had melted them

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

threshian harvest

it’s alright, it’s okay
you can lay me down now
in that circle poised for decay
or maybe tomorrow
or maybe back then
hell knows when

it’ll always be too soon
to attend such sadness but
it’s alright & it’s okay anyway

i need only as long as i get
& maybe moments more
for my life to matter
for to fill it with you
& the scenes we’ll ne’er keep
when our play is done

it’ll always be too soon
for such sadness to mend but
it’s alright to live & die anyway

you pay your debts with pain
then seek a new currency
& nurse that barb wire heart
but ask what joy would do
even when i’m gone
see, it’s alright, it’s okay

it’ll always be too soon
to pen such sadness but
it’s alright & got a poem anyway

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

this terminal horizon

rockets, the whistle & drone
chill morning’s zombied air
& perhaps i’m wondering why
as grief covets the grasp of resolve
why more things can’t be possible
why all tomorrows must end

for certain i once was not
dread certain i’ll be not again
but how many days shall pass between
between crib & the yawning earth
for to compose nullifidian hymns
for to soothe in the ghast of dawn

& mainly they drink their own tears
vainly they think their pious fictions
plainly i’ll not be fooled so again
by the quiver of strongmen in bunkers
by gormless rumours of peace
by hope or scripture or fairness or whim

why all tomorrows must end
round & round in war’s grave spin
for to soothe in the ghast of dawn
& the immurement of being
by hope or scripture or fairness or whim
we inhumane vie for suffering

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

mortality

stare down time’s barrel
breathless pause, the hammer click
bang! fornevermore

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023