Tag Archives: Poem

Oops!… We Did It Again (from the heaven of my heart)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017-2018

Oops!… We Did It Again (a grief with no name)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017-2018

Open-Source Poetry #2

Dear Readers,

We’re so pleased that we took a risk and began our own little Open-Source Poetry experiment. What if we offered a space for you all to collaborate on a poem together? How would something like that play out? Well, so far it seems you’re having just as much fun as we are!

We received a staggering amount of contributions. Wow, or what! We hadn’t expected this, so we want to give our warmest thank yous for your excellent creative efforts. You have been funny, cute, thought provoking and sad. As a result, we’ve had an enormously difficult time picking the second line for this poem. You all are quite simply brilliant!

So, after some polite debate between us—although there were no fisticuffs, Tati did use a fire rake on Tony as her closing argument—we’ve chosen the line that we feel was the most unexpected and ridiculous. Without further ado, let’s thank Phoenix Risen for his contribution, and invite all of you to the next round!

And for those of you that would like a reminder of how this wonderful little experiment works…

1) We provide the next line of the poem.
2) You write the following line.
3) You submit your line via the comments section of this very post.
4) We pick the line we like most and add it to the poem.
5) We publish every line to date in a follow-up post.
6) Steps 1-5 are repeated until we have a masterpiece!

Hey guys, let’s keep the ball rolling!

Вензель

What if I said sorry for saying sorry all the time? 
Or should I just give you a baby porcupine? 
Alas, it will be one and the same outcome
Вензель_нижний

by TETIANA ALEKSINA, TONY SINGLE & PHOENIX RISEN
© All rights reserved 2017

alice’s real life wonder(less)land

your black silhouette
is a tremendous keyhole
etched against the door

it is a pity
that I never could reach the
three-legged table

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017

GUEST POST // Category F by Alexandra Omelchenko

This morning, I thought:
“I’ll get a tattoo, three symbols F32.”

On my neck or wrist,
anywhere above a pulse.
To remember that life beats
even under F32. It’s there,
even when you’d  rather
make it stop.

Even when smiles break crooked,
when laughter freezes into sarcasm,
when all the razor edges
cannot set free the lost and useless
soundless screams.

I’m done. I promise.
I’ve put the razors down.
I’ll find a tattoo parlor
for one last game of sharpness.

They ask why would I want
to carry on my skin a code and summary
of things best left on wards or in therapist’s chairs?
(Quiet! The first rule of the category F club
is not to mention the category F club.)
The strange part is, I’m not ashamed.

Do I even need a reason beyond “I want to”?
I still am F-ed up in the head, remember?
Besides, a reminder that I promised myself
to live, to give up the flight and the fight
may actually be of use.

It’s decided: I pick the wrist.
To get through moments like this:
breath in, breath out, make fists,
open palms, touch air. Look at your wrist,
breath in, breath out, go on.

by ALEXANDRA OMELCHENKO
© All rights reserved 2015