the Light-off-House keeper

Do you remember that guy?
Yes, who turned off the lighthouse.
At that time things were awry
and it ended up in the madhouse.

“Birds are better than people.
They can fly and sit on the steeple.”

Then two or three were shipwrecked.
It was in late November…
All appeals were rejected.
I was small, but I still remember.

“Birds are better than people.
They don’t weep. Don’t beg for a nipple.”

I saw his look through the bars.
I read his bloodless parched lips.
“…they fade in the light… like stars…
…lighthouse is evil… full eclipse…”

“Birds are better than people.
They never doubt to kill a cripple.”

James Bond was my cult hero.
(No, not the dolt from the film!)
His books were my ground zero.
Birds became lords in my little realm.

“Birds are better than people…”
I’m the most industrious pupil.

I defeated wicked light.
I secure happy birdlife.
I keep eternal twilight.

Somewhere somebody cries… it’s a sailor’s wife.

* * * * *

This poem definitely was inspired by the amazing poem ‘Le gardien du phare aime trop les oiseaux’ (The Lighthouse Keeper Loves Birds Too Much) by French poet and screenwriter Jacques Prevert and the short animation based on it ‘Farat’ (The Lighthouse) by Bulgarian director Velislava Gospodinova.

I don’t share videos too often, but it’s worth watching.
I hope you’ll enjoy this short masterpiece.

With love,
your Unbolt

‘Le gardien du phare aime trop les oiseaux’
de Jacques Prévert

Des oiseaux par milliers volent vers les feux
Par milliers ils tombent par milliers ils se cognent
Par milliers aveuglés par milliers assommés
Par milliers ils meurent.
Le gardien ne peut supporter des choses pareilles
Les oiseaux il les aime trop
Alors il dit tant pis je m’en fous
Et il éteint tout
Au loin un cargo fait naufrage
Un cargo venant des îles
Un cargo chargé d’oiseaux
Des milliers d’oiseaux des îles
Des milliers d’oiseaux noyés.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

GUEST POST // Living Rats Saw God (Haiku) by Ry Hakari

Carrot-sun, sky-stick
Change, chased to the horizon,
every eve, escapes

Last night I dreamed I
shaved my head to symbolize
this loss of progress

“Life is a rat race —
crawled bald, cradle to the grave”,
Wise Solomon says

Simple Simons say,
“Happiness is denying
cold reality”

I’m caught in between
dying in light of the truth,
accepting my lot

Living a half-life
in darkness of denial
of what I can see

I want to believe
things are better then they seem,
living lucid dreams…

I want to believe
my future’s not this fragile,
living denial…

I want to believe
where there’s a will, there’s a way,
living life, not lies…

I want to believe
when I die, life was worthwhile,
winning the rat race…

Søren Kierkegaard,
Christian Devil’s Advocate,
just like me, has said

“Life can only be
understood backwards; but it
must be lived forwards”

I want to believe
and read backwards “dog was star”,
living “rats saw god”

by RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015

Love in Ten Sentences

Recently I was challenged… GAH! What shit I wrote!

Recently I was blessedtetra-blessed! Four incredible bloggers, four great poets and four dear friends gave me a chance to participate in the amazing mission – TO SPREAD LOVE

Prakash Hegade (https://itsphblog.wordpress.com/)
Aubrey’s Arch (https://aubreysarch.wordpress.com/)
Prospermind (https://prospermind.wordpress.com/)
Spahr Plops (https://mspahr.wordpress.com/)

Thank you, friends! Of course, I can’t stay aside… I can’t let my blog turn into a cesspool for love! No-no-no! Only lovefalls, lovefountains and loverivers!

I start to splash my love right now!

Hey, Love, don’t take 
it bad. I’m love-protected.
I’m sorry, Love, but
your love-philtre was wasted.
Creeping thyme, foxglove, brandy
and clover don’t work.
Who’d loved, can’t swallow
your illusive love-bait again.

Stop, Love! One moment!
You forgot your gloves…

My favorite quote

“I love you”

(an unknown author)

Beautiful Insanity, 

Into the Forgotten

Strings of Soulfulness

Poetic Depression, 

Johnpoetflanagan

Reject Reality, 

Mindlovemisery

Henry Game, 

Homoestmachina

Shawn Worth

Guys, if you meet this wandering Love, please, be kind and good to it! Don’t hurt Love! Write a poem about love and title it ‘Love in Ten Sentences’. It should have 10 lines, each 4 words long. Every line should contain the word ‘love’. At the end of the poem, you should include your favorite quote about love. And then you should invite everyone to join in this holy mission ❤

Well… I won’t detain Love any more. I’ll let it go.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

Butchering (paying a tribute to my old yoga mat)

A medium size.
A medium density.
A medium price.
Generally, it’s dark blue
in the null assemblage point.

(Sometimes it becomes
red or green. But it’s kinda
my little secret.)
A fray is on the back edge
and a slight scent of joss sticks.

Dozens of defects…
The usual thing, in short.
Where is theurgy?
It’s a matter of arrows.
The bright red on the dark blue.

It’s my secret path,
my color-coded loophole,
my molded carcass.
A scheme of the primal cuts
for my gnostic butchering…

Numinous blades slip
and split along my axis.
The golden section…
I yield my offal and meat
under the Karma Cutter.

When my shanks sprawl out
and my round points to the east,
I distinctly hear
chuckling of a sacred cow
in esoteric silence.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

GUEST POST // Let Live by Ry Hakari & Tony Single

in central park twilight, a lone wolf
left alone, entrapped in thought
cold air and the staining snow
accursed regret, a taunting effluvium
and what is this a hint of
copper burnished with shame
the burning around the fur
it leaks, tastes bitter

i want my mother’s teat
nurse me, mother, don’t leave
tell me what ties bind me here
in this horrible hinterland

the sticky tree needles scent
strong, while i give off fear
is there life beyond the pack
where do i begin or end
the chase i lost, you chased me off
you wouldn’t forgive or let me live
and now I’m sleepy, fighting weak
with iron teeth as darkness falls

i want my mother’s teat
nurse me, mother, don’t leave
tell me what ties bind me here
in this horrible hinterland

by RY HAKARI & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2015

* * * * *

It’s dark. It’s cold. It smells like blood, sweat and… milk.
It’s virile.
It’s fucking awesome!

I’m happy to show you, my dearest Writers and Readers, the first collaborative poem of my friends. They both are incredible poets, they both are amazing friends and they both are… well, just cool guys!

Ry Hakari and Tony Single.
They both are great.
Check these blogs.

Learn poetry beyond the pack.

Yours,
Unbolt