i may never

you died in the month of may, didn’t you
when you slipped and fell from the dead god’s hand
you knew then that you’d only led yourself astray
that silence was not the only silence

and all you could think to say
how is my life not mine
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

you’re the once and ever failure, aren’t you
you never could shine as bright as they
all crafted jewel and curated moments
superior vessels built for purpose

and all you could think to say
how are these tears divine
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

you’re the shadow that shrank behind, so you
became harrowed when tracing your heart song
and moths stole along, they ate your pockets
and then all of your dreams trailed sore away

and all you could think to say
i am the last of my kind
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

don’t call us, we’ll call you

he goes away with a drooped head
followed by the eyes of alley cats
without applause, without flowers
his key monologue remains unsaid

he goes away in a fading ray
stepping over scattered set and props
and wind frays his shadow on the wall
like the theater bill of a failed play

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2018

GUEST POST // spring by John Flanagan

break a leg young thing
this is your moment
after all those morgue afternoons
rehearsing old school mystiques
fine tuning your pauses
making each phrase count

your entrance upstage
deliberate slight in silhouette
moving into light and out
making us sit up

a stir
a single shoot
peep of crocus
hiatus
second delivery
you hold our breath in yours

delay the extended arm
purple patch declamation
flourishes of yellow madness
in winterspent fields

in the morning we’ll blog and tweet
your budding craft
your youth

 

by JOHN FLANAGAN
© All rights reserved 2018

Open-Source Poetry Two #1

Dear Readers,

It looks like we’re pretty desperate. For the sake of poetry, we’ll readily bear anything. The last round brought us an invasion of cockroaches. We wonder what will happen this time…

A bout of saporous lolly acne? A rain of worthless bitcoin that darkens the skies for months? Our legs dancing an endless Eskimo jig? It’ll be worse than the ten plagues of Egypt from the Old Testament!

Still, this won’t stop us from providing you, our Dear Readers, with a safe haven for your collaborative efforts. “Collaborative efforts?” we hear you say. “What collaborative efforts? And to what purpose?” Well, let us fill you in…

1) We provide the first line of a poem.
2) You write the next 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 the first and second lines in a follow-up post.
6) Steps 2-5 are repeated until we have a masterpiece!

See? It’s the very definition of supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! So, have fun! But, please, whatever you do, don’t fling us in dat dere briar patch! We can handle pretty much anything but not rejection!

Вензель

She looks in the book like into a mirror

Вензель_нижний

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

penury (partygoer’s purgatory)

it is noisy with whoopee at the bar
it is hot with tamale and saucy with noodle
air thick with ciggy smoke mixed with cheap jokes
yeah, take another toke to forget you’re stone broke

the bar counter shrine is hungering for blood
the bar counter priestess is offering free ribs
heretic heads adorn the timber door stud
and chalices are hoisted over manly beard-bibs

no matter where you go, there you are
no matter when or how, your whole kit and caboodle
you would blindly revoke with a pig in a poke
yeah, fake another hoke to forget you’re stone broke

the bar counter butcher is washing hands in the mud
the bar counter baron is pushing for first dibs
a hangman’s noose dangles from the withered redbud
and malice does roister over the barrow and crib

a battered jukebox gives you a nasty jar
a wooden mug bites your thumb with a sharp toodle
you get sober and woke, and you cast off your yoke
tho’ nothing can ever cloak the fact you’re stone broke

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018