Oh, God did cunningly, there at Babel –
Not mere tongues dividing, but soul from soul,
So that never again should men be able
To fashion one infinite, towering whole.
by LOLA RIDGE (1873-1941)
Public Domain Poetry
Oh, God did cunningly, there at Babel –
Not mere tongues dividing, but soul from soul,
So that never again should men be able
To fashion one infinite, towering whole.
by LOLA RIDGE (1873-1941)
Public Domain Poetry
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
stale memories in the cupboard
forgotten dusty souvenirs
that shirt you used to wear to church
the viola case on which you’d perch
those magazines with bums & tits
that more wholesome mickey mouse pin
you found on the path two streets over
near to the white cliffs of dover
the tin with lollies stuck together
mint & lemon with orange peels
‘twould be best to not partake
of these out-of-date belly quakes
faded photos with shabby corners
also out-of-date, make the heart shake
the more years fly, the more’s at stake
for lives with dead dreams in their wake
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
you were a child once
played hide & seek with the truth
smothered your world with a smile
silenced hearthlands with all guile
you held more than the rest of them
more than lifetimes could ever feed
cultivated deafness to their pleas
while touching the lichen on trees
empathy is plebeian
do as i say, not as i do
you held dominion o’er anthills
had them burned ‘neath your lens of rage
watched them scatter into entropy
as you & the bison trammelled lea
you felt so superior
& equally felt misunderstood
self-made with all the scaffolding
afforded you in childhood’s spring
empathy is plebeian
do as i say, not as i sue
the winterings of life now nearer
with less introspection than e’er before
& naught but tongues of sycophants
to baste the gilding of your pants
the end of life now upon you
do your riches gleam paler than e’er before
could you have been less of a bastard
& mayhap wept a little more
empathy is plebeian
do as i say, not as i rue
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025
i wanna eat too!
said the blob to the boy
but the boy wouldn’t share
the blob nursed a grudge
started to muster gall
waited for the right moment…
but the boy went away
never to be seen again
what was a full blob to do
unable to hold it
the blob swelled up & burst
gall splashed everyone around
hunger for vengeance
always fails to satisfy
leaves you feeling hollow
but it’s also the boy
who should take some blame too
what a shit little meanie!
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024