Tag Archives: Poetry

timeless regret

in the beginning was false light
all hope with zero substance
in the beginning was a false start
all hopeful disqualification

where is your shining future
has zeal undershot the mark
the wooden veneer has rotted
on the springboard of your past

the guts of your journey is now
no space for before or hereafter
no time for you to distinguish
starting lines or finishing ribbons

in the end silence lays with you
deathbed’s unwanted dire love
in the end you lay with the four walls
and posters of promised yesterdays

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Lessons by Sara Teasdale

Unless I learn to ask no help
From any other soul but mine,
To seek no strength in waving reeds
Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
Unless I learn to look at Grief
Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
And take from Pleasure fearlessly
Whatever gifts will make me wise
Unless I learn these things on earth,
Why was I ever given birth?

by SARA TEASDALE (1884-1933)
Public Domain Poetry

psychopomp (whither goest thou)

a vastly hush at cockcrow
there’s nowhere left to hide
neb & feathered black mass
gilds yon mirror ‘neath thy feet

thou art fæder’s mortal binding
yon summoned ængel framework
atween slight’d he & domination

where be killer’s instinct now
thou saltst the earth to death
bound yon misery to thy guts
so vengeance can take its stage

thou art fæder’s embankment
yon crumbling ængel framework
atween fjord & ego’s deluge

the path of ruin afore thee
staunch not the blood of fell swans
grim misdeeds shriek ahind thee
for aye be a butcher’s curse

thou art fæder’s catafalque
yon sombre ængel framework
atween e’er earth & nullity

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

applied philosophy

the humanist and the quietist
walked along the beach
and had a respectful dispute
about freedom of speech

their plimsolls were leaving traces
on the golden sand
the evening sun embraced them
and everything felt grand

they had time to puff on their pipes
about once or twice
before their wives distracted them
with asking for advice

their children’s wedding was pretty soon
and all was mess and froth
on top of that, the wives couldn’t agree
on the colour of the tablecloth

an hour of scandal, some broken plates
torn shreds of hair and squeal
that moment the phrase ‘freedom of speech’
seemed absurd and unreal

the humanist and the quietist
miraculously survived
but their philosophical views
were now very much deprived

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024

bosom garden

i hid a frosted rosehip in my jacket pocket
and dreamt one day it would bloom on my chest
warmed through from its roots around my heart

and i dreamt i would walk for days
and i dreamt i would show them all
the expansive allure of my love

i would protect its fragile petals from the chill
of unkind eyes and the grasp of repressive hands
warmed instead from the light of open hearts

and i dreamt i would walk for gays
and i dreamt i would show het al
the expansive allure of love

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024