Tag Archives: Poetry

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Since Then by Madison Julius Cawein

I found myself among the trees
What time the reapers ceased to reap;
And in the sunflower-blooms the bees
Huddled brown heads and went to sleep,
Rocked by the balsam-breathing breeze.
I saw the red fox leave his lair,
A shaggy shadow, on the knoll;
And tunneling his thoroughfare
Beneath the soil, I watched the mole
Stealth’s own self could not take more care.
I heard the death-moth tick and stir,
Slow-honeycombing through the bark;
I heard the cricket’s drowsy chirr,
And one lone beetle burr the dark
The sleeping woodland seemed to purr.
And then the moon rose: and one white
Low bough of blossoms grown almost
Where, ere you died, ’twas our delight
To meet, dear heart! I thought your ghost…
The wood is haunted since that night.

by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN (1865-1914)
Public Domain Poetry

for sanity’s sake

here between the seasons
the drought & hoped for rains
how on earth we prevail is
a puzzle for analytical minds
we try one smile on at a time

one smile at a time
to keep that sultry darkness at bay
one smile at a time
but perhaps today is not that day
mayhap i wish to sluttily lay
in disarray like i belong
& die erelong

but life goes on
while i whore myself to ruination
& smile along with the twee
their cock-a-hoop clarity in
hopes that we might cohabitate
in peace between drought & rain

& life goes on
one smile at a time

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

how about love

are you the right hand of god
are you the hand left in darkness
well, never you mind, boy
be a man & do no harm
lay down your arms, boy
lay down your arms

bear your holly crown, boy
bear it with compassion for
your turn in the sun is nearly over
& soon i hope you’ll understand
that lust for legacy’s absurd
death & glory are just words

never you mind your pretty head
you could be dancing in the rain
just lay down your arms, boy
be a man & do no harm
lay down your arms

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025

novitiate

a girl sits above the river
her hair golden in the sun
eyes silver beneath the moon

coins scatter to the shallows
more wishes for rippling stars
& water striders in the gloom

her song flows with milk & honey
something about faraway lands
blest by radiant summers thrice

is myrtle the plant or her name
is she fertility’s virgin maid
or is she a mere whore for christ

who will know, let’s leave her alone
let her sit above the river
singing her inscrutable song

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Critic And Poet. by Emma Lazarus

An Apologue.

(“Poetry must be simple, sensuous, or impassioned; this man is neither simple, sensuous, nor impassioned; therefore he is not a poet.”)

No man had ever heard a nightingale,
When once a keen-eyed naturalist was stirred
To study and define – what is a bird,
To classify by rote and book, nor fail
To mark its structure and to note the scale
Whereon its song might possibly be heard.
Thus far, no farther; – so he spake the word.
When of a sudden, – hark, the nightingale!

Oh deeper, higher than he could divine
That all-unearthly, untaught strain! He saw
The plain, brown warbler, unabashed. “Not mine”
(He cried) “the error of this fatal flaw.
No bird is this, it soars beyond my line,
Were it a bird, ‘t would answer to my law.”

by EMMA LAZARUS (1849-1887)
Public Domain Poetry