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

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

Haiku King & Tan’ka Queen (Tanka) ~ The ∞ ‘21 Shades of Blue’ collaboration

Broken, unspoken
not mending round the bending
over backwards turns…

I close my self-harmed blind eyes.
It’s my way to feel alive.

I stared at you, too
with the other lights in my
starry-eyed skyline…

My carmine, acid-burned tips
are thrilled to death to touch you.

But they’d stop me cold,
I tremble imagining
true human contact…
Long-distance indifference
is all I’m familiar with.

I over-fatigue
myself with affined-distance
contacts. A cold space
makes me warm. I feel a blade
which tickles my blepharons.

Vulnerable codes
of casual ciphers, cracked
Flirts, being known hurts…

Now I’ve heard a fucking chord…
Hallelujah… hell, I hack!

Lady Scissorhands,
with paper white skin, I know.
I’m Inside-out Man….

Blunt edges give much more fun
with unpicking blue and red.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015

Ancestor’s Pages ~ The ∞ ‘21 Shades of Blue’ collaboration

This book smells so redolent,
though the pages feel decayed.
It’s cover seems insolent,
frayed bromide paper displayed.

All, what I craved, lies inside
like a spurned lover in print
who was inked and crucified
by glossing over missed hints.

My trembling fingers caress
the words I cannot escape.
The vowels slowly undress
wound’s consonants, healing, named…

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015

Hocus-Pocus Lotus Locos 2: Petrarchan Sonnets PART 3 ~ The ‘Down The Rabbit Hole’ collaboration

< < < Back to seeds and roots

< < < Previous Scabrousness

“Angels fly as fools die! Aiiii!” she bellowed as her clothes caught hold
on a stick in the mud, sticking out a hole in the wall, breaking her fall.
“I order you pull me off from fucking hook!” came her command while
face to hat, hanging upside-down by undergarments — “Why petticoat
princess? No, I love your unholy pantalooned look!” the Bastard spoke.
“Mat’ tvoyu za nogu! (Grab your mother at her leg!) V rot tebe parokhod!
(Shove a steamboat into your mouth!)” and the Slavic for “You’re a bald-
coot slimeball!” (Ty pleshivyy urod!) the Black-Crowned Yew-Crane crowed.

Bastion’s confused expression, and crooked hat, however, quickly caused
Petra to lose her shit, and laugh her ass off, before saying, “Baiyan cat,
you can eat Petra” which confused the poor bastard more, so he coughed
awkwardly, thinking she meant her pussy, which oddly enough, she did as
her predicament was briefly forgotten, but still furious, regained her cross
posture, and let fly the beautiful curses, hushing Bastion’s ballsy sarcasm.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015