chrysalis soul

how could one man
fill so much glorious space
with anything of consequence
i’m just a man

much rather be someone else
and somewhere i do not belong
than here like this
feeling my feet itching again

maybe someday this pain will be useful
maybe someday i’ll wish there was more
when i close my eyes for the last time
on the inhumanity of man

i live in a world of ghosts made of string
where capricious gods are the puppeteers
and i’ll hang myself from this vile paradigm
before it stiffs the ghost in me

i don’t need no special favour
just need to be anywhere but me
don’t need no whistling saviour
to save me from being a man
there’s no scribble to my quaver
just need to be anyone but here
don’t need no whistling saviour
i’m just one man

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

mid death crisis (let him be)

he didn’t walk free on the third day
he preferred to play possum instead
the stone of inevitability
was rolled away, but he chose to stay

in the tomb, he laid to reminisce
but god the father kept making calls
he ignored them and added the contact
to his black list, he was rather pissed!

the needy seek salvation
but who cares for the soul of a saviour?

“stop harassing me, you bearded schmuck!”
he prayed, snug in his burial cloth
“i wanna sleep in, have coffee in bed
not hear your muck! patronising cluck!”

so, he pulled out ‘jenga: day of doom’
blessed the morons who’d banned this comic
buried himself in its yellowed pages
happy on shrooms, human life resumed

the needy seek salvation
but who cares for the soul of a saviour?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018