Saudade ~ The one terminally ill collaboration

unbolt
I dream of you and wake up with a jolt…
My body gleams over two hundred volts…
And though I pray each lonely night for not to soil it…
It means I’ve used my electric blanket as a toilet…

unbolt says:
Oh… a poor dirty blanket… Does it mean that I’m your worst nightmare?

raycabiro says:
Ohh, it’s just unfortunate that your name rhymes with volt so I had no choice but to make it about weeing on an electric blanket… Maybe next time I could think of something a bit more savoury, maybe about a colt that moults.

WOW! Such a lovely tribute for a girl… Weeing on an electric blanket and mangy colts. I can bet you’re full of envy now, aren’t you? Yes, guys, I had no choice. Our collaboration was inevitable – like an annual moult. Thank you, Ramon! I adore you… You’re completely awesome!

Oh… last but not least! My special thanks to ARTISH for giving me permission to use her drawings. Thank you very much, Tish!

She always sits alone at the corner table
And smokes cheap cigarettes with a yellow label
She clicks idly on an email attachment
That tells a short story of a sexual harassment
The stale smoke lingers with a sense of unease
The same sense she’s got of her venereal disease

She’s the last vestal of this perverted Parthenon
She scrolls her friend list… the damned deceitful pantheon
Each face hides a secret of a sordid infection
The virus that’s inside her is the germ of affection
The memories all linger but her future self fades
She never even loved him, now she’s probably got AIDS

She’s just a Petri dish with a collection of human filth
Her verminous spongy womb is like the land is in good tilth
She’s riddled with the maladies that murder and smother
Her only hope was that the viruses would kill one another
But the one thing they left out from her medical flow chart
Was the worst disease of all, how he was breaking her heart

A screensaver fades… a carefree laughing girl at a tender age…
She stubs out a cigarette and goes slowly to the tiny stage
Each face in the crowd tells a story of shame
Where once they burned her records now they’re singing her name
Her introduction music starts to vibrate the stylus
And with their love in her heart, she’ll beat this sex virus

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RAYCABIRO
© All rights reserved 2015

Blood Cherry ~ The one sharp-toothed collaboration

Crumble Cult ∼ Tony Single ∼  Once More, With Foreboding

Well… do you think it’s three different persons? Uh-uh… nope!
It’s only one person. The single person. The amazing, talented and great person… OK! I guess it’s dawned upon you who it is.

(Should I stop praising you, Tony?)

I’m happy to show you my next collaboration with TONY SINGLE.

But now… let’s stop shooting the breeze! Please, shaken, not stirred! Aww… sweet and salty… yummy. I do love this one.

Вензельagain she isn’t there, but what can you expect?
the mirror peers through her to curtains drawn and rumpled sheets
she’s accepted her fate, the wrong way was trekked
silk and lace, now what can she be hiding between flounces and pleats?

stake her if you can boy, slay her quick
afore she gets to you, makes your neck to snap
crick snap crick snap

her dead china skin’s oft stroked by eld and lust’s pluck
those mounds of lust and venus with their discreet teeth marks
a guide of cigarette burns over which she howls amok
perhaps it isn’t true pain, just phantom extremity abraded birthmarks

flake her if you can boy, flay her quick
afore she gets to you, makes your neck to snap
crick snap crick snap

sweet and salty, young and old, she tries not to flirt with her food!
her mother was wise but no garden is without its weeds
who has defined the line between decent and lewd
when it comes to primordial instincts and physical needs?

take her if you can boy, lay her quick
afore she gets to you, makes your neck to snap
crick snap crick snap

so an aspen corset keeps her temper double lapped
it protects her from stiff sunshine and its destructive caress
while throughout cobalt veins, desire’s reach is fair trapped
it sure isn’t easy being an amorous vampiress

Вензель_нижний

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© 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

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

< < < Back to seeds and roots

< < < Previous Scabrousness

Next Scabrousness > > >

Petra inquired “Anyone home?”, and in getting his “All’s well in this well”
in reply, she asked “What you do?”, received a sly “Well, well manager”
and yelled “Well, well, well! How rude! Are you token rodent that purrs?”
“Drop dead, my friend” he mumbled under his breath, and said, “Hell,
I guess, princess. See all the sixpence?” She sputtered, “Demon spell
make you toke too much! How ass hat know Petra Princess? Know her?”
“All princesses are no more than a purse! If you lead a horse to water,
you can’t make ’em drink!” — “You the whore who needs help, infidel!”

“I’m the virgin bastard of Cheshire! I have heard of you! The Empusa
with the flaming ash-blonde locks!” he spoke, and she, flattered, said,
“You have sexy dirty Medusa hair too, so Petra not stone you! Umm…”
and petrified, Bastion heard “Sacred Loti, for the girly boy!” with dread
as she returned tumbling head o’er heels o’er the edge like a lush-klutz
hush-hush lust-drunk — Because fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015

Hocus-Pocus Lotus Locos 2: Petrarchan Sonnets PART 1 ~ The ‘Down The Rabbit Hole’ collaboration

< < < Back to seeds and roots

< < < Previous Scabrousness

Next Scabrousness > > >

Italian-adopted Princess of Florence,
Petra the Opera Prima Donna Slavic,
a feline-fearing alluring Ailurophobic
soon passed Cheshire’s abhorrence,
and with whims of a fetish sixth-sense
for hatted men, wished to fish and fix
the Tomcat from the well, blowing dick
of the puss in boots deep in sixpence.

When she tilted her face down the well at sunrise,
dawn’s disc lit her ash-blonde hair up, like a halo
and the feathered musketeer-hat man, surprised,
felt aggrandized by the Angel, whose cheeks glowed
at the fallen Seraph as well, who though circumcised,
obviously had personal demons he needed to let go.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2015