Tag Archives: Tetiana Aleksina

Lightbringer ~ The one restored collaboration

A collaboration. Two different worlds collide and break. Myriads of shards fly apart. A broken glass… They say it’s good luck. Matt and I gathered the shards carefully. We didn’t hurry. We enjoyed the process. Our collaboration is like a restored stained-glass window. I must admit that the picture that appeared when we finished was a big surprise for both of us.

I want to put one of Matt’s comments here.

“This one had a profound effect on me, my philosophy and beliefs.”

I don’t know what I can add here. Thank you, Matt! Thank you for your courage, for your honesty. Thank you for your talent.

I’m proud of our collaborations.

lucifer_by_caelicorn

Lucifer by Caelicorn

If a world is a house
and people are windows
I am the window which is always dark

Too long I was under your curse
I doted too hard on you
I was doped… near a fatal dose

Upon cold Earth I fell
raptured by the hungry darkness…
as years like days passed

The transparency slowly fled
My glass tempered and stained by rain
scraping my pane like salted tears

I am a black leukoma
on the spotless white face
Inoperable, necrotic cells

I was deplumed to blood by you
I was grilled to ash by you
I was the roasted angel…

But I will know light again
for my descendants are many
on the final stage they have placed me…

Rustle of maracas
and cold black candle-ends
are around me. I take a wax knife

Shamans circle – music peaks
West winds blow relentless
My rite of passage awaits

I fight with bright sunshine
to the last drop of day
I kill it like a mad savage beast

The years are purged now
My ethos born anew
beneath stars of endless night

If a world is a house
and people are windows
I am the window licked clean by hatred

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & THIS MORTAL FLESH
© All rights reserved 2015

The Odd Days & Life of Elatha Jarlath McGhille. Part A. Eanáir ~ The one came in from the cold collaboration

Guys, do you remember Elatha Jarlath McGhille? No? Okay! Don’t sweat it!

The most important thing is that you remember Gregory. His blog, cocktailmolly, supports independent artists, writers, poets… Greg pushes up young talents and does his best for every new voice so that they can be heard. But not many people know that Greg is a brilliant poet himself. Yes, he is! You can believe word. (No? You can’t believe me? You can check cocktailmolly to make sure that I’m not a liar!)

I’m lucky because I enjoy the privilege not only of reading Greg’s stunning works but collaborating with Greg! So, it’s the next part of our saga ‘The Odd Days & Life of Elatha Jarlath McGhille’. Ladies and Gentlemen! Take your plaids and thermoses! Today is pretty chilly…

raaf_home

This story starts where other stories end.
It was just another boring weekend.
Under the black sky and moon glow
Peering from the apartment window
My eyes. Frustrated still waters percolating wonder
At walking chimes seeking permission to ring louder.
Next Christmas passed by like a commuter train
and Santa ignored my letters again.
I write on the frozen glass ‘Nevermore’…
It’s nearly dawning. The chimes struck four.
Causing a celebration for equanimity.
A new year and no one hears me.
Within itself exploding volcanoes that will force more to grow.
To ring louder & louder as a thunderous burst causes a show.
That fire in the sky is our voices.
Debating the ideas running from sheep & the mischief of Corvus.
Will timelessness stretch out to the crack of doom?
My stagnant mind returns to my airless room.
Old musty wallpapers with whitish spots
from removed portraits… it makes no odds.
I never loved their histrionic look…
I look up at the ceiling with an empty hook.
That is used to grab hold
At the edge of an opening crack shaded gold
Stretched until it’s a spinning hole.
Full of cosmic colors. My dreaming’s out of control,
As the cosmic color filling oozes onto my bed
Taking shapes like the human body, lying next to me, it said
Something about splashes of inspirational kisses,
Sunshine smiles and enlightened darkness going for miles.

…the sky removes a black dress with starry cufflinks
and wraps itself in a pink peignoir… My egregore winks.
“Elatha, we waited a long time for you. Let’s go!
It’s time to meet with your replicas and talk to your echo.
It’s time to learn who you are and what your real telos is…
Well… are you ready to stop your watches?”
Stop. Everything stops.
His story revealed. A soulful blues.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & GREGORY WAITS JR.
© All rights reserved 2015

Day 01

Damn! Quotes are such a tricky thing. Especially ones without a context. I’m always very careful with quotations. Yes, I see a question in your eyes. “Why is she whining here?” It’s easy.

I was recently invited by my friends to take part in the ‘03 days 03 quotes challenge’ party and I said, “YAY! Thank you! Of course, you can count on me!”

Prakash Hegade, Sheldon Kleeman, Ethel Beckett! 
Thank you, my dear friends!

Rules:
1) Post 1 quotation a day for 3 days.
2) Nominate 3 other bloggers to participate per post.
3) Thank the blogger who nominated you.

But when I started to write my first post for this challenge I realized the scale of my problem. I’ve since changed my mind three times before opening my rough draft dated June 27 to write these lines.

Of course, it’s not a big deal to find some cool quotes from some cool famous guys and be happy with my own coolness. I even spent about an hour searching for them. But then I suddenly understood that hiding behind other people’s famous words isn’t something that I consider a really cool thing. That was my first thought.

My second thought was to use my own quotes from my various essays and poems. It’s not very modest but at least I could always take responsibility for this bullshit. I’m glad that I didn’t start to do this because I liked my third thought much more…

I don’t want to use famous quotes. I don’t want to use my quotes. My friends! My community! My dearest Writers and Readers! Let me use your quotes!

I was nominated three times, so I will take three quotes and their authors will be my nominees. All agree? Excellent! Let’s go!

Grandpa asked why
I talked to his veggies
said I didn’t know
Didn’t know
how to say
Veggies don’t hurt me

Michael Spahr, ‘Grandpa Had A Garden’

One day,
when it’s time for me to go,
I won’t cry.
I will look back on all these days I got to spend,
and I will smile.
I’ll be glad that I’ve had the chance,
to be alive,
and all in all,
that I’ve lived
a pretty good life.

PROSPERMIND, ‘A pretty good life’

Writers write for they are egomaniacs,
A fancy poem our soul’s aphrodisiac.
Spinning words, the most heinous temptation,
Desperation for eternity our only salvation.

Obsidian Visionary, ‘Writer’s Dissolution’

Hmmm… Yes!
The end.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

Blooming

for my Purple Creature

Please, please, don’t think that
butterflies are silly with
a short memory

Please, please, don’t think that
they sit on this withered bush
without a purpose

No… They remember
its beauty. They remember
all colors and forms

How it bloomed before
a thunder-bolt that summer
Yes, they remember

They sit the same day
every year… it’s a present
The birthday present
The present from butterflies
for their depressed withered friend

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

My cheerful face seems very bleak ~ The one very bright collaboration

Well… According to Wiio’s laws every next word in this headnote increases the risk of misinterpretation of what I tried to say. Let me be terse. Let me present my new collaboration and my new fantastic partner.

Will Tigs, thank you! You gave me some really important lessons…
(Oh…. And now I will stop blabbing! Wiio’s laws are upon us!)

_____________________________

yellow-face-female-face-1921

Yellow face (Female face), 1921. Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin

My cheerful face seems very bleak
and the hopes I have are hollow.
My mouth is dry and unable to speak.
I live my life in sorrow.

My instincts seem so synchronized,
yet my genitals are sterile.
My eyes are weak and hypnotized,
I spend my days in peril.

My death is near. I have gangrene.
Pray for me, you happy fools!
On you alone I vent my spleen,
Don’t play with edged tools.

My memoirs I now will edit
to spread my story far and wide.
To devil I give all the credit.
He is my savior and my guide.

Though I live my life in sorrow
and my days are spent in peril,
I still wish to see tomorrow
and to do more good than ill.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & WILL TIGS
© All rights reserved 2015