Tag Archives: Tetiana Aleksina

Blame it on the Rainbow

You’re out for
a walk every day
buttoned from
throat to knees
the hood pulled over your head
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath

You’re untouched
by the Sun and rains
You’re sheltered
You’re secure
Nothing can hurt your soft pith
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath

But one day
one beautiful day
a strange rain
flecked your coat
You didn’t care, you were careless
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath

You got home
You hung your wet coat
on a hook
and you missed
shimmering rainbow spatters
on your heavy sheath

Next morning
you put on your coat
buttoned from
throat to knees
and went out into the street
Man-in-Heavy-Sheath

A few steps…
and… what the devil?
You felt how
the Sun heats
your back… Something strange happened
with your heavy sheath

You’re so scared
You run to your home
You should clean
You should wash
You can’t let the Sun disturb
your soft pith again

You can’t sleep
You have a nightmare
how you walk
stark naked
and the most horrible thing
that you feel happy

Next morning
you put on your coat
buttoned from
throat to knees
Oh, poor Man-in-Heavy-Sheath…
can’t you believe? Still?

Day-by-day
you pace the small room
Night-by-night
you don’t sleep
You must forget this feeling
You must recall it

You’re drained by
fright and exhaustion
You’re ready
to end this
You run through an open door
like a suicide

You come round
naked on the road
You feel how
the Sun strokes…
and the most horrible thing…
Hey! Say it out loud!

…I sit here
happy and guilty
Should I say
“I’m sorry”
for spattering you with love,
Man-lost-Heavy-Sheath?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

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

Toleration

A butterfly dies
with wings putting together
Palms of a prayer
Confession and repentance
of a happy careless life

An ant who devours
death and flesh, feelers and legs
never touches wings
never cuts off a prayer
It’s the greatest blasphemy

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

a Walkover

Poetry can touch
only milk-and-water girls! –
Would you bet on it?

Hey, sure thing! – OK…
Can you give me a crayon,
moron? – What?! – I won!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015

The Blog Tour Award. The four winds. Part 1 – Boreas

You and me
take three simple words
Sun-Moon-Sky
You and me
start to compose a haiku
Just Five-Seven-Five

You and me
aren’t original
Look – ‘The Sun
shines brightly
The Moon shimmers tenderly
in the boundless Sky’

You and me
juxtapose haikus
We’re amazed
It’s the same
as we spot the difference
between fingerprints

Your Sun warms
My Sun burns, ground out
Your Moon is
for poets
My Moon is for those who have
Lunaphobia

Your Sky… well,
Skies are similar
A canvas
No, rather
a blank sheet of paper for
our diagnoses

You and me
lay under the blue
where two Suns
where two Moons
hang out in one boundless Sky…
Apples-Oranges

the-blog-tour

Well, guys… It’s the first part of my journey where I have been kicked by one charming Babe. And it looks like I decided to turn to dismemberment. Dammit! Yes, my sweetie, it’s too late to apologize!

How does my work differ from others in my genre? It differs almost as much as my gene combination differs from others.
(see poem above)

And today I deliver the first gold ticket to the north, to Matthew Cauffman aka This Mortal Flesh. Matthew, there are proper rules for you:
(your date is Monday, June 15th)

1) Pass the tour on up to four other bloggers.
2) Give your nominees the rules and a specific Monday to post.
3) Answer four questions about your creative process which lets other bloggers and visitors know what inspires you to do what you do.
– How does my work differ from others in my genre?
– How does my writing/creative process work?
– Why do I write or create what I do?
– What am I working on at the moment?
4) Compose a one-time post on a specific Monday (date given from your nominator).

Unbolt has done her duty. Let him go… well, not for long.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015