Tag Archives: Writing

Alice

Ivory and ebony, rock crystal and brocade,
Her life is sweet and lovely like Dundee marmalade,
Her life is bright and sparkling, a magic fairy tale…
I met her eyes. I saw her truth. A caged nightingale.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

my Path

I’m not rapid and viral.
I go in a slow spiral.
I’m on my path. I keep my poise.
I really hate to make big noise…

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

a Fractal

I am pressing Ctrl+S…

Now my last photo looks slightly gruff, but I wanted something like this. This shot was really good, without unnecessary guff. A hot summer day. An empty dusty road. A ramshackle road sign. A lonely cyclist under the scorching sun.

I am smoking and twisting a leaflet in my hands. I found it near my door this morning.

++++++++++[>+++++++>++++++++++>+++>+<<<<-]>++.>+.+++++++
..+++.>++.<<+++++++++++++++.>.+++.——.——–.>+.>.

Young Rewired Wave – Festival of esoteric and nefarious programming languages, San Antonio Fall 2014

I am pressing pedals…

I refused the car and now I feel like a coot. I am not a glamper. I prefer to use the achievements of civilization. And now I will be more careful with the term “an adjacent town”. And also, I prefer to use cutlery when I eat.

So, when I noticed a small, shabby looking bar I was very glad. By the way, it looked quite picturesque and I made some photos for my diary. The old door was wonky and needed lubricant. But inside the bar was cute. I ordered enchiladas and beer.

I am waiting for my beer and absently reading leaflets on the table.

++++++++++[>+++++++>++++++++++>+++>+<<<<-]>++.>+.+++++++
..+++.>++.<<+++++++++++++++.>.+++.——.——–.>+.>.

Young Rewired Wave – Festival of esoteric and nefarious programming languages, San Antonio Fall 2014 (to be continued)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

Aries

Aries

I’m warlike and hot-tempered Aries.
My horns can kick your tender nates.
But your love can break this dam…
And I turn into a white fluffy lamb.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

GUEST POST // Towers of Canaries by Field of thorns

A room with no window,
a room with no door.
One foot in, one foot out,
both my feet, flat on the floor.

A train of thought running,
each and every day.
I am the prisoner of this tower,
that stands but five foot two.

Currently, I love my captivity,
since the alternative maybe rather bleak.
I pass the days, hour by hour,
like all the other lovely towers.

We are all just a crowd of towers,
like a forest full of trees.
I feel like a canary in a mineshaft,
in this tower that belongs to me.

Upon release from captivity,
my tower will be just am empty cage.
Farewell to my fellow towers,
as I soar and fly away.

by FIELD OF THORNS
© All rights reserved 2014