so glad my world is crumbling
‘cos i really want to start again
i won’t try to hold the pieces
and rebuild the walls in vain
things can never be right again
but i can weave a flaxen path
i won’t pack my travelling bag
with either despair or wrath
i’ll thaw my hands o’er new hearth
’til i emanate a renewed hope
i won’t let them claw me into
their inhuman brutal death lope
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
carabineer cut down
on this track by a
carbine to the head
a righteous future
totally gone now
or maybe a villain
we will never know
nor do we wish to know
the lessons of history
caterpillar flattened
on this track by a
caterpillar tread
a butterfly future
totally gone now
or maybe a moth
we will never know
nor do we wish to know
the lessons of nature
nuclear family
on this track by a
nuke reduced to atoms
any future
totally gone now
anything at all
we will never know
nor do we wish to know
the lessons of humanity
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
& the hooded skies emptied
o’er another fallen star
it was only love undeclared
it was only consciousness after all
growing up was unavoidable
& i was taught to be unlovely
but not them
they could not have shone brighter
had they been allowed
& a hidden christ could have shown itself
how long had i been walking here
turning white noise into useless words
for all the things that could ne’er be said
for all the eyes i saw that were dead
sleepwalking down paladin lane
where even the hobos had their song
& harmonicas to play it on
just heavenly bodies now
tainted by god’s grey earth
i’d ne’er shine so bright as they
i’d ne’er fall so fine as they
where were you, hidden christ
to save us, misery, one & all
when we found no place at the table
when another epistle went unpenned
when grief was failure to participate
when i lost myself again
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
Do trees cry when you chop them?
Do trees cry when you cut them down?
Do they feel the pain when the axe falls?
Do they bleed when you put a blade through their bark?
I wonder what happens to their roots?
I wonder how they feel when uprooted?
Do they weep when they are gutted?
Are their screams and cries for help lost in the burning pain
when fires light up their unheard screams
Like an unseen bloodstain
by YASSY
© All rights reserved 2024
Literary classics aren’t always created by the greying elder statesmen and women of the writing world. You know the ones. They’re all wise and wrinkly and impassive, and woe betide the scholar who dares mount an honest critique of their bodies of work.
You see, literary classics are also written by upstart youngsters. These youngsters are full of vitality and creativity. They live fully awake and fully aware during these very difficult times. Nothing escapes their notice and they’re unafraid to share what they really think. They walk among us right now, breathing, smiling and crying, loving and hating, experiencing the full range of their humanity without apology.
This series presents names that you won’t find in textbooks or on Wikipedia, but these are the very youngsters who are creating modern Ukrainian literature right now. Trust us, you will want to check them out because it’s only a matter of time before they become household names. When we go back to these writers in two hundred years, we have no doubt that they’ll be mentioned in the same breath as luminaries such as Taras Shevchenko and Lesya Ukrainka.
/Kateryna: girding the world/
i taped up the windows with scotch tape
so
when it explodes
the carpet won’t be sown with
glass debris
’cause suddenly they will sprout
i taped up the fish tank with scotch tape
so
when it explodes
it won’t leak
the shadows of sunk fish
i taped up the mirror with scotch tape
so
when it explodes
i will still be able to see
in my home
myself
i taped up a frame with scotch tape
but
with the black one
and only one corner of the photo
the only thing
for which the scotch tape ran out
it’s me
so, i stand broken
with my forehead cracked up
and space goes through me
like through a smashed windowpane
/Катерина: підперезування світу/
я заклеїла вікна скотчем
аби
коли вибухне
килим не всіяло
уламками скла
бо раптом ще проростуть
я заклеїла акваріум скотчем
аби
коли вибухне
звідти не витекли
тіні потоплених риб
я заклеїла дзеркало скотчем
аби
коли вибухне
я ще змогла побачити
у себе вдома
себе
я заклеїла рамку скотчем
але
чорним
і тільки в куті фотографії
єдине
на що забракло скотча
це я
тож стою розбита
з потрісканим чолом
і простір проходить крізь мене
ніби крізь вибиту шибку
Original poem by ILLIA RUDIJKO
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024
unbolt me 