6 july 2020
Death Was Growing
This was profanity.
A dead club moss resurrects,
when you sprinkle the water over
dried wrinkled leaves.
From darkness to light
you break the bowl of an angel
and the invisible spills out.
Brother in terror -
of mixed turbans.You smell
the burning flesh all around.
Speed of light from superflares
was not colossal, than the blast of man.
Look, it is still dark here..
Now climb the holy
hills, rising like the breasts
of weeping earth, to collect
the daisies for final call.
24 april 2024
The End StartsSatish Verma
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek
21 april 2024
Picking RelicsSatish Verma
20 april 2024
To Dying MuseSatish Verma
19 april 2024
The VoyagerSatish Verma
18 april 2024
ItinerantSatish Verma
17 april 2024
Nim kur zapiejeJaga