19 september 2012
WHISPERING SPARROWS
The native walls
were hounding me-
out of game.
I was playing chess with god.
Was stoned to death.
A small boy’s arm
was crushed.
He stole a bread.
What was the truism
of unheard voices?
Groping in green darkness
I was watching
the lethal plunge of man.
Satish Verma
16 december 2025
wiesiek
15 december 2025
wiesiek
15 december 2025
Jaga
14 december 2025
wiesiek
14 december 2025
jeśli tylko
13 december 2025
wiesiek
12 december 2025
wiesiek
12 december 2025
Eva T.
11 december 2025
wiesiek
10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele