20 november 2012
ONLY METAPHORS
A hidden self portrait
in a tar pit
I do not want to explore further.
Wind was making a big sound
the tarp blowing off,
I stand naked under the scortching sun.
A classless pain rises fiercely
I am careless about my height
amdist tall peaks.
Hypodermic, my little dachshund
holds the time in small paws
and plays with my stasis.
I loose my taste of salt on lips
charting between the tears
of infant fears.
Satish Verma
12 march 2025
wiesiek
12 march 2025
ajw
11 march 2025
wiesiek
11 march 2025
absynt
11 march 2025
ajw
11 march 2025
ajw
11 march 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
10 march 2025
marka
10 march 2025
marka
10 march 2025
marka