2 december 2012
IN MAKING
Spurred the kerosene
to burn the logistics.
I had moved on untrodden snow
of tanned gifts.
There was no tomorrow for me,
living from moment to moment.
The warships
had moved into positions.
Adoring the monotheisn, I still
loved many angels, you were
making many moons for me.
Breathless I was running after gold rings.
Terrible, the bell breaks my ankle
and the anklets emit the trembling
moons. Let us go out on the lake
I have many scores to settle.
Satish Verma
4 november 2025
Jaga
3 november 2025
wiesiek
2 november 2025
absynt
2 november 2025
wiesiek
2 november 2025
ajw
1 november 2025
wiesiek
31 october 2025
Jaga
22 october 2025
Jaga
21 october 2025
Jaga
20 october 2025
ajw