28 july 2013
FLAMES OF SONG
Tonight moon will write a poem
on my hand
about an almond love.
I find a breeze.
Nightmare: I was caught stealing words
from your lips, a lark
flies into death, paralyzed
by peace!
I will have the baby, I cried
at the insult to a rape
of truth, after the brawl
Pyramid was not made in a day.
Who slept in the arms of ambers?
Look, it was an atomic illusion of a guilt
of centuries. Time walks with bowed head
like a blind man.
Baked brown in heat of wars like
a salted pistachio, perched high on dry
grass, a swallow watches the rising
lake with no stones floating.
Satish Verma
25 december 2025
wiesiek
24 december 2025
wiesiek
23 december 2025
wiesiek
22 december 2025
Eva T.
20 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele
19 december 2025
wiesiek
19 december 2025
Jaga
19 december 2025
steve
19 december 2025
steve
15 december 2025
Jaga