21 may 2014
REASONING
There was a portrait under the landscape.
Whispering of clouds,
writhing body and
tense folds.
The sorrows hold out
a veiled threat.
Mortality itself will finish the epic abstraction?
I am not sure, and then the fog rises.
Afraid of flames -
a man was burning alive in inferno,
the red blooms of serial blasts.
A hairy bigfoot runs through the passions.
The fractured faith scatters wild words
like childhood screams.
The very living was night of kills
a freedom in movement of time.
Satish Verma
15 june 2025
wiesiek
14 june 2025
wiesiek
14 june 2025
ajw
13 june 2025
wiesiek
12 june 2025
wiesiek
12 june 2025
Jaga
11 june 2025
wiesiek
10 june 2025
wiesiek
5 june 2025
wiesiek
4 june 2025
wiesiek