11 december 2014
BROODING
Me and my pride,
me and my hurts.
Who are you, which you are not,
a verbless statement of nirvana?
No pain
no asking, narcissism.
A stream of unbecoming.
Eyes wide open
jaws tightly shut,
sitting in a corner, brooding,
brooding.
Now what?
A stunning duplicity,
a surrogate god
was running an empire.
Precisely polygamous
on the name of a latter saint
annihilating the third image.
The future demands its past,
its mode of becoming endosperm
in a sleeping leaf.
26 august 2025
wiesiek
25 august 2025
wiesiek
24 august 2025
wiesiek
24 august 2025
absynt
24 august 2025
absynt
23 august 2025
wiesiek
18 august 2025
Jaga
16 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
absynt