21 september 2017
Paused
Exfoliated, I come to you,
to scratch the blighted
palace of the body, where
a god lived once.
Dervish, when did you stop
whirling? The tomb is gone,
the shroud tattered. I am
collecting the withered roses.
It rips open, the black fruit
showing the bleeding stone.
How did I believe, the tiniest
particle will create the universe.
The tree was felled scattering
the seeds. An unsure hand,
pulls on the leash and sets
the entrapped animal free.
1 february 2026
wiesiek
30 january 2026
Jaga
23 january 2026
Jaga
20 january 2026
Jaga
19 january 2026
Jaga
18 january 2026
Jaga
11 january 2026
Jaga
4 january 2026
Jaga
31 december 2025
wiesiek
30 december 2025
Jaga