8 march 2020
In Search Of Tremors
Night comes like a
black dog
around the corner.
I start paying off the debt
cry for cry, with a
ceremonial sword,
cutting off the shadows
falling from the
distant hills.
My questions are burning―
on pyre. How did I fail myself?
Why some mercy
was unacceptable to me?
Standing in midstream
I let go your hand,
and drown in quick sand of thoughts.
Now a poem will
lift me from the ruins.
14 december 2025
wiesiek
14 december 2025
jeśli tylko
13 december 2025
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12 december 2025
wiesiek
12 december 2025
Eva T.
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10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele
10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele
10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele
10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele