11 december 2020
Scars
There was obsession, to wash your
hands again and again.
They swing wildly.
The moods.
Betel leaves, and bad grammar.
Charity untainted.
Divided walls.
A street breaks the steps.
Nails scratching the rosary.
The stranded words,
will not sit on the wide screen.
The damp soil becomes dark.
No gift was needed-
unmaking the wasp's nest.
I bend down to light the lamp.
23 january 2026
wiesiek
23 january 2026
Jaga
22 january 2026
wiesiek
21 january 2026
wiesiek
20 january 2026
Jaga
20 january 2026
wiesiek
19 january 2026
Jaga
18 january 2026
Jaga
17 january 2026
wiesiek
16 january 2026
wiesiek