21 listopada 2012
ABSURD FLIGHT
Rain of victims.
Crossing a parched field
a summer moon was laughing
like a naked lie.
I intend to lie in state,
no grass was going to cry.
A red spot was growing
on your chest.
Were you shot in heart?
Creeping, they want to put the sandal paste
on the dome.
I walk waist-high between
the kneeling heads.
Who were the inmates of the
black house,
which was so sexy?
I do not mean anything, over the head
a kite was flying.
Satish Verma
23 sierpnia 2025
sam53
23 sierpnia 2025
dobrosław77
23 sierpnia 2025
violetta
22 sierpnia 2025
ais
22 sierpnia 2025
smokjerzy
22 sierpnia 2025
sam53
21 sierpnia 2025
Yaro
20 sierpnia 2025
jesienna70
20 sierpnia 2025
smokjerzy
20 sierpnia 2025
Bezka