25 lipca 2013
A CENTRIOLUM
Never in those sizzling conflicts
displaying the pink eyes
you were able to reach me.
Was it metagenesis,
forgetting your selfhood?
Fragments of a beast were floating on sea.
Was umblicus of death broken
in the crotch of a mother?
Lay the corn again on my palm
to smoulder in the heat of sun.
Hunger will take revenge now.
Burn, burn my truth, burn!
I was the creator,
and I was destroyer
at the helm of unbuttoning coal.
It was a black, black sky,
where the stars were hesitant to show their
centrioles.
After the sun rises in a black dawn
there will be no shocks.
Satish Verma
13 marca 2026
wiesiek
13 marca 2026
sam53
12 marca 2026
wiesiek
12 marca 2026
Weronika
12 marca 2026
sam53
11 marca 2026
Jaga
11 marca 2026
Jaga
11 marca 2026
wiesiek
11 marca 2026
Atanazy Pernat
11 marca 2026
Atanazy Pernat