3 stycznia 2016
Holding The Poems
The moon scrambles on
the fragrance of the trees
I think of humility & grace.
think of the secret of death,
honey of life and survive
by holding the poems.
I will ask myself
not to invent the echo of tomorrow.
In my aloneness
I watch the dancing of words,
the white tract of thoughts
without thinking. There are
no holes in heart, still the
numbers build the nest.
The abstract arguments of depression.
Lull before the explosive creation.
Movement of grief
is footfall in dark night.
We always blamed the self image
without perfecting our contents.
Liberating self from
bare hands was the theme.
We could bring the screaming moon
to rest upon our souls.
5 maja 2024
0505wiesiek
5 maja 2024
Jasność enigmatycznaArsis
5 maja 2024
N2absynt
4 maja 2024
N1absynt
4 maja 2024
Izerska rzekakalik
4 maja 2024
0405wiesiek
4 maja 2024
WładcyMarek Gajowniczek
4 maja 2024
WartośćMarcin Olszewski
3 maja 2024
M1absynt
3 maja 2024
można możnasam53