3 czerwca 2017
Scything
Why did your hand
become the fist?
You were thinking about the indignities
heaped upon the lake,
when you were retrieving a song
of freedom from the depth of questions.
There was no capitulation.
You went on opening the congealed-
blobs of blood to know
the keynote of violence.
The sectarian hate.
It outlives the love of brotherhood.
You want to go back to, from where
the jungle starts. It had swept
away the snow-white young
peaks.
Footprints of some movement.
Can you see that?
19 marca 2026
sam53
19 marca 2026
wiesiek
18 marca 2026
wiesiek
18 marca 2026
violetta
17 marca 2026
wiesiek
17 marca 2026
sam53
16 marca 2026
Jaga
16 marca 2026
wiesiek
16 marca 2026
Jaga
15 marca 2026
wiesiek