22 june 2012
SUNFLOWERS
A preacher was shedding
dirty tears
for burning hills.
Pinned up on tongue
was a slogan.
Death for all sunflowers.
Draped in blood
who was trespassing
the sickle moon?
I cannot raise the mist
where you stand naked
in sunlight.
Somebody has killed
the pathological god.
I am starting a new kitchen.
Satish Verma
25 april 2024
2504wiesiek
25 april 2024
QuartzSatish Verma
24 april 2024
The End StartsSatish Verma
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek
21 april 2024
Picking RelicsSatish Verma
20 april 2024
To Dying MuseSatish Verma
19 april 2024
The VoyagerSatish Verma