24 july 2012
ADDING TO WOES
Again I would hear the night sounds
through the hours of civilities
when there was a pause in the body
untouchable.
You were sleeping with counterfeits,
running down the golden dome
sailing over the silken clouds.
My rough palm was still holding the pen.
That mirage, that fire on the road
had cheated us. You had pushed me in an
aging portrait. Alive, I am looking at you
from an empty glass.
Satish Verma
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
2204wiesiek
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
18 april 2024
ItinerantSatish Verma
17 april 2024
Nim kur zapiejeJaga