15 june 2019
No Saviour
Out of ambit― you resume
the surfing again― on
yellow tulips―
in misting valley.
One who will not bless
the seed― will sit
in shadow of hunger.
Do not touch the―
impossible blue of the
eyes, unhunted by the tears.
Snare or be snared. If
there was a flint and
the steel― do you think the
spark will be faraway?
In silent night, I will open
the crypt to have a look again―
at the wornout cloak of a paragon.
31 march 2026
wiesiek
30 march 2026
wiesiek
30 march 2026
absynt
29 march 2026
wiesiek
29 march 2026
absynt
29 march 2026
absynt
28 march 2026
absynt
27 march 2026
wiesiek
25 march 2026
wiesiek
24 march 2026
marka