the singer

IMG_7137cw.jpg

My Poetic Blog

The Door

everything is strange.

everything that surrounds me resembles paintings stitched together by an artist of coincidence, who drunk too much wine, while sitting by a river for one summer evening.

Read More
Lucie Szabova
My Mother Sees Ghosts

Lonesomeness is a dark forest on a white field of mute birds. All transforms into mist. It is a miraculous forest. 

There is no hiding place, when one is hidden in themselves.

Read More
Lucie Szabova
Summer melting point

it is summer. anonymous windows are looking to my space, my room, through a broad opened window. observing it with acrimony. During the non appearing night. De Facto.

Read More
Lucie Szabova