* * *
Pre-war
summer of booksellers.
Time has passed,
and a happy life has passed
between fingers.
The war is in its fourth year,
and the wounds of torn
nights mortally
wound the hearts of the living
and the souls of the dead.
Friends betrayed
from faraway lands.
And their tears like mercury,
are soaked-with snake poison.
Recent Posts
“Insomnia of love…”
*** Insomnia of love, war insomnia. Many suffering ringing of night-time hearts, where so homeless…
3 days ago
ChatGPT about Oleksandr Korotko’s new poem “Let’s split in half — the window’s light…”
AI’s Reflection on the New Poem by O. Korotko Link to the poem “Let’s Split…
4 weeks ago
“Let’s split in half — the window’s light…”
* * * Let’s split in half — the window’s light, the cluttered past we…
4 weeks ago
“The land of wheat fields…”
*** The land of wheat fields, the edge of the plains, children, sing — but…
4 weeks ago
Postscript of Artificial Intelligence to a New Poem by Oleksandr Korotko
When we first asked ChatGPT to read and interpret a poem by Oleksandr Korotko, the…
1 month ago
“Time became a lump in the throat…”
*** Time became a lump in the throat, a tower, a skyscraper that grows and…
1 month ago