Milan Pokora

Time machine

“Weariness Whispering Into the Void” The face sinks into the hand, as if trying to hide from a light that stopped being merciful long ago. Wrinkles break like ancient runes, each one carrying a story better left forgotten. The edges of reality fray, unraveling into a cold static that slowly consumes even the last unbroken piece of the self. And yet — in that quiet collapse, in that moment between breath and darkness — a spark remains, refusing to fade, even though it no longer has anyone left to shine for.

“Weariness Whispering Into the Void”

The face sinks into the hand,
as if trying to hide from a light
that stopped being merciful long ago.

Wrinkles break like ancient runes,
each one carrying a story
better left forgotten.

The edges of reality fray,
...ALT

Thank you😉

Music art

“The Last Rhythm of the City”🖤 I walk down a street that has already forgotten people. The rain washes away the colors, the buildings collapse into their own shadows and the birds circle low, as if searching for what is left of us. In my hand I hold the circle of the world that no longer plays. The vinyl is cold, but in its grooves is the imprint of a time, when the city had a pulse. My body disintegrates in the noise, as if the atmosphere itself were consuming me, and yet I keep going — not because I believe, but because the sound of the last rhythm is stronger than the silence of the end. And the birds? They know their own business. They fly on, over the city that is saying goodbye to itself.

“The Last Rhythm of the City”🖤

I walk down a street that has already forgotten people.
The rain washes away the colors,
the buildings collapse into their own shadows
and the birds circle low,
as if searching for what is left of us.

...Alt

“When the world screams too loud” When the world screams too loud, the head dives beneath the surface of darkness, just to temporarily not hear all the cracks in reality. Clouds roll in like news, each heavier than the last, and one emerges only for a moment, to catch one’s breath between two storms. And yet—somewhere above it all— light breaks through the noise, quiet, unostentatious, a reminder that even noise has its edge.

When the world screams too lou

When the world screams too loud,
the head dives beneath the surface of darkness,
just to temporarily not hear
all the cracks in reality.

Clouds roll in like news,
each heavier than the last,
and one emerges only for a moment,
to catch one’s breath between two storms.

“Between the equation and the light”

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“A Flash Between Worlds”

My little angel.

Last race

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Sunflower

Isaac Newton

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Archimedes

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Crazy Monday.🫨

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"Feast of Emptiness"
The table stretches into the light,
the plates are silent, the chairs wait.
The earth cracks under the weight of sweets,
which no one wants to eat.
Above all — a ray,
perhaps regret, perhaps judgment.

"A River Between Worlds"

Between planets and formulas
a blue river of thought winds.
Golden spheres dream of touch,
while the wall of time slowly cracks.
Everything is a calculation—
and yet remains a mystery.

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"Where silence remembers"

Sometimes the greatest movement is the one that leads back.
To places where silence is not empty, but full of memories.
Winter does not ask questions — it just silently accompanies.

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"When Silence Reveals Its Messenger" On the threshold between the world of forms and the world of breath sits the one who has forgotten his name. The desert whispers ancient mantras to him, and from the misty light a swan is born -- a being of a different rhythm, a different time. It does not come with an answer, only with a presence that transforms everything. Its wings caress the air, as the soul touches the truth and nothing more needs to be said.

"When Silence Reveals Its Messenger"

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QP Your Lighthouse

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"Gallery of Silence!
You enter a hall where sound has fallen silent, and the walls have become the memory of shadows. Each frame is a gateway, each image a breath that is inhaled from the depths of the unseen.

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QP your Christmas Tree art

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QP Your Zipper

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Prayer

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QP The decomposition of reality
Will anyone join?😉

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"Why"

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QP Something Black and Orange

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The last supper.

QP Rose
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Silence that loves light
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"The Journey of the Mind"

A world grows out of her eyes,
cities that never sleep,
butterflies from the dust of memories
and trees that whisper dreams.