clumsy words
holding nothing but the emptiness
of air
molecules unseen moving
in random directions
shall i identify myself with
just one
and claim that i am lost
in such space of
invisible ions
i am always at a loss
what shall i say?
about these feelings
unrequited
i want to touch your lips
my hands are bound
i want to say i feel love
my tongue is tied
like a sun i tower above you
so helpless
i fade in the dark
there are no stars in the skies
These are poetic experiments. Man's quest for the poetic element never ceases. He is always caught in the eye of awe. He does not make the rules now. The rules change depending on the emotion that time and space feed him. He must see everything with his wide eyes gaping. The beginning of poetry too, like philosophy is wonder. Look and see. Do not stop wondering You are the poet. And everything is poetry. Wonder. Wander.
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