lights come in from crevices
of your plywood walls
it is morning and sounds come trickling
like rain from the kitchen
smells of fried egg and coffee fumes
and thin smoke rising from the rice
you stretch your hands
rub your eyes
and see a new beginning
someone sings like crazy in the bathroom
you remember
she is another one
you knew just last night
this is not daily routine
you still have to ask her name
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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