you wish you were a snail rather than a hammer
but the lines are written on your palms
like the maps of your destination
you earn silence, the silence of the snails
you expunge the hardness of the steel
you solidify your arms and hands
you build an iron canopy around your heart
for a time you like this pretension
how long how soon? the invaders are here
with their tin mouths and bladed lips
how soon? shall you let thing run like you have
no control? there are children on the lower part
of your trousers and they put their hopes on you pelvis
you stand and rise from your stupor
wins the vigor, calms all souls
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment