on an afternoon
you swear you want something light this time
you want to be like some clouds
those happy ones
those that change faces and shapes and
colors every second
something slippery to our senses
you dislike permanence
and stability
you opt for the floating flimsy things
a leaf floating on the water
a boy wading on the shore afraid of the
depths like the way his mother watches over him
you say
you are tired of these philosophical pursuits
as though thinking hurts
as though every word becomes an argument
you like something fashionable like gowns
and the latest creations of
some gay designers
i am firm and i stay
on the depths of my thoughts
and i am drowning and as you well see
i do not need your help
i like this pain of fathoming
whatever is there
is mine alone and now
step out from the yard of my life
get out of my fence
i live here and this is my territory
this is my loneliness
and i am proud of it.
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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