in prison
am i
inside the mystery
of your arms
i lose myself
and i tremble
i search for my soul
it is nowhere
not knowing what to do
to regain who i am
i explore the labyrinths
of your heart
every chamber and corner
and passage
there is that exit
of familiarity
outside i see nothing
but contempt of you
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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