pretty is sweet and rose scented
i go only for the hugging and the caressing
she licks me though on my feet and toe
but no matter how lonely
i do not sleep with pretty
i still have fears of the fleas
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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