a visit in Tabon
on a truck like a curacha
winding through the mountains
yes on a hot summer's day
there i meet people who grow
the coconut trees
mahogany trees
cut forest trees and
burnt grasses
there i see faces without hopes
and i say to myself
this is true
this is not a white lie
unlike the books
too harsh
to be part of any literature
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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