on the blank pages
i write nothing
on the wall i write
nothing
i only speak and
then leave
when i arrive here
i carry nothing and
thus give you nothing
when the hour comes
for departure
i travel light
as light as air passing
by your window
i take nothing too
for
empty handed i come
and empty handed shall i go
did you say that too
cynth?
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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