something short
and thin and crispy and
a little bit salty
a little sugar can make
a difference
inside the mouth the tongue misses
a pinch of bitterness
the taste buds want a complete
rainbow from teeth to teeth
something that is wet and
sticky
no one says
we miss the pungent moments sometimes
as usual the night full of secrets
hides its face from the candid days
the cover of the journal is black
the whiteness of the pages faded into an off-white disposition
what is not written there
if by chance these things fall into your hands must be understood by you
shall i say
we are riding in the same boat towards the same direction
yes, please, do not judge me
you have always proclaimed we are what we are and no one has the right to change us.
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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