by the time that this walk and
intermittent stays are completed
soon, i shall be like you papa
sitting on the bench facing the
porch watching the sunset...
i shall pour wine in the glass
as i shall pour all my waning desires
those wasted years
seeing life pass me by
i am untouched and i have not
touched anyone
except the cycle of those moments
all too human,
handed by the dictates of humanity
complete with the diploma
life completed,
ecstasy unachieved.
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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