the conversation last night
was the beginning of our own claim
that after all
our words do not really speak
for ourselves,
that what we are, shall,
remain unannounced,
we keep it, like an opinion,
we have diaries, with black
hard covers, that every night
we open and
make some more
Notes,
there are surprises within
without, there are only the boredom
of routines
i am not responsible for
what you believe,
i am only, a limited territory
for what i am.
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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