you pretend that sleep is your friend
but sleep is honest enough to admit that there is something wrong
with the bed
the blankets are talking and the pillows
are protesting
your hairs are mad
your eyes as usual do not tell the lies
that your mouth and tongue have long mastered
and the teeth that grit
knows who at the end
shall win
your mind is not a friend of anyone
its insomnia the heart fears
can kill anyone
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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