in vietnam or in hongkong
it is the same road that i walk
same lengths of
arms to reach another
wall
it is the same salt of the
sea
on a beach holiday
same coldness of the shades
of trees
along some boulevards
same noise
in malls and repeated
lyrics
sounds of love
and indifference
same menu on restaurants
and sometimes
same talk even
that strangest boredom
seems to be too insensitive
to leave me
at least for once
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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