there are other things to do
but they remain undone, i am lost again
in the intricacies of
insatiability
i am burning but never consumed
by my own fire
it is beautiful and it is painful
the two are here together
i am a ball of fire
in this night that others have always dubbed
as lonely
this is the fire of my own
eternity
always unconsumed always feed by
imagination
i live here always
no one knows.
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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