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.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
blanket
white sea spreading before me
so silky
tiny ripples of the wind
from a far
bringing some stories
from the other island
some leaves fall from
the pitogo tree
some flowers pink and white
lay on the shore
white sands of silence
and peace
seeping in my skin
i am barefoot
i am naked down to the waist
i am waiting
for the sun to descend upon the bosom
of the horizon
i am dreaming of palm trees
soft winds
of summer
a door opens in my mind
i get in
stepping into something new
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