and so i rode on the white car and someone
was driving who does not talk, it was strange
there was this typhoon that kept on coming
and i was holding on the door of the car
and it was raining hard on the winding
and slippery road towards nowhere
fog and mist and a bunch of rain and wind
and then i heard the sound of the car falling on
a cliff and then
there was something that was as absolute as
involuntary silence.
all the fears vanished.
i woke up.
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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