blurring visions
that see tired tigers
retreating inside a cave
away from humanity,
cracking bones
shouting for repair,
falling hair
lots of locks on the
pillow that early morning
when there is no feeling
of waking up,
a mouth that is shut
munching words
and swallowing pride,
a heart that no longer
weeps,
hands that reside
inside the pocket,
feet that refuse to
take another mile
of tolerance,
poems growing
like molds on
left -bread
a cockroach proclaiming
victory over
unwashed coffee mugs.
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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