a pen that you just keep
but you have no time using,
an outmoded cell phone
that you are not willing to give up,
a creaky bed, a rusty pin,
a handkerchief with an embroidered
name of your someone special
a old diary, a tiny wild flower
between the pages of your
favorite book, locks of hair,
what do i really need these things for?
ah, memories, rotten memories,
so sweet still.
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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