when fifteen i got more
dreams than you,
until i got to be nineteen
experiencing some little pains
i sorted some dreams
and threw them all away
i wanted to live in a new house
there is no show of a shadow of a house
i dreamed of horses that i can ride on mountainsides
i got only goats
got realistic somehow
i only take what i can take hold of
at fifty i dream no more
a practical man
i sit on a bench facing a road
sip my coffee
and watch the dusts left by a rushing car towards the city.
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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