blue chairsat the center table
lies the red cloth
there are no diners
this time of the day
on the blue frames of
the glass window
where the white curtains
flow like water
the lush of the red
bougainvillea crowns
this is bliss
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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