hot noodle soup that's newly cooked outside the night is cold as stars begin to twinkle, the moon to hover on top of the banana palms the sound of bamboo leaves shall serve as music to a choir of cicadas singing can you share your time for a cup of noodle with me? |
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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