the white moon stoopsand recedes behind tall
coconut trees
its rays of light shimmering
on the ripples
the waves coming to me
my boat as purple as the
feelings i have
sail on and on
away from purple island
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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