beneath my feet
i hide my shadows and
they escape like
fugitives
under the guises
of their
sad stories
beneath my hands
i clasp my emptiness
and shaped like a ball
you mistake it for
fullness
you are confused
and i look amazed
still unfazed by your
feigned confidences
beneath my hair
i hide my thoughts
beneath my skull
i hide my soul
beneath my beliefs
i hide a number of faces
beneath my heart
i tell love stories
beneath all these
are the shallowness of them all
something that nobody expects
for i am simple
as a yellow paper
where you list
your unpaid debts.
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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