there is this desert
which is full of love
there is nothing in there
except the ostracized
ostrich
you like it somehow
saying, ah, love is still
the answer
there is this paradise
full of greens and reds
fenced by the rules
loveless,
you do not like to live there
despite the
comfort of the
apple trees
and the scents of the pines
and the coolness of
the blueness of the
coves and
the clouds
now you must make the choice
which one? i have chosen mine.
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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