of what use is the
whiteness?
the purity that you
have maintained in the color of your
soul
of what use is the red
in your center?
it is just a piece of art
pure aesthetics without any function at all
forbidden flap
full of flimsy fabrications
you cannot put salt in a flower and
say you want to preserve it
like some sort of peppered pickles
white soon shall turn to a bruise
freshness into a contusion
ponder upon the shortness of the life span
of the butterfly
get wild like a snake
bite, bite, if needed, bite the delicious apple of discord
savor.
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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