what if i go there
undressed, completely undressed
and i shall be confronted with the vastness of the desert
and i shall hear nothing but the
wind and the slush of the sands?
am i ready to scorch in the desert
and die and be one of the unaccounted skulls there
together with some
unnamed cows and
jackals?
the idea is horrible.
and i am staying here within these four corners
fully dressed.
moral. citizen x.
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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