an idea always comes from
all of you, a chat early this morning
the wind outside is cold and the rain has
not subsided it
the road is empty and the leaves scatter
there
jimmy is starting the engine of his motorcycle
his girlfriend met an accident last night
my window is open
since last night and some rain came in but i did not really mind it
i look at myself in the mirror in the bathroom after i have taken my bath
of hot water
my body is another wasted material
my face is like a sinking boat in the water
my eyes like a drowning child
time has judged me like an unforgiving father
to a prodigal son
i have freed myself from some shackles but i have never used
that freedom too well
there are stories of murder and regrets after
and they shall remain always ready to be told
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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