you know there is someone inside me
it speaks
i hate to listen to this creature
it sounds like myself
sometimes it demands something that
horrifies me
and i don't want to give in
because it seems not to mind if i am hurt most
i press it like a marshmallow
keeping it small and almost invisible
but this creature knows how to scream
like a cow and to stop the humiliation
i finally give in and keep myself
running pursuant to its instructions
it drinks some blood from my dog
sips it like soda
it bathes itself in mud and does not
want to be rubbed
it shows itself naked in the mall
what a shame to my soul
but then when all his wants are given
it says sorry and then says that now i am free
it hides inside in my tummy
and then sleeps all day
now i am back to my senses
after sacrificing for all these compromises
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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