it is the same old man sitting on a firewood
beside his granddaughter along a narrow alley
the doors align like uniformed soldiers waiting for
the nearing war
some children are playing hide and seek
it is getting dark
stuffed old man and a motionless granddaughter
i change my conclusion, i do not know anything
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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