when you walk away
i am not sad
what i think most
is that you must find the right path
this one is not for you
i have seen your footsteps break
themselves upon
those roadblocks
i have to drive you away
for you do not grow well here
a moss to sand
a seed on a rocky ground
a tower on a pile of sand
you are destined to be great
in the land where your feet are desirous
like some kind of dancing feet on those
dancing shoes
like some kind of fingers fidgety on those
guitar strings
law is a serious faced monster
with blind eyes and sharp claws and
venomous tongue
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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