we are here in this abandoned house
let us go inside and find out what is left here
the pillars are still tall and nailed to each other
time did not touch the stairs
perhaps they are so insignificant
there is that bed where we spent the moments of youth
your moans are missing
the head board is dusty and the termites ate the legs
it is uneven now, and to hold itself it leans on the side table
i see you on top of me when my eyes were closed.
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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