even in the room of my dreams
when i invited you in
you are till looking for that
squeaking bed
of long ago, when we were so young
and unrestrained
as the wind that gushes forth
from one window to another
i want to reinvent its softness
all its four legs
but the mistress of my sleep
dislikes it
what we have here are flat
uncatalogued floors
a room without walls
an empty space without stars
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment