on those
empty hours
those passengers fidgety on their seats
waiting
for the next boat
the time that pass
like seagulls without seeing any fish
on the surface of
the sea
that belly
with a protruding navel
borne out of
a sick
mother
the light that is on
at noon time
on a door closed
of an
abandoned house
two bodies making love
in the name of
emptiness
prostitutes without
customers
in a bar
so cold and a singer
that sings
a Whitney Houston
messy room
of a student hooked to drugs
kitchen filled with bugs
and toilets
unflushed for days
flies that invade
a rotten rat
competing with worms
Art thoust
serve
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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