September 06 2 008
Poet …
That poet is … the man or woman that it is in love of what he reads, or with what it surrounds him …
The smile of a child,
The lamentation of an old man,
Barking of the dog,
The perfume of a rose,
The wind that gives in a face, dries for the fury of the sun,
Perhaps … a few feet tired of gait …
Or the poet is the one that is always sitting writing after a table, distracted the look and the frown.
September 06 2 008
Do you know that you look?
You look friends …: and if you have them and do not appreciate them?
You look for emotion …: and if it exceeds you?
Do you know in fact that it fills you?
And … if you are only a mere spectator in your life where you pass without much ado rhythm, where you depend on the foreign contents, if only you are appropriating of the time as if it was something useless … mmmm
For what do we look in fact?
Behind what do we walk?
Of obtaining place? of that they appreciate us to feel alive … of that they despise us to feel that we are part of “something“.
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