Read My Poem Friend
Read my poems, friend
wisdom they carry in metric tones
“Hey, you tell me to read your poems
that wisdom they bear as ocean waters
but how can I read them for sure?
how can I understand chaotic words
when I hated literature in school?
Let me tell you, friend;
Poetry needs other persons
the ones who talk as parrots
the ones who shout as weaver-birds
those who jump as frightened horses
those who crawl on bellies as chameleon
the ones who look as owls in double glasses
those who listen as shadows in the dark
and are carefree as ghosts in caves
As for me I squat here as a cat daily
waiting for any shadow a rat
to get lost into my hungry bag
That is my job, friend
not reading poems. I hate it
a mess of confused words
pasted together by a dreamer
the one who believes can govern
the world of sleepy men
by use of disjointed thoughts
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