typhoons are not that strong <br />sometimes <br />they behave like <br />critics, passing by an <br />island, saying, hey you <br />are not an island after <br />all, you are just a hill <br />fit for a Bollywood <br />scene <br /> <br />I am in that island <br />feeling some itch <br />of its breeze, but i was too <br />busy then <br />climbing one <br />of the narrative trees <br />there <br /> <br />and he asks <br />is there such a thing <br />as a narrative tree? <br />i crack the nut <br />and drink the clouds <br />there <br />and he is filled with <br />so much <br />awe, <br />he gets itchy <br />and scratches <br />all the skins <br />and even the bones <br />he rattles like <br />a snake <br />and wants to bite <br /> <br />the narrative tree <br />has everything <br />to offer <br />gentle, and soft <br />and conversational <br /> <br />but he wants to deny <br />this kind of tree <br />saying <br />there is no such <br />thing as that <br />and this <br /> <br />oh my, what a man <br />he is <br />structured in his cage <br />not knowing <br />that he is meant to <br />be free <br />from the shackles of <br />his verse <br />from the narrow alleys <br />of his <br />rhyme <br /> <br />goodness, we do not <br />even try <br />grafting the metaphors <br /> <br />i love it here <br />this island where i touch <br />him not <br />but he touches me <br />i guess <br />that is envy.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/typhoon-3/
