31.3.07

Sense

My sense are open
I can touch
I can feel
I can smell

Before
after
in the morning
or the night

Where are you?
I can´t touch
I can´t smell
I can´t feel

Where I am?
here in the
best place
my self

4 comments:

Bugwit said...

Thanks for stopping by, Vilma. You have a lot of feeling in your poetry. I'll be back to read what you feel. :-)

Vilma Rubi said...

What is poetry?
Feelings?
Ideas?
You are welcome dear Bugwit!

Bugwit said...

To me, poetry is emotion that pours out of me like blood. It comes when I'm cut, not when I want to write. By writing it down, I bandage the wound.

I don't know if it is good, but it just comes to me in one peice.

Vilma Rubi said...

Bugwit
The poetry in you below the world ... thanks ...your words reminds me of a spanish musician´s verse ...

Goodness have nothing to do with your soul so...