some poetics, some walking

by walterdoege

during the time I was at the streets in Paris, I walked just after the noonday…une promedade…une flanêrie…it means, sweet walking and parking…I purchased some books at my favorite library…one pocketbook…the other, a book of poems…at this library the books are on the floor, the walls, the bookshelves…some arrangement I like so much…and after a while, I walked with no goal, till I found a little shop of musical instruments…the seller was kind and welcome my visit…I say him that I wanted to buy a piano, but also that I acknowledged I could not transport it on my shoulders…he invited me to play something…he liked B. Dylan as much as me…I sit down in front of a good piano and played ‘the answer is blowing in the wind’…at final, all of us could sing together…I sensed some winds at the streets, but I have no questions on my mind…then I purchased an old chromatic harmonic…a good musical instrument…I play it sometimes nowadays…when I play it, some remembrances come to me…some poetics I can sense in some instants…at this point of my life remembrances are good company…and some pieces of poems…free verse…let me go to free sentiment…I notice myself reading some poems…and reading about poetry…the rhyms, the metrics…the rhythm…the beatings…the sound bass…the imagery of some perception and hard writing at the paper, or digital screen…what is a poem?…I sense as a short, very short romance…some poems are longer than a romance, or a novel…some poems have three lines, as the haikus…or some poems are five line verse with twenty two words, as the cinquains…as in writing task, no rules, no much thinking…some just start writing…why do I write, why do I read, why do I play some music, some poems too, if not from only and inner drive, the desire of lasting the time…no matter what time is…the strong will to share love…literature is a way of living