Sometimes

Sometimes
I act
as if
my life is over.

For example:
I only see old people
in the streets these days.

The younger ones
(they’re outnumbered)
I examine carefully
with a smile on my face
and an instant memory
of me being that age.

I am invisible,
of a certain era.
No longer a looker
with a swift walk.

I study faces, people
to remind me
of times gone bye
and
on top of that

I watch daytime television!

URGH

— the news,
but still:
that’s something
really, really old people do
with lots of time
on their hands
and numbered
days

—or poets
looking for clues.

Poetry, like mathematics, is a pure, strong and powerful language with its own deeply creative meaning. It describes a totally new world with its own parameters, rules, regulations and truths.

Where mathematics is clean and only to be interpreted in one unique way, I think poetry can be fluid and hold different layers. There is the difference.
But both are holders of a totally unique universe to describe the world.