I Began Saving Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka

all the bits
and pieces
of papers
with my writing
especially
with hand scribbled
cyphers
on the back
of used envelopes.

Poetic lines.
Observations.
Sometimes bullshit.

The reason
is inspirational
micro seconds
are non recoverable
once out of the mind.

A bit like dreams
that fade
the moment we wake
unless we rehearse
their details.

For instance
I was somnolent
with in the background
some French
actuality dialogues
about
the Iliad by Homer.

But for some reason
I was thinking
of John Cage,
Ravel,
Rahmaninoff,
Stravinsky
played on Japanese
Taiko drums.

Now wouldn't that
be a coup
despite my having
zero knowledge
about music
other than when
blaring
old gypsy tunes
in the shower.