Many of today's verses are prose and bad prose.

There is also poetry written to be shouted in a square in front of an enthusiastic crowd. This occurs especially in countries where authoritarian regimes are in power.

Happiness, for you we walk on a knife edge. To the eyes you are a flickering light, to the feet, thin ice that cracks; and so may no one touch you who loves you.

True poetry is similar to certain pictures whose owner is unknown and which only a few initiated people know.

Slowly poetry becomes visual because it paints images, but it is also musical: it unites two arts into one.

However, poetry does not live solely in books or in school anthologies.

Art is the production of objects for consumption, to be used and discarded while waiting for a new world in which man will have succeeded in freeing himself of everything, even of his own consciousness.