Poetry, That Is... Poem by Enya Woid

Crafted words and blistered

thoughts, fill the white sheet

with ink and

emotions.

It’s as easy

as cooking, you

prepare everything with

your hands: wash, peel, and slice those

needed into

scribbling.

Then you heat the

pan with the

fire of age, pour some

oil of experience, then

the process continues.

Sometimes you get burned

with the heat of poignant

angst and mental

lump, but then

you know that

you just need the

salt of

life.



After then, you smell it,

taste it, and savor the

triumph of that

words-full

food.



It’s as easy as

cooking… but first,

learn how

to cook.