One day I decided to write a poem a day. I called it "The Folded Poems" because I pretended finding them under a chair written on the folded pieces of paper. The only criteria for the poems to be, was my own endorsement. I was the judge. If it "sounded" right, I kept it. Keeping with the pace, though, was not easy. Here I am posting them up to date. I am still writing, but not necessarily every day.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
From the womb of your mouth comes a soothing prenatal sound. Now, that we have lost our patriarch, we express everything in a flow. There is no more clots in our blood than consonants in out words.
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