Ellie belfiglio

When I hear this sound that awakens me, intimidating its way into my cloistered night, I write…




My discretion, prudence are despair.

I lit a candle to watch its flair.

It flickers, as the world does onto me.

It flames, cries beneath the ceiling fan, looks like a tree.

The wax dripped, rained my tears.

Get a grip. I tried with no cheers.

Flames would grow bright and high;

Then, WOW, the world falls and does die.

Get a grip, I tried but the evil fit,

Like the fan played its atrocious cheat!


Are the tears real, are they mine?

Whirling of world like the fan must be s sign!

It pulls and pushes you round and round.

How burned out you feel of this turning sound!

It snuffs you of every breath of night.

Fight on! Fight on! Take a grip! Do invite.

But fan whirls faster, it growls.

You lose your grips while fan howls!! …





Author: elliebelfiglio

I am a professor, a poet, an author, and an immigrant. I am the survival of many political and economical hardship. As a political immigrant, it took me a long time to master the English language and to come to terms that I can never see my family again. "THE PARTING FROM MY FAMILY WAS THE BEGINNING OF A FRIENDSHIP THAN THE END OF OUR FRIDAYS!" My autobiography, "THE RAIN STOPS IN TEXAS" was published in 1997 by Eakin Press. It can be found in Amazon. As Ernest Hemingway says, write about something you know, most of my novels are about cultural difference of the old and new and American style of living compare to my home country. My poetry are in all forms. I write as they come to me. My first draft is always my last draft. "THIS IS MY WORLD, WELCOME!" "THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE!"

4 thoughts on ““HOWLING OF A FAN”

  1. This is beautiful Ellie! Keep fighting!

Let everybody be nice!

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