Ellie belfiglio

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


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When I go out in the blue air of May

My face grows damp as some other dawn.

Then I realize my submission is gray.

Little by little my image fades away.

So many marvelous reasons shriek to bond

To stimulate the unaroused in solitude.

Maturing in my dreams, I have left no memory.

Wandering through the desert of loneliness

No feeling of sorrow but a blind rage!

I chew on my silent anger.


Rotten memories float conspicuously in the room.

I confuse them with sudden gust of rain!

The mournful glow on my face is red.

Startled by the obvious burden, I stand.

I can’t help a knot in my throat forming fast.

My eyes fill with lasting tears.

My soul brightens with the nostalgic last dream.

Feeling so far away from the best moments,

I yearn for the worse, I constrain my brain.

My heart is compressed by daily reality.

Feeling apart by waves of nostalgic past

The sensation of sadness becomes a vice as years grow!! ...

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!"

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