Ellie belfiglio

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


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Ellie belfiglio


… Must you go? When you do, it comes a day,

To the end of road I walk with dismay.

Your arms lock around my neck, you sigh!

Your gentle bye before leaving! God, why?

… I look through window day and night.

As times slips away, it increases my spite.

How can I see inside your world and be alive?

How can I think you will return and thrive?


… You, the soldier of the war, be strong.

You fight somewhere far and go along.

I walk down the same road every night;

Imagining to see your shadow under street light!

… Summer is over, leaves turn pale.

I still stand against the door of my jail.


Closing my eyes, may be I dream,

That you are walking into the door, I deem.

… Isn’t that the strangest thing that I want to fly;

And go where the soldiers…

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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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