Ellie belfiglio

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

“COBBLED STREETS”

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Ellie belfiglio

the-cobbled-streets-of-montefioralle

… Foredoomed walked cobbled streets

Rubbing off on passers spreading ill blood.

Locking arms with old strangers’, their humn

Of hate faintly creeps through Chapel Doors

Melting the noble Priests GOLDEN CURCIFIX

Closing the innocent child’s eyes to the

Drop of blood. Spelt!

anaglyph-crucifix-in-the-autum-ramon-martinez

… Even song falls making no sound

Young maiden doest thou shudder

Belle Tourney unadorned with spite

Passion fills thy veins!

… “Impunity?!” Laughs carnage; none is!

There here- Saints lose faith, shrink from hope.

Compassion on enchantment of misdoubt

Carried in letters of relic engravers.

… Old hag doest thou cry out!?

Death fills thy veins

Relic is thy hope!! …

Shroud-of-Turin-claims

Ellie

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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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