Ellie belfiglio

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


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Father, my precious dad, this is how I felt after your death. Tears still flow at unseen places. I can’t get over it as some people tell me. Because of my political asylum, I could not even go to the funeral. We just had our phone calls. Dad I miss you. Your first child. You called me the light of your eyes. Bye dad. Rest in peace…


Lost in the river of unforeseen quarrels,

Drowning below some untold dreams;

Feeling within, the heartache of sorrows,

Searching for meaning in holding back screams’

Using as weapons, the renegade stories;

Holding for ransom, a love, yet unforeseen;

Unspoken forgiveness, false passion is borrowed;

Sharing alone, a slow dying heartbeat.

Can’t sleep!! …




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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