Spoken Softly

Hi! I'm Eliana and this is a blog of my poetry. I always follow back and I love critiques, comments, and feedback. I want to grow as a poet and a writer so feedback is always welcome! My other blog: http://ellinava.tumblr.com/

Well Now I’m Fucked

I am struggling to keep pace

And fighting stay afloat

In this raging current of day-to-day stress

But it’s like someone left me with the paddle

And stole the boat


Sometimes I’m really good at hiding what I feel (inside)

Donning a mask, so my emotions I can


But lately it seems like everyday, I’m in


And when people ask me how I am, all that comes spilling out is



My feet stand on uneven ground

Or maybe it’s my bones that don’t match quite right

And the ground is solid and stable, packed tight

Perhaps one leg is longer than the other

One foot bigger than the other

Or maybe my eyesight is wack

Is it the shop windows and mirrors which distort my image

Or the glossy reflections I see through ads in magazines?

Or society’s standards

Or is there something in between?

Or maybe, just maybe, is there actually something wrong with me?


When you are near me

It takes all the strength within me

To not kiss you

And so I wait

Because what I want

More than anything is

For you

                 to kiss




These things called kisses,

Flood the cracks of loneliness which perforate my lips

With sweet passion

And so I give myself permission

To free fall into the bottomless pit of desire

And as I let you revel in the words of beauty

Which, you tell me, coat my skin,

As I endlessly skim your lips

Which taste of paradise,

As the heat of your touch melts away the loneliness

Which has hardened my heart for so long,

For too long,

I give

My heart

To you.

More than anything

More than anything, I want to move you

I want to fill you with the same emotions that rock my body when I hear others speak

To feel so choked up, your throat internally constricting so much, it must be your inner self strangling you

To feel your extremities frozen because your heart is so swollen with inspiration, you can hear each beat

To feel that writer’s blockade smashed to smithereens like Miley Cyrus just came in on a wrecking ball

Except what truly blows you away

Is that these words come from the mouth of one of your peers

Someone with similar concerns and fears

Who speaks the words you have always wished to hear 

Move, Members, Move: Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham

A poem in response to “Move, Members, Move: Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham”, a piece that is part of Alvin Ailey’s suite “Revelations”

Rich tones and a steady beat pervade the stage,

Sweeping circles of arms end in fluttering fans,

High kicks create fleeting half-moons of yellow fabric,

And all the while, joy emanates from brightly colored bodies which crowd the stage.

Manly shoulders bounce in time,

Clapping hands form a new rhythm,

Knees bend and bounce,

Arms are raised aloft, pointing in the direction of heaven,

All the while, an aura of sincere movement and jubilant praise spills off the stage,

Inches through the seats

Slips into my heart

And evokes a smile.

Take Me to the Water: Wade in the Water

A poem in response to “Take Me to the Water: Wade in the Water” , a piece that is part of Alvin Ailey’s suite “Revelations”

Framed by beings, with arms extended

Exists a woman swathed in white fabric

With a skirt of swirling ruffles.

Her chest,

Engages in evocative, rolling contractions.

One arm, 

Beckons with sinuous gestures.

One arm,

Shakes a white umbrella.

Her whole body,

Rolls like the ripples of a stream.

Pilgrims of Sorrow: I’ve Been ‘Buked

A poem in response to “Pilgrims of Sorrow: I’ve Been ‘Buked” , a piece that is part of Alvin Ailey’s suite “Revelations”

Strong arms circle and reach
Circle and reach,
Creating a ring of divine desire.

Strong arms curl in,
Curl in,
Then unfold in a pyramid of arcs,
As taut skin and muscle stretch across backbones
Fashioning wings in a palette of skin tones.

Strong arms coil in,
Coil in,
In a fluid contraction,
Only to raise and reach heaven bound
With forearms parallel in a stance of supplication
Their bodies ultimately bloom into vulnerable collarbones,
And naked palms open in prayer.


It is winter break and

As I clean my room

I find traces of summer hidden in creases and crevices

Hidden in the folded pockets of shorts

Ground into the seams of bags that were never meant to go to a beach

Pooled on the bottom of a forgotten peanut butter jar filled with sea glass

I open the case which holds my broken old sunglasses that I refuse to throw out

And suddenly it seems like everything is leaking sand and sea water

Flashback to days when the air was filled with the scent of salt

Days saturated with the sound of laughter and splashing water

Days I wished would last forever

Because there is nothing more calming than the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore

I swear I could stare at the sea forever

But like many others, though my heart’s at sea my mind is a landlubber

And it perpetually calls me back to shore.