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/

Tequila Kisses

I should have realized you were drunk

When I kissed your lips 

And found that you tasted of tequila

But I was distracted by the sensation of your arms gripping me tight

And in a slight haze myself from some drinks earlier that night

Too enamored with the moment to take note of that warning light

I lost myself in your tequila kisses

And now I am left picking up the broken pieces.

Refuge

The studio is my sanctuary

and dance is my salvation

Even when all my muscles ache

And I can hardly stay awake

I place my hand on the studio door

And the weight of everyday concerns fall off my shoulders

Like a heavy cape collapsing upon the floor

And the bindings of barbed wire that surround my heart

Turn to elastic and I can finally

                                                     B   R   E   A   T   H   E

                      again.

Empty Vessel

I want to leave this world filled with words that will echo in the mouths of others for years to come

When I leave this world, I want to leave speechless

Exhale my last breath without regret

I refuse to let my body be a message in a bottle, forever lost at sea

A chest without a key

Filled to the brim, bursting with opinions I kept to myself

Every time I open my lips, I want to pour out a bit of my soul

So when the time comes, I will depart an empty vessel

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

Hidden

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

Donning a mask, so my emotions I can

                               hide

But lately it seems like everyday, I’m in

                                                                Disguise

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

                                                                                                     Lies.

Doubt

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?

Desire

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

                                       me

                                                             first.

Kisses

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.