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Aug 2020 · 146
catch-twenty two.
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
the substance of past runs down through my scars
slicing with regrets, grief and loss;
bleeding with memories hooked on distant stars,
beautiful but faraway, meant to burn, and over time, get lost.

IA
Aug 2020 · 274
untold poetry.
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
poem lines run through my head;
unstructured, barely coherent, contemplative,
they were the words & thoughts left unsaid
this heart bleeds wasted poetries like a thriving captive.

IA
Aug 2020 · 136
armor-less.
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
the daggers pierced through,
when i thought i had an armor on;
i barely felt the stinging pain,
i barely bled before my eyes,

i carried on until i looked at the mirror;
i forgot how the sharp tip should have felt,
it pierced through my own flesh, armor-less.

IA
Ileana Amara Jul 2020
idealism is a fraud;

angels don't cut off demons' horns
nor do they make them do so;

trust is built for decades,
it cannot be rebuilt in a month
after its destruction;

sometimes worn out apologies
are slapped band-aids onto wounds;

love is not a combat of logic and emotion,
whoever wins makes the other go;

hearts don't stay hearts,
they turn into things
when their own beats begin to lie;

we live in utopian daydreams,
with only a few, broken but breathing souls
seeing through the seams.

IA
Jul 2020 · 256
thousand funerals.
Ileana Amara Jul 2020
they say that to love someone in a lifetime,
you have to attend a thousand funerals
of people who they used to be.

i stood before yours in disbelief,
as you stood before mine;
pale, cold, grasping for life.

IA
Inspired by Priebe's words.
Jul 2020 · 219
cosmic travel
Ileana Amara Jul 2020
she was a dreamer,
who spends her days scribbling
her thoughts and dreams onto paper,
only to tear off the page,
folded onto a paper airplane,
blown with her passionate soul
towards a cosmic travel.

IA
Jun 2020 · 213
coexistence
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
in the subtlety of time,
they dragged me into a dark pit of existence,
sundered my being with their sharp claws
of everything as dark as their eye pupils
they had no ears to listen to my wails,
chained in terror, at loss for hope;
I was their sole epitome of misanthrope,
birthed by my own mind; demons beyond my scope

loneliness engulfed me; the downside of solitude
demons voided me from a life well-pursued
they were an illusion who loves to delude,
day by day, I attempted to befriend them,
what better way to lure an enemy into a friend condemned?

yet there was a root to its subsistence,
there was pain to its persistence,
it was real, desiring for our coexistence.

IA β˜•
Jun 2020 · 182
flowers from my wounds
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
𝐼'π‘š π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘“π‘‘π‘–π‘›' 𝑖𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝, π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘¦π‘–π‘›' π‘‘π‘œ 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 π‘Ž π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ β„Žπ‘œπ‘šπ‘’
hold me close, I don't want to feel in love yet alone
a tattered young soul, dressed in sad monochrome

π·π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘£π‘–π‘›' π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Ž π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘‘π‘ , π‘›π‘œπ‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝐼 π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘›π‘Ž π‘”π‘œ
feeling lost, counting streetlights as the wind blow
perhaps on a midnight search of a heart's afterglow

𝐹𝑒𝑙𝑑 π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑠 β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ 𝐼 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝑖𝑑 π‘π‘’π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’
breathing in love as romantic gothics fell on the floor
tired eyes of a restless lover fighting a nonsense war

π‘‡β„Žπ‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝐼'𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ 𝑏𝑒𝑑 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘‘π‘œπ‘š π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘  π‘ π‘™π‘œπ‘€
but all good and worthy things come after a beautiful woe
caressed my wounds and scars, from where flowers grow.

IA
Inspired by the song "Leaning on Myself" // Anna of the North.
Jun 2020 · 138
finding flow (v.)
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
when you breathe life and forget about existence
paving a secret passage towards happiness,
ecstatic, passionate, alive; beating up cruel fate's wittiness.

IA β˜•
Jun 2020 · 310
harmonized diversity
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
I think it's beautiful to be constantly reminded
that orchestras are composed of diverse instruments
embracing individuality to create a harmony undead,
by the conductor's hands, a music lives, unfolding beautiful sentiments.

IA β˜•
A gentle reminder that there is no need for racism to reign over our lives; our individuality as human beings makes us who we are, and if we could embrace this wholeheartedly, we too, most likely create a harmonized diversity.
Jun 2020 · 159
breathe me back to life
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
I beg for the heavens to breathe me back to life;

all the tough walls have been breached
it was inner peace, I am trying to reach
I bled from nowhere, have to learn how to stitch,
my life to a lifeless soul seems to have been switched

heavens did not hear me for days and weeks,
I was left thinking, sometimes bare existence is a misery.

IA
Jun 2020 · 109
edged memories
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
memories are what we often create,
what we seldom forget,
and what we desire to relive.

yet time and time again, they are dangerous things;
we memorize each touch and every ending,
and we still find an edge that cuts.

IA
Jun 2020 · 408
two ears
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
humans are molded with two ears
to hear a story's two sides, to judge without fears
to cut another for the sake of bigotry and injustice;
perhaps to hell do they reside, a conscience without peace.

IA
Jun 2020 · 307
untold paradox
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
beneath all the stillness,
is an underlying ache and madness.

IA
Jun 2020 · 194
life despite downside
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
life is paradoxically beautiful and cruel,
but happiness and discontentment is just a mental duel,
there are so many reasons to be happy
despite having landed rock bottom,
despite regrets,
despite pain,
despite loss,
despite grief,
despite hell.

life's too short to let your demons dance your own stage,
to let pain and death tremble you as your misery's wage,
life won't ever be out to get you, so smile at that,
you're not born in demand to have your whole life mapped;
write, compose, maybe shout what you feel,
paint art in abstractions, in lines with zeal,
listen to the kind of music that would wrap your soul safe & sound
laugh at the misery, because as tough as it is, you can't be dragged down.

IA
Jun 2020 · 115
scratched scars
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
scars do bleed into wounds again,
even if they have clotted,
when they are scratched in itch and immense pain.

IA
Jun 2020 · 183
some selfless, young love
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
I weave this poem before sunrise,
barely realizing how quick time flies,
feeling my heart tangled in tender ties,
I think of you when I close my eyes;

in relentless motion, our chaos dance
synchronizing pain and growth by chance
I held my fragile heart for such romance,
you know well to throw me off my stance

but everything I touch, shatters
and everything that hurts, matters
you're the solace and home my soul would seek,
so I would love you from afar, because that's how my heart speak.

IA
Jun 2020 · 97
life & death
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
maybe this life of ours
and this cruel world
left our eyes with tears blurred
harnessing strength from our scars

until they carve on our tombstones
what we so often need as we breathe and live;
rest in peace, in the underground lay the casket of our bones,
a decent rest in peace, maybe solely death could give.

IA
Jun 2020 · 281
souls in the same era
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
in the vast majority of galaxies,
and written down histories
I think it's beautiful we exist in the same era;
weaving tales of friendship, love and ephemera.

IA β˜•
Jun 2020 · 226
a safe gamble of remnants
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
my heart was hammered a couple times,
of a few lovers who knew bittersweet crimes,
even with these remnants, I want to bet on uncertainty
I want to learn how to love again - fearlessly even in adversity.

IA
Jun 2020 · 127
little things (n.)
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
the ones that matter most
when life gives you a lethal dose
of endless mediocrity, viewed in such grandiose.

IA
Jun 2020 · 154
a play of illusion
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
my poems sway of love, tragedy, and growth
and at most times, you tug me into undead thoughts

a moment to reminisce into a play of illusion,
we sat across each other, making the most of there is
your existence, your memory forms a remarkable fusion
you're a masterpiece sitting before me, a view I long to seize

you were a nostalgic daydream from the past,
you held my hand, captivated my eyes, with a spell of love you cast.

you were there before me, alive in a memory and illusion
slapping myself back to reality; you're undead but gone and changed
I am haunted by a romantic, untold tale that left me estranged
this is a play of illusion, nothing but a subconscious' work, I stare at the empty space, reaching a dead-end conclusion.

IA
Jun 2020 · 139
beautiful and tragic truths
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
we're all just a blink in a ripple of time,
everything, be it good or bad, is temporary
a faultless coincidence or an action to a crime
in a realistic end, everything happens for a reason.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
we're down to the sixth month of twenty-twenty
closing previous chapters, chasing new camaraderie
the chasm and contagious line of diversion keeps worsening
it's alright to wish for new beginnings or a regression to the mean.

have some fearless faith, today is a fresh, blank slate
dare to carve wishes with hope to what is unexpected by fate.

IA β˜•
May 2020 · 295
detrimental dichotomy
Ileana Amara May 2020
when hope drains out like a soul moving out of a body,
it is difficult to walk a path with purpose and steady

when love becomes a baneful burden,
there goes a slit in a wrist, and deep, dark eyes swollen

when faith blurs and requires mere senses to see,
death waves at the doorstep, and life seems to does flee

when the demons take over,
I am dragged down to hell
into the deep pits, seemingly detrimental forever
but I am a dichotomy that neither likes fair-hell or farewell

IA β˜•
This is a poem I'd likely write to my younger self.
May 2020 · 234
unsettling heaviness
Ileana Amara May 2020
the more knowledge we impart to ourselves,
the greater the sorrow,
ignorance is bliss but not for tomorrow,
chaos and riots arise holding weapons' helves
the deeper the wisdom, so does the grief,
all these violence and injustice causes disbelief,
has all the humanity dissolved in a hierarchy of power,
in this time of wide awakening, do the just collapse or take over?

IA
I've been digging into the current issues occurring worldwide, and it's been quite heavy to take all of it in, that it feels almost weird for me to divert myself to other things. I hope anyone who reads this is doing well.
May 2020 · 71
madame & a little girl
Ileana Amara May 2020
a little girl sat on the side of her bed,
facing the window to watch the moon
with her arms folded over to rest her head
she gazed at the moonlight dreamily, her soul in tune

she pondered over the thought of her friends,
most are seasonal, why do good things have to end
she thought about love, chaos, emotion
an old soul resides in her, even if not much of profound notion

she wipes her tears as she remember the goodbyes,
both said and never said, both temporarily and permanently,
she smiled at the moon and breathed a deep sigh,
"I'm only a little girl, to be treated by this world mercilessly."

a knock came upon her door, her madame coming in
it was too late to pretend to be asleep,
she came over to the little girl to see how she has been
"At this hour, why does a young girl weep?"

the little girl's eyes opened its windows to her soul
letting anyone see how dismantled her facade of whole,
"What causes such demounting to your young fragile heart?
whatever it is, bleed tears and from fragmented pieces, you'll again learn how to make art."

IA
May 2020 · 263
stay here for a while
Ileana Amara May 2020
where solitude and solace unite,
the painful past is viewed at my hind sight,
for which the present heals, the future becomes more bright
stay here for a while, it's alright to mourn and heal in the night.

IA
May 2020 · 76
if this is a goodbye
Ileana Amara May 2020
when our stories begin to drip in polychromatic hues,
I long to have a decent epilogue for this story of two;

if this is a goodbye,
I wish our end with a smile and not with tears in our eyes

if this is a goodbye,
I hope at the forked road we part, we both learn how to get by

if this is a goodbye,
I long to preserve the good old memories and not let them die

if this is a goodbye,
I sincerely, and deeply hope everything we had is not a lie.

IA β˜•
May 2020 · 160
bittersweet depresso
Ileana Amara May 2020
running out of my favorite coffee
on such a fine evening to work and write poetry,
without a hot mug beside, it feels incomplete in all honesty,
went for some decaf, apologies, my taste does not really fancy

IA β˜•
Ileana Amara May 2020
I itch to find the right words,
so as not to come off all messy and absurd
yet a lot of oppositions exist even before a word or two
all these words remain unsaid just as how it used to;
reserve your wit,
reserve your advice,
reserve all your chaos,
because sometimes words come off as swords
when all emotions and thoughts come off unfathomed and cluttered.

IA
May 2020 · 72
empty poetry
Ileana Amara May 2020
a crafted line or two of these random words
becomes nothing but mere, effortlessly made records
of vague emotions, of untold chaos sitting still inside
maybe so much could still be written as I long for this heaviness to subside

IA
May 2020 · 184
on sleepless nights
Ileana Amara May 2020
when I think I'm alright,
I still need some pills or a song
to get me through the night
trying to forget how to feel about what went wrong

maybe sometimes it's better to lay sleepless
than drift myself to sleep and wake up hopeless

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
we hold our mind and heart
of such a time-made empirical value
we loved, and we lost, where do we restart?
sweet paradox, maybe it's a theoretical us down to "me & you"

IA
For BLT's Word of the Day Challenge: Empirical.
May 2020 · 121
seams
Ileana Amara May 2020
underneath the seams of fate,
tell me, which do you regret more;
the day you met me?
or the day you left?

IA
A thought-provoking question from my friend that I'm currently thinking of.
May 2020 · 382
in a centenarian's mind
Ileana Amara May 2020
no string is worth cutting
if you could thread through the knot carefully
without dismantling both endings.

IA
This is a short work that defies my previous poem "the untied knot". Centenarians who have managed to live and love in a lasting relationship left me a lesson that most people nowadays tend to give up easily. In the concept that when something is broken, it is now so easily replaced. People who truly love thread through things carefully, work through pain with grace. I'm not a veteran in these kind of things, but I think it's important to know that even in the tough times, pain teaches us to grow in adversity. However on the flip side, paradoxically, one should not allow themselves to forget their worth when they give their all. It's all a matter of moderation & balance. Here's something I'd like to impart:

moment of grace (n.)
the point where people are forced to make a decision that either enables them to transcend a circumstance or succumb to it.
May 2020 · 49
new music
Ileana Amara May 2020
no one closes their eyes,
to see the one who can stop their cries

no one covers its ears,
to listen to someone who can brush off their fears

no one shuts their mouth,
to save something that is heading down south

no one untangles their hands,
to intertwine with a soul who understands

no one slams their door,
to someone who embraces them when they're down on the floor

no one freezes their hearts up,
to someone who filled love in all its gaps

no one walks away,
only until they run out of words to say,
only until too much compromising causes dismay,
only until they contemplate if it's still worth their stay.

love itself is an unconditional give and take,
if it's unrequited, it's a fragile heart at stake,
people don't choose who they love, they just do
lovers muster all their strength just to make it through

no one half-loves for it would be such a mediocrity,
so know the right time to bid a farewell and sincere apology,
love is a precious thing, but one must see their worth,
it's not selfishness, truth be told, it's always our last resort

take baby steps when you have had enough,
you may be limping and crying, alone in the tough
you might be disregarding your wounds just to run back
in the same old arms and hands that made your heart crack.

but again, take baby steps to heal, it's a process
with each step, smile, endure the pain, listen to the beat
weep and mourn all throughout for the loss and emotions suppressed
you loved enough to walk away when it was your heart to deplete

listen to the conjuring harmony of a new music in the making,
solely made from the footsteps you took, away from something that made you feel less deserving.

IA
We never wanted to but sometimes we had to.
May 2020 · 98
in quiet screams
Ileana Amara May 2020
who am I to hold you back
if you're bleeding to go
and I'm aching and screaming quietly
wishing you would stay?

IA β˜•
I think there will always be a time in our lives when we have to let go and accept that some people come and go like season changes.
May 2020 · 239
she
Ileana Amara May 2020
she
she breathes chaos
with a sophisticated beauty of a lady boss
fear the unpredicted, for she stops at nothing
when she desires something.

IA β˜•
I have been reminded of a beautiful piano piece I once played with a violin, entitled "She" by Charles Aznavour, the words of Kretzmer are also mesmerizing.
May 2020 · 102
lessons from longueurs
Ileana Amara May 2020
of black and white keys
I long to reach the end of this piece,
each finger mastered the proximity of notes,
of compositions filled of longueurs and musical anecdotes.

I must play this piece not to lull the audience to sleep,
put your head up, let your soul play, this is a lesson to keep
harmonize your hands with every touch and play
tame or ruin the instrument, don't mind what they will say

even if these longueurs take hours
or a dull eternity, play in the stage
until they applaud you with flowers.

IA
For BLT's word of the day challenge: Longueur.
May 2020 · 180
fallacy of love
Ileana Amara May 2020
when youths fall in love,
some venture a lifetime worth
of a love story to tell,
from youth to centenarians,
love never seems to die
love never seems to imbalance,
'til death do they part, with a happy sigh.

but some youths fall in love,
and venture young tragedy
losing themselves for temporary happiness
but who are we to take these away
if love is such a beautiful thing
that makes living life more worthy.

IA
May 2020 · 91
poetry is medicine
Ileana Amara May 2020
I breathe my soul out
like a wordsmith tinged with art
in poetry as a medicine,
deep thoughts lay behind each line
deep emotions are felt by each stanza

nobody prescribed me such
my soul just knew where and what it wanted
because poetry is medicine.

IA
May 2020 · 140
highly caffeinated
Ileana Amara May 2020
still the same old person
asking herself nearly 2 a.m.
do I get coffee or get some sleep?

IA β˜•
May 2020 · 338
nostalgic happiness
Ileana Amara May 2020
sometimes when reality
makes you sad,
the good memories of your past
is enough to make you happy.

IA
May 2020 · 51
healing & growth
Ileana Amara May 2020
"Maybe we are all one degree
and one strange encounter away from healing.
Maybe it isn’t something we don’t have to do alone,
just maybe all it takes is one person
to teach us the pain we feel right now
and everything we’ve been holding on to for this long
is what we can let go of."
May 2020 · 163
Azazel
Ileana Amara May 2020
a gloriously beautiful man and angel
cast down to heavens
for his pride and rebellious streak,
sympathizing the tempting evil, Satan.

then is a fallen angel commiserating
the iniquity of a sinner who needed it most,
whose name and itself is a scapegoat,
to him ascribe all sin and darkness,
the corruption of humanity,
as he himself is chained
to the rough and jagged rocks,
awaiting the vicious torment,
just like a scapegoat sinner in dire need
of common humanity's prayer.

IA
Inspired by the words of Mark Twain, "But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?"
May 2020 · 191
woman undefined
Ileana Amara May 2020
someone in the room asked, "what is one thing
you would want to change about a girl?"
she turned her gaze, with a wine glass
wrapped in her delicate fingers,

"To be a woman."
her answer instigated the audience,
some stared at her, puzzled and confused
some who understood her,
looked at her intently intrigued.

"I sense a charisma of Athena,"
a witty man approached,
showing his well-sculpted physique,
"you're silver-eyed and daring."

she wasn't one for flattery,
"She's Helen of Troy,"
another man walked, cornering her
"bringing armies to heel with a turn of her head."

she flashed a daunting smile,
sipping the remaining blood red wine,
"I am no goddess, but a woman;
because to be a woman, is to be undefined."

IA
May 2020 · 136
the entropic universe of us
Ileana Amara May 2020
you write about the way it feels at the beginning,
like someone's airing up a balloon
inside your stomach
you write about urgency, that call across the wind
when you say his name
you become a scientist, a philosopher, an evangelist,
you theorize, you believe, you write:
"the universe recycles atoms and maybe yours and mine
were next to each other at the beginning",
maybe your collision was the Big Bang,
that kick started the entire universe,
maybe the stories are true
you write about the music
of suites and symphonies and operas
the notes that save your life
you write about when he looks at you,
it's the plucked strings of a guitar
the beating, resonant ***** in your chest.
you write about how you didn't want to fall
you didn't need anyone and you had plans
you were solid and unyielding and stable--
but he crashed into you..
and the world shifted under your feet,
you were Pangaea,
he separated you into continents,
you write about fear, and the warning signs
you chalk up to anxiety,
that inner sound bite you can't delete,
you dare to shout over it:
"I am -- brave."
"I am -- heartbroken."
here comes the letdown, the free-fall
of a thousand-foot cliff
all the way down, you write, philosophize, rationalize:
"The universe is moving toward entropy
so maybe we are an inevitable disorder,
meant to dissipate into nothing
"I do not/
am not matter."

Bang.

you smash into the ground,
you are blood and broken bones
heart in shreds, nothing catches you
you write: "If none of it was real.."
that dizzying drop, one second to the next
all in your head, you don't understand
and you'll try to figure it out, try to define
but it's all fragmented memories and crossed out lines
still, your hands will continue to type,
and through blurred eyes, you'll write.

IA
I dug upon my poetry journals and stumbled upon this one I wrote when I was fourteen.
Ileana Amara May 2020
maybe if I try to write,
I would feel sincerity again,
drowning into the pages and lines
of truths and fallacies,
maybe if I learn how to dance,
all doubts will shed along with pain,
maybe if I sing a song,
I can compose and express but not to please
maybe if I paint an artwork,
I would accept having you as my lovely subject,
in sceneries of memories, at the stroke of tender nostalgia
maybe if I interfere in the duel of both my mind and heart,
one takes over freely and I venture a new start.

but who am I to even stand armor-less,
battling against the uncertainties?

IA
May 2020 · 72
1:42 a.m.
Ileana Amara May 2020
write me a poem so deeply weaved,
sing me a song that I may learn how to live,
I'm torn in the war of both my mind and heart,
dwelling on the inked pages of crafted thoughts and art.

IA
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