"elena" poems
Gemini are notorious for having “split” personalities, and I am no different. I have two sides of me that are always at war within me.
Both the Devil and the Angel within me are trying to influence me, in the form of thoughts running through my head that makes it seem like i'm talking to myself.
I emphasizes on the fact that my character is composed into two parts, the ‘angel,’ the one that wants to do good not only for myself but also for others, and also the ‘devil,’ the selfish, more arrogant division in my persona that drives me to do things that’ll make me stray off the path of righteousness.
Elena and Katerina, which again connotes the incredible duality and polarity of my character. Even though it seems like they’re almost two different people, they’re most definitely one whole character.
My inner good realized what I am doing is dangerous, but my inner demons insist on coming out at night. When I say “not closing the curtains”, im showing the real dark half of myself.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
Dear Elena
dear Elena, do not give your heart to anyone. not everyone deserves it
dear Elena, keep your heart and your most beautiful feelings for the indicated or someone worthwhile
dear Elena, hide your purity
dear Elena, take care of yourself. Nobody breaks you, no one breaks your purest feelings
dear Elena, be careful in this ***** world, beware of these twisted people
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 6:11 AM UTC
Just like Goddess Kali
I am feared when not
understood
my enemies know my loving passion are my kids
those demons slander me
fearing the mother
goddess in me
I gave life and inadvertedly heartbroken waived it
I give life
birthed my children
against all adds
motherhood apeaces me
injustice enrages my dance
I am Goddess Kali Karijin
~~
Precious daughters
Elena Rose Jeanette fear not
I save I protect I write
it's my frenzied dance
surounded by demons ferocious
you and me won many a
gruesome wars
to protect you three your
children alike my light
I have deamed
Remember Mother Kali
I love you miss you
more and more
and for you my life I lay
~~~.
The goddess mother
(excerpt)
~estranged from kids ~
~~~~~~
"The stars are blotted out,
The clouds are covering clouds,
It is darkness vibrant, sonant.
In the roaring, whirling wind
Are the souls of a million lunatics
Just loose from the prison-house,
Wrenching trees by the roots,
Sweeping all from the path...
The sea has joined the fray,
And swirls up mountain-waves,
To reach the pitchy sky.
The flash of lurid light
Reveals on every side
A thousand,
thousand shades
Of Death begrimed and black."
love & motherhood apeace me.
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
inspired
by Hindi ink Durga-Kali
Shiva Lord's Wife
revised 06-5-19
~~~~
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 11:27 PM UTC
The legend said that there was a boy in the mid 800 who begged everyday to the Sun God That his black eyes could be blue as sapphire. In Africa every person of the region had dark eyes, but he felt he wanted to have light blue eyes so someday he could go with the sky Gods and be their helper and trainee. The only requisite was to have blue or gray eyes; for them these two colors meant purity and identified the only ones who could meet them. Shmuel wanted it, but that meant he was going to go away from his house and live his family forever, because once you go and see a God you can’t return to Earth nor have contact with humans again. After years of begging to the sun, he accepted it, and turned his eyes blue as sapphire. The day he had to go was sad; all his community was in his house saying goodbye to him. Everyone since then called him “the child with the sapphires eyes”. He knew that earth and his family were history already. Before being introduced to the Gods Space he turned back his head once again and saluted with a smile all his community. Since then his mind was erased and a new Shmuel was created. Now he served these Gods, and as an apprentice he would turn to be like them in the future.
Elena Ramos
Short Fictional Story
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
A la Humanidad
ELENA RAMOS
Ciertamente todos buscamos lo mismo
Poder, Dinero y Fama
Ser mejor para ser escuchados por todos
Tener dinero para poder comprar a todos
Y tener fama para ser reconocidos por todos
No podemos pretender ser supremos ante civilizaciones a las cuales somos exactamente iguales
Tenemos rasgos distintos, dialectos variados pero
Al final somos iguales
Esperamos un desastre para poder unirnos
Uno en el cual tengamos miedo de morir y ser derrotados por fuerzas mayores
Talvez debamos esperar ese fenómeno que cambie a la humanidad
Algo que jamás hayan podido ver nuestros ojos
Un desastre natural que acabe con todos
Una plaga que nos destruya lentamente
En la humanidad hay mucha corrupción, hay desastres creados por nosotros
Hay guerras santas, hay asesinatos planeados
Porque?
Por poder, dinero y fama
Somos invencibles en nuestras mentes, pero que pasa si afuera de nuestra visión
Hay algo más grande que todos juntos
Una fuerza invencible, un poder sobrenatural que en cualquier momento decida destruirnos
Talvez sea suerte o sea el destino
Si decidimos separarnos a diario
Si creamos más violencia
Si hay más separación de naciones
Si hay más hambre
Más infestaciones, más personas mueren a diario
Es inevitable es un proceso natural del hombre
Pero, aceptémoslo más muertes son causadas por nosotros mismos.
Soy tan humana como todos ustedes
Es un acto de paz y un pacto de unidad
La raza humana pierde su escencia
De ser capaces de analizar y ser luz
Somos ciegos y egoístas
Un ego que saciar
Un espíritu que alimentar
A base de mentiras, engaños y sacrificios
Ser pobre o rico
Tener todo o ser nada
Ver morir pero no actuar
Decidimos sentarnos a ver lo que pasa
Pero porque no somos parte del espectáculo mejor?
Organizaciones a diario luchan por cambiar el mundo
Fotos de acontecimientos que impactan un rato
Después son desechos que olvidamos por lujos y mentiras
El humano se convirtió en el monstruo más grande que deberíamos temer
Esa sencillez de aceptar el fracaso
Inhumanos ante las crisis de los demás
Muertes por ganas de poder
Muertes por religión y creencias
Si crees en algo, créelo
Pero
Piensa si va en contra de ti y de tu generación
Dos bandos iguales peleando por ser más notorio
Sangre derramada para demostrar grandeza
Lujos para despilfarrar
Lugares hermosos que son destrozados
El hábitat humana dejo de ser para los humanos
Nos convertimos en cosas materialistas
Sin propósitos de vida
Luchemos para ser iguales
Sin distinción de raza, **** religión, política...
Constantemente decimos eso
Pero realmente se cumple?
Si eres humano y lees esto
Piensa que estás haciendo en este momento
Estas cambiado para bien a tu humanidad?
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
Elena receives a secret message from God
"Keep quiet and listen to Bach, kid"it said
She was so cross with God at first,naturally,
"The old man is cold, I won't listen to his
new commandment" she averred
as she wanted to annoy Almighty as much
as, a retaliatory measure.She felt good,
pleased, she fell silent for a long, long while.
Quickly she realized she obeyed His word
and by that time her ranting and raving
had fully come to an end.
"Oh! my God!"
in astonishment she thanked God,
for making her feel better though she was
thoughtless and horribly blasphemous.
"What a crafty old geezer God is"she grinned.
yes,her defiance was intentional,but it was
as God willed,how intelligent His designs are!
"Oh! Bach! she remembered his words
she ran to fetch a record.Hey presto! it's there
right at the top of the heap, as God willed, of course,
while 'Christmas Oratorio' of Bach sweeps her off her feet,
Elena feels elated, as if the hands of devine, embrace her tight.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC
Si può o non può avere sentito un po 'di qualcuno di nome Kelly Clarkson sono sposati lo scorso fine settimana .E il suo matrimonio?Total .TOTALE .Svenire .Le nostre LBBers talento ultra dietro Archetype Studio Inc. ha fatto gli onori di catturare il giorno e stanno dando a noi anatre poco fortunati una sbirciatina a tutti la bella .
e dire la verità .un piccolo sguardo a Tennessee fattoria matrimonio di Kelly è tutto quello che dobbiamo sapere che siamo con tutto il cuore in amore .Non siete d'accordo
?
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Prima di testa fuori nel fine settimana .abbiamo pochi vincitori super speciale !
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
You beautiful
Gave me the most beautiful
Muslimah names
I am honoured
And it aww of your beauty
And your goodness
My original name
Elena sound terrible
Compared to the you delicate
Flower have given me
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 2:02 AM UTC
A Fist and A Jaw
To Elena, for your strength
I.
I seem to draw my body close,
Into itself, into the ground,
To center myself,
My weight in search of some
Sort of gravity.
Fire lit palms burning symbols
Into my cheek,
Branding and marking,
Territorializing me,
Claiming the parts that belonged
To you, and the ones that
Belonged to me.
Your hands rolled into
Rock fists pummel
At the curve of my back,
Tracing lines down
My spine and I shiver
At the rainstorms
You trickle down on me.
II.
Your fist met my jaw today
And I can still taste the blood
That wafted in the cracks
Of my tongue,
Filtering slowly
Down my throat,
Back into me.
I didn’t want to lose
Any part of myself to you
Or your thundering fists.
I never knew till you
How easily bones
Could be turned into dust,
How simple it is
To snap the concreteness
Of a body,
How effortlessly anger
Can manifest itself in
Hands, and bats, and feet.
I’ll never forget the life
That grew in me,
And how it traced lines
Down my thighs
And rested in dark pools
At my feet,
My fingers dripping,
And our carpet absorbing
The hands and heart
And eyes and smile
Of the life that should’ve
Grown in me.
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 3:25 PM UTC
Her face was eye catching,
A round face smiling at him.
Her lips curved beautifully,
Like arched bows aimed to release,
But he couldn't help but wonder where he'd seen her before.
For he knew that smile,
He did,
He knew he'd seen her before,
Somewhere,
Somehow.
It was Elena
The love of his life,
His soulmate.
His Pretty Woman, Sabrina and Allie.
A woman who surpassed both Athena and Scheherazade in wit and beauty.
He flashed a smile.
Her face was eye catching,
A round face smiling at him.
Her lips curved beautifully,
Like arched bows aimed to release,
But he couldn't help but wonder where he'd seen her before.
He just couldn't remember.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
...and there it is.
That smile I remember
The way one remembers green
Waves pounding
Wet rock
Outside Warrnambool, Australia.
Friend so beautiful and thoroughly
Good; angelic/demonically opposite.
I must have been equally good
And beautiful in some earlier life;
Surely not in this
One.
So you prove that kharma is real.
I dread to imagine who you were
Last lifetime, having
Blossomed like this in this one.
Diamond laughter.
Eyes that view the world the
Way a child witnesses its first
Circus; clowns, dancing elephants
And all.
Italian queen of Norway.
Born to conquer,
Knowing nothing but love
And anything else worth
Knowing.
I bow unto no man,
Yet the dusts before your
Feet carry the print of my humble
Forehead.
Every tree you touched recalls.
Even within the space between
The things you do and
Don't, there are graces and the breaths
Of Gods.
You mirror the unreflectable.
Never stop laughing.
That sound might very well be the
Glue that keeps this dimension
Attached to the heart and
Soul of
Itself.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
The most painful experience
Isn't losing someone
It's the moment you realize
You've lost yourself
- Elena Gilbert
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 5:02 AM UTC
Once I met this guy,
in a hot night summer.
We both in the beach.
Sitting side by side.
We just known each other for like,
maybe 10 minutes.
but, he trust me enough to tell his whole life.
He dreams about that star.
He named that star, 'Ariel'
He says, Ariel only appears on a summer.
and every summer, he spends his night to talk to Ariel.
He says, Ariel is his guardian angel,
Ariel brings luck and love.
Ariel brings him to Elena.
He dreams about Elena.
a **** brunette he met on Summer 2008.
He says, Elena really brighten up his day.
She's his first love,
they spend their summer love in this beautiful beach.
they only 18 and stupid. they don't know much.
then she left.
she left without a words.
and it really broke his heart.
but he's survived.
Ariel listen to him in a quiet.
Ariel may not give any advice or motivation to him,
Ariel maybe billion miles away from him,
"but, Ariel always there.."
he says,
"who need chicks if I already have Ariel?"
*"you know, I can dance all night with Ariel.
I can laugh, I can sing, or I can cry with Ariel."*
,he says.
He says,
every time he look at the sky,
every time Ariel wink at him,
He feels like everything is okay.
everything is complete.
He fall in love with Ariel.
He fall in love with a star.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Cogiome sin prevención
Amor, astuto y tirano:
con capa de cortesano
se me entró en el corazón.
Descuidada la razón
y sin armas los sentidos,
dieron puerta inadvertidos;
y él, por lograr sus enojos,
mientras suspendió los ojos
me salteó los oídos.
Disfrazado entró y mañoso;
mas ya que dentro se vio
del Paladión, salió
de aquel disfraz engañoso;
y, con ánimo furioso,
tomando las armas luego,
se descubrió astuto Griego
que, iras brotando y furores,
matando los defensores,
puso a toda el Alma fuego.
Y buscando sus violencias
en ella al príamo fuerte,
dio al Entendimiento muerte,
que era Rey de las potencias;
y sin hacer diferencias
de real o plebeya grey,
haciendo general ley
murieron a sus puñales
los discursos racionales
porque eran hijos del Rey.
A Casandra su fiereza
buscó, y con modos tiranos,
ató a la Razón las manos,
que era del Alma princesa.
En prisiones su belleza
de soldados atrevidos,
lamenta los no creídos
desastres que adivinó,
pues por más voces que dio
no la oyeron los sentidos.
Todo el palacio abrasado
se ve, todo destruido;
Deifobo allí mal herido,
aquí Paris maltratado.
Prende también su cuidado
la modestia en Polixena;
y en medio de tanta pena,
tanta muerte y confusión,
a la ilícita afición
sólo reserva en Elena.
Ya la Ciudad, que vecina
fue al Cielo, con tanto arder,
sólo guarda de su ser
vestigios, en su ruina.
Todo el amor lo extermina;
y con ardiente furor,
sólo se oye, entre el rumor
con que su crueldad apoya:
«Aquí yace un Alma Troya
¡Victoria por el Amor!»
971
Bien puedo yo pintar una hermosura,
y de otras cinco retratar a Elena,
pues a Filis también, siendo morena,
ángel Lope llamó de nieve pura.
Bien puedo yo fingir una escultura,
que disculpe mi amor, y en dulce vena
convertir a Filene en Filomena
brillando claros en la sombra escura.
Mas puede ser que algún letor extrañe
estas musas de Amor hiperboleas,
y viéndola después se desengañe.
Pues si ha de hallar algunas partes feas,
Juana, no quiera Dios que a nadie engañe,
basta que para mí tan linda seas.
932
For some reason i always have the mentality of not being capable of becoming someone someday. I didn’t have any confidence in myself. It was sad because I have the capacity, but I let my mind act and not my heart. The Art Institute, everytime I hear this word I feel something hard to explain, is in my chest, like when you are in love but just that this is nt the case. I will explote my talent not only achieve my goals, I will give the 1000000000 extra mile instead of just getting in my goal. Miami is perfect because of the location, it will be easier to travel to my country because I do care about family and moral values. Even if a son or daughter left home to study abroad somewhere else, doesn’t mean that she or he is free at all. We can do anything we want, but, we choose if good or bad. Parents are our best friends, they will never lie to us! They never did it with me, I had big dreams, but they help me to figure out how possible they where. I really need an scholarship, because my parents are getting older, and the last thing I want it to be a heavy rock on their way, school is not money loss but inversion, even thou I want to help. Art is a word I will never be afraid of saying, is my favorite word. Art is like trippy, because trippy images are never following one same pattern, they are always colorful and crazy and different. My art is trippy, is original and unique that why it makes me so different. I believe in the value every single person have. Art will never be wrong, just that we should know and prepare to what type of audience we want to have. Expectators will be haters or lovers, but that’s not a reason of falling.
“My way wont be easy, because I don’t know it still. I just know I want it.” –Elena Ramos
I love writing poetry not only because is trending in twitter but because of how trending it is on me, my soul. Unexplicale feelings, salad tears, breakable emotions, but inspiring soul. I will continue even if haters hate. I will be a lover who loves.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
The splitting of years was spent in a small room with a lovely group of nine people, surrounded by smoke and the sounds of the nineties.
Elena, with her laughter infused with gold.
Liam, with his thick dark curls.
Fritz, with his polite disregard.
Jonah, with his Iron Maiden shirt.
Kelly, with her eyes of nature.
Hannah, with quite understanding.
Erin, with her love of all things beautiful.
Dylan, with his smile of a deep purple.
Dennis, with his acid fried heart, still beating with love.
Beautiful people and beautiful dreams.
Here's to a beautiful year.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
I
I have seen an
Aztec owl, kissed by the eternal
kaleidoscope of morning,
robed in Yellow air
Light escapes its hungry beak
and joins the Sun in harmony,
break of day rekindles the brickwork of archaic memory,
The Owl has lantern eyes which have witnessed innumerable births,
-and the cultivating of this cherry-wreathed Valley, where we eat and
write music for the soil's tender womb
Opal condolensces for sleep
and sadness, the Owl gifts a necklace embroidered with apology, coiled 'round your neck, in times of gladness and tragedy
II
...and do not fear, for cradle, ring, and tomb
all repeat in cosmic fashion
(you will eventually return here, to the sea, you always have)
Remember the attic where youth was stored away, to be replaced with exotic patterns, coral bulbs, cotton and laughter
There, lay a glasswork child for your chest to keep safe. Your past. Your past of plums and skirted dancers, desert glow, Caribbean sleep.
(your mind rests its quiet curtains, but the classical radio station can still be heard)
III
An owl of sunset mosaics
enters your dream, illuminating
the revisitation to a Mexico City
that was flooded for Mountains
..soon to recede and quake, when Winter's spirit fades once more, there you will unearth
Tenochtitlan.
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 11:41 PM UTC
Elena despertó a las dos y cinco,
abrió despacio las contraventanas
y el sol de invierno hirió sus ojos
enrojecidos. Apoyada
la frente en el cristal,
miró a la calle: niños con bufandas,
perros. Tres curas
paseaban.
En ese mismo instante,
Dora comenzaba
a ponerse las medias.
Las ligas le dejaban
una marca en los muslos ateridos.
Al encender la radio -«Aída:
marcha nupcial»-,
recordaba palabras
-«Dora, Dorita, te amo»-
a la vez que intentaba
reconstruir el rostro de aquel hombre
que se fue ayer -es decir, hoy- de madrugada,
y leía distraída una moneda:
«Veinticinco pesetas.» «...por la gracia
de Dios.»
(Y por la cama)
Eran las tres y diez cuando Conchita
se estiraba
la piel de las mejillas
frente al espejo. Bostezó. Miraba
su propio rostro con indiferencia.
Localizó tres canas
en la raíz oscura de su pelo
amarillo. Abrió luego una caja
de crema rosa, cuyo contenido
extendió en torno a su nariz. Bostezaba,
y aprovechó aquel gesto
indefinible para
comprobar el estado
de una muela careada
allá en el fondo de sus fauces secas,
inofensivas, turbias, algo hepáticas.
Por otra parte,
también se preparaba
la ciudad.
El tren de las catorce treinta y nueve
alteró el ritmo de las calles. Miradas
vacilantes, ojos
confusos, planteaban
imprecisas preguntas
que las bocas no osaban
formular.
En los cafés, entraban
y salían los hombres, movidos
por algo parecido a una esperanza.
Se decía que aún era temprano. Pero
a las cuatro, Dora comenzaba
a quitarse las medias -las ligas
dejaban una marca
en sus muslos.
Lentas, solemnes, eclesiásticas,
volaban de las torres
palomas y campanas.
Mientras
se bajaba la falda,
Conchita vio su cuerpo
-y otra sombra vaga-
moverse en el espejo
de su alcoba. En las calles y plazas
palidecía la tarde de diciembre. Elena
cerró despacio las contraventanas.
895
I thought after I had my own place,
I'd finally have girls in my bed,
the kind that read in coffee shops.
But after too many failed apartment getaways
and 2,346 miles of stories
that could brim a hundred journals,
I'm in my old room
with the same songs and
the same parents, with
the same questions
about the same girlfriends who
have new boyfriends
with new cars,
more money,
more testosterone.
But they won’t walk out of a job
with both middle fingers in the air,
towards the road.
It won’t even enter their minds.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
nausea pulsating glumness
sits swollen in my belly.
half-curled on a stained couch,
chins bubbling in bed,
i listen to elena croon
as lovers and friends slip,
newborn ghosts in my hippocampus.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 5:11 AM UTC
April showers
bring with them atomic flowers,
strewn about Elena’s hair,
her forest painted
the colors of Red Square.
Children play in the fun zone
where radiation particles
are active and windblown,
forming flakes on rosy cheeks,
floating down toxic creeks.
The smell of graphite burning in a kiln
makes the nostrils flare,
what’s this metallic taste in the air?
Clouds drift over weddings
and Ferris wheels,
rain falls black and surreal.
Mother goes about her routine
humming dirges like a godless fiend.
36 hours to figure the science,
past time to evacuate
a city in brisk silence.
Brides scream and children cry,
from the fall-out they mummify.
Pripyat’s dying metropolis
they euthanize and lay to rest
in a sarcophagus.
And atop her shallow grave,
deep within the exclusion zone,
sit the sickened stems
and decaying fragrance
of nuclear flora over bone.
Here in the jackal's sanctum,
a capsule car on the lifeless
pleasure wheel
swings like a pendulum,
over a wooded lot with not a soul in sight,
only fresh morbid blooms
that glow in the night.
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
Portal To Infinity
for Yuri Gargarin
respectfully
by
Jude Kyrie
*The explosion erupted like an inferno below him.
Not a naturally religious man he prayed to his maker.
Then the rush as he lifted off from the sweet earth
At the edge of the atmosphere an invisible barrier
Eons old untouched by mankind but not this day.
As he moved into orbit he saw the wonder of Mother Earth below.
The first words uttered by our species in the vacuum of space
"I see Earth! It is so beautiful!"
He witnessed the Earth for a single orbit
Over Africa the ground control shut of his engines
And he re-entered the earth’s atmosphere
With no power to slow down the craft.
He ejected above earth and parachuted to fame
As The first man in space the pioneer of space travel
When the American astronauts landed on the moon
In July 1969 the crew left a commemorative medal bearing his name
Warmth of mutual occupation and respect melted the ice of the cold war
From Russia came this special man
Thank you Yuri Gagarin*
Author Notes
On 27 March 1968, while on a routine training flight from Chkalovsky Air Base, he and flight instructor Vladimir Seryogin died in a MiG-15UTI crash near the town of Kirzhach. The bodies of Gagarin and Seryogin were cremated and the ashes were buried in the walls of the Kremlin on Red Square.
Gagarin was survived by his wife Valentina, and daughters Elena and
Galina. Elena Gagarina, Yuri's elder daughter, is an art historian who
has worked as a director-general of the Moscow Kremlin Museums since 2001.[25] His younger daughter, Galina, is department chair at Plekhanov Russian Economic University in Moscow
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC