Between rhyme and howl dangles a fragile world, a mundane egg of art: where words dance and display and are not prose because prose is not fit for frame or stage... My husband found some of my old poetry in a box in the back room when we were decluttering our house. He asked me if I wanted to save it. As it turned out, I did. I wrote these in September and October of 2003, shortly after I'd discovered I was pregnant with our second child. It is now my autumn. I am not young; I no longer bear fruit. But here is a memory of summer. My tree once blossomed.

Arbusta iuvant humilesque myricae. Forse è una citazione azzardata per un autore amatoriale, ma la cosa che ho sempre adorato delle parole è proprio il loro modo di concedersi a tutti con dolcezza indistinta. Humilia arbusta è la mia prima consapevole raccolta di versi. Si tratta di opere scritte in momenti lontani tra loro, senza l'idea di farne una raccolta unitaria. Forse per questo, adesso che mi sono imbarcato nell'impresa di riunirle mi rendo conto di quanto siano eterogenee. Non amo definirmi poeta. Sarebbe un titolo troppo grande per uno come me che al cospetto di Dante non potrebbe che tremare. Non sono un "poeta laureato" dunque, ma mi azzardo ugualmente a pubblicare una raccolta alla quale ho cercato di dare almeno una parvenza di ordine tematico, invece che semplicisticamente cronologico. A grandi linee la raccolta è divisa in tre parti: Poesie a qualcuno(1-10), che sono prevalentemente poesie d'amore dedicate, Finali(11-16), riflessioni sulla mia visione dell'amore fatte a posteriori della conclusione di vari rapporti, e infine Variazioni(17-24), un insieme molto eterogeneo di componimenti, sia per stile che per tematiche, che per la maggior parte svolgono una riflessione sulla mia idea della vita. Grazie a Silvia per la copertina http://ghironda.deviantart.com

This is for those who lost or found their voices. This is for those who could and could not breathe. This is for anyone who is stuck or escaped the dismal abyss of all-consuming emptiness. This is a reminder; a representation of the hardships we collectively face in our separate lives, on opposite parts of the globe. A gentle nudge to the fact that change is constant. Whether it is positive or negative, the outcome depends on you. Only you hold that power to be able to see beyond and into your future. Make it count. I promise you, it is worth it.

scribbling and saving those flash flood feelings

~ where have the stars gone?

~ of thoughts that keep me awake at night and let me sleep at day

who is this ritu kid and what does he want with me?

It's a little dusty here, it's a little dry. Nothing more than my life experiences all intertwined.

Midnight Poems is a collection of raw, haunting thoughts-written in the quiet hours when sleep won't come and the dark feels a little too honest. These aren't your typical love poems. They're messy, aching, and sometimes a bit twisted. If you've ever stayed up too late thinking about everything and nothing, this book is for you.

Just a collection of poems I've written because I recently started getting into poetry. Basically me having an identity crisis and thinking it's cool to write it down lol. Thank you! Also side note, some of these are written from personal experience, and some are written because I like to think about other people's experiences. So idk enjoy or block me because I'm weird or something. Anyway :)