Who I Am, Volume 3

Who I am, Volume 3

A Collection of Poems by Ileana Collazo

Me+You=1 | Ileana & Miguel Collazo | Digital Portrait

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I paint with words and write with images

The Dawn of Time | Ileana Collazo | Digital Drawing

At the dawn of time, the visual arts were born, holding their breath until words joined them. Together, they move the senses with a reckless force only matched by nature. I sometimes blend the two to create a unified experience, and at other times, I let them forge their separate paths. Music, the elusive ghost, often accompanies me in my creative journey.

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Table of Contents, pg. 1: 2025 Poems: A Landscape so Entangled A Lone She-Wolf A Monolith so High A Place I Cherish A Space Between Humans Ageless Beauty Angel Wings As I Age As My Journey Unfolds Birth Right Call to Disarm Coalescing Complexity Corporal Punishment Crystal Forest Destiny Different Places Don’t Fret Down a Path so Narrow Dread Each Storm Carries a Memory Empty-handed, Broken-hearted, and Defeated Fear Flying Like Birds From the Outside In, from the Inside Out Headed Home History’s Shame Homage to my Stillborn Sister I Believe I did not Leave You I Still Love You Impermanency In One Heartbeat Incapacitated Inside My Brain 4

9 10 11 13 14 15 17 18 19 20 21 23 24 25 26 27 29 30 31 33 34 35 37 38 39 40 41 43 44 45 46 47 49 50 51

Table of Contents, pg. 2: Let the Sun and Moon Accompany You Mother My Truest Self Nothing is more precious than Love Shared Nothing Left to Fear One Leaf One Misstep One More Miracle One More Spin Reality Reminiscing Reprocess Seconds on a Clock Sequestered or Abandoned Shameless Simple by Design Slack Tide Slowly Drowning Society’s Child Someone Who Still Loves Me Stamped C Survivor Take One Step, and then Another Tangled Thoughts and Rage The Absence of Sanity The Arms of Adversity The Easy Chair The Forest of my Dreams The Game can’t be Won The Last Few Days The Last Gift The Last Good-bye The Last Sermon The Long Walk The Proper Place The Show The Silence of Youth 5

52 53 55 56 57 59 60 61 63 64 65 66 67 69 70 71 73 74 75 76 77 79 80 81 83 84 85 87 88 89 90 91 93 94 95 97 98

Table of Contents, pg. 3: The Sleep I won’t Wake from The Storm The Womb The World Those Things that Never Happened Tumbleweed in the Wind Two Children Left Behind Unaware Uncertainty Under a Full Moon, I Wait Undying Love Until the Break of Day Waiting for the Answers Waiting for the Final Truth Watching the World Change What Love was When the Rain Came When We Meet Again for Always Whirlwind Wilted Roses With Each Blink We Fade Words Wrong Turns Abound Yellow Roses

99 101 102 103 105 106 107 109 110 111 113 115 116 117 119 121 123 125 126 127 129 131 132 133

Artworks: Me+You=1 | Ileana & Miguel Collazo | Digital Portrait The Dawn of Time | Ileana Collazo | Digital Drawing On Her Way to… | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Single Bloom Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage If I had Wings 1| Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Coalescing | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Washed Out Memories | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Alone with Her Thoughts | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Lola Dressed in Silk | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Lady on the Hill at Night | Ileana Collazo | Digital Drawing 6

Table of Contents, pg. 3: When all the Years Melt into One | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage My Heart | Ileana Collazo | Digitized Acrylic on PBC Board Desolate Soul |Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Rain or Shine | Ileana Collazo | Digitized Acrylic on Canvas Human Woman | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Pondering | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Looking at Herself | Ileana Collazo |Digital Collage Upside Down Waterfalls and Drowning Souls | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Pausing at Night |Ileana Collazo| Digital Collage Watercolor Garden | Ileana Collazo | Digital Watercolor A Sigh that goes Astray| Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Caught in the Matrix | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Collaboration My Inner Child | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Smoldering with Grief | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Frozen in Time, Lost in Thought | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Waiting for the Answers | Ileana Collazo | Digitized Mixed Media Searching for Myself | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage When We Meet Again for Always | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Waiting for the Light of Dawn | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Stealing Roses | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collazo Weightless | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage New Landscapes | Ileana Collazo | Digital Deconstruction My Grandmother Garden | Ileana Digitized Acrylic on Paper The Scrapbook of My Mind | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Lady in Pink | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage If I Had Wings I Would 8 | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Florida 2025

On Her Way to… | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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A Landscape so Entangled by Ileana Collazo It is difficult to see ourselves for what we are without concocting visions of who we want to be that do not quite depict who we’ve become.

Illusions of purpose and reason constantly alter and falter as our bodies and minds grow and develop, peak and decline, as we fight to the end until we die.

In our short lifetimes, we entangle ourselves with the world and with others, trying to figure out what it all means while everyday life drowns us as we battle to float in an ocean of heartbreak and struggles.

For minuscule periods, we presume it all falls into place, and then, we take one misstep, and everything comes tumbling down as tears and frowns take the stage, pushing our smiles aside.

Confusion and disarray are the main staples of life as we constantly struggle to put things back in their place, to piece together a puzzle of a landscape so entangled.

The heartache we often feel, sometimes overcome by fear, chips away at our resolve; battered by the passing years, that make our efforts futile and turn our dreams into dust.

Wednesday, April 23, 2025 Miami, Florida

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A Lone She-Wolf by Ileana Collazo For all of my life, I have made it my mission to look deep inside my heart to dig for those emotions that make me feel alive in a way that connects me with the world around me.

Not the human world, but nature, for I do not mesh with humanity.

I cannot read their vibrations like I can a flower, butterfly, bird, or tree; or a blade of grass that silently cries when it is kissed by morning dew.

I am a lone she-wolf who loves her mate, her cubs, her tribe, but cannot run at their pace or see through their eyes.

A wildflower who likes to dance in the wind and feel the rain soak my petals, which later dry in the sun.

A night bloom that looks up at the moon and counts the stars.

A hummingbird that flutters as it drinks nectar and swiftly wanders off.

Saturday, July 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

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A Monolith so High by Ileana Collazo It enrages me to think that those who go down in history never learn that what they did impacted so many lives and carved new paths for those who want to follow in the footsteps of the great applying themselves to the task of learning from their mistakes and absorbing all the knowledge that pushed them over the line that divides those who just live from those who climb to the top of a monolith so high that they can see paradise.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Single Bloom | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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A Place I Cherish by Ileana Collazo There is a place I cherish that no one else can enter; tucked in a corner of my brain, its walls adorned with crystal diamonds.

It needs no locks and keys, for no one knows it’s there.

As I stand at its altar; hands by my side, eyes open wide, my heart throbs inside my chest, breathless from running from the threat of the ghosts I left behind who are waiting for the chance to once again taunt and haunt me as they burn the sacred bridge that I am supposed to cross to set my aching soul free.

I watch them and sigh; feeling their pain from afar, hearing their hoarse moaning drown as they sink into the ground smoldering in their own dust.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025 Miami, Florida

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A Space between Humans by Ileana Collazo There’s a space between humans that can stretch and contract from one single step to an abyss.

Those we grow close to, then fall out of step with, who used to love us, and now loath us.

A war breaks out where fondness grew.

Burning a long trench that smolders everything in its rocky path.

No logic, no reason; just blistering hatred that wounds deep inside with merciless callousness that leaves ugly scars.

One ponders and sighs; lamenting the loss of so many moments erased by their wrath.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Ageless Beauty by Ileana Collazo When I woke up this morning the first thing I saw was an image of you twenty years ago; all dressed up.

At a Mother’s Day lunch at an outdoor cafe; you looked radiant.

Your mustard yellow dress, your jewelry, your make-up fighting hard to compete with your dazzling demeanor that age could not diminish.

You have been gone so long, yet your face is so clear in the image my mind conjures.

I feel a pain enveloped in reverence that will stay with me always as I wait for the day when I join you again elsewhere.

Sunday, May 11, 2025 Miami, Florida In memory of my mother, Felicia Berta Canovas, and all the other mothers who have left us but are never forgotten.

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If I Had Wings 1 | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Angel Wings by Ileana Collazo Does it matter how I arrived at this juncture in my life?

Too sick, too tired to point fingers at anyone.

Too shocked to complain or blame myself for things I did or did not do.

Ready to shed this cloak of grief that I have worn for too long and dress myself in silk and velvet for the trip that I will soon embark on by myself.

No jewels, no shoes, no vestiges of life, I will lie motionless until my soul; the only thing that will be left alive takes flight to that elusive place called Heaven that has been waiting for me my whole life.

Rendering the happiness and grief I have endured a dumbfounding and useless waste of time that will soon be forgotten and disregarded as others take my place for their rotation.

Unless my energy goes to recycling and vestiges of me return to be another version of who I once was with fuzzy hints of my many past lives; returning to a world that does not want me, with the only reassurance that too soon it will be time for me to leave again to bounce back and forth until I finally pay all my debts and earn my angel wings.

Thursday, April 24, 2025 Miami, Florida 17

As I Age by Ileana Collazo As I age, my time compresses; my days and nights seem much shorter, the months and years become warnings that I am headed the wrong way.

That the good times are behind me, where my youth, so full of promise, seemed like it would last forever.

Now, the sound of a clock ticking fills me with dread and remorse for all the moments I wasted, for all the hugs and the kisses I failed to give to those loved ones who one by one left my side.

Sometimes I make myself think that they are walking beside me, while other times I am sure that they are waiting for me.

But uncertainty and doubt quickly erase my resolve to believe in all those things I trusted when I was young; when I believed in small miracles that now seems so impossible.

Wednesday, April 23, 2025 Miami, Florida

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As My Journey Unfolds by Ileana Collazo As my journey unfolds, I watch it unravel like a spool of yarn a cat has pulled on; a yard of silk that was cut from the roll to make a long, thin scarf to conceal the marks left by time and all the hands that strangled me as I tried to flee from a life that did not suit me.

As I carry on without looking back, I know that my past is stored in a velvet box where it needs to stay; as my future yearns to join it.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Birth Right by Ileana Collazo I open my arms wide and look up at the sky to receive my birthright to ask questions; without fear of punishment or retaliation, without being judged by my peers who are themselves sinners that hide behind verses written in a book that was never meant to be a tool to disparage others.

To plant fear inside the hearts of those too weak to understand that faith is meant to be kind; not a tool controlled by a few that lie for the sake of power, and see themselves as the chosen while their mothers rot in hell if they did not get the chance to be taught the golden rule: that no matter what you think, you can never speak your mind.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Call to Disarm by Ileana Collazo As I prepare for the next stage of my life, I wear no shoes and no pearls.

The bare necessities are all I need, and that excludes greed.

My inner body wrapped by skin and bones, protecting that which cannot be withheld from elements that claim it as their own and urge me to return it to its origin.

I yield to their firm call to disarm, and float up to a place where I feel cold before I start to sense nothing at all as my will and consciousness dissolve.

Sunday, April 25, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Coalescing | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage 22

Coalescing by Ileana Collazo As my youth and my old age coalesce into a milky pond overrun by dry brush I can no longer see my face on its surface.

Instead, forced to draw my own conclusions about the meanings scribbled by the shadows of the clouds and the trees that hover over it.

Standing a bit crooked because my gait faults as I try to maintain some sense of balance in a world that is twirling so fast that the vertigo makes me dance with a partner, I can’t see.

Who spins me around as my ears ring and my eyes try to focus on the ruckus that so unsettles me as I try to remain unraveled.

May 17, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Complexity by Ileana Collazo Complexity is the ravenous beast that gnaws our tranquility until it punctures our raw nerves; sending spams down our spine.

Making our heads spin and our stomachs churn until we find ourselves embroiled in all the things we spent half our lives avoiding, and the other half submerged in because we grew up to be what we are not.

And the not-so-distant past suddenly feels so far away as we sway from the pendulum of time, which refuses to stop.

In a breathless rush, we scurry dazed and spent, like an empty vessel that once held holy water that purified our souls as we traveled and searched through those early years when simplicity reigned.

Thursday, May 1, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Corporal Punishment by Ileana Collazo Waiting for another round, I fret expectantly for my name to be called; for the door to open and close behind me as a voice without a face guides me.

No choice, no preferences, no time to change my mind, I unwind and roll into a ball, so tight, that the pain becomes impenetrable.

But if it finds a way to bite me, I try not to fight, for I know it will subdue me and the hurt will be all the more intense and sorrowful.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Crystal Forest by Ileana Collazo On this cavernous rock, I sit very still with my hands tucked under my legs, staring at the giant hawk that hovers over the crystal forest.

As the big yellow ball shines brightly above my head until the ball made out of cheese shoos it away and hangs luminous in the India ink sky until a thick cloud swallows it and all the crystals in the forest fly high up to the cosmos and turn into twinkling stars.

Friday, April 11, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Destiny by Ileana Collazo There is nowhere I belong in the vastness of this space.

As they expand, I contract, while they squeeze me by my ribs.

So little room I take, such boundless spaces they demand.

Nothing is ever enough, and none of us is out of reach.

Undoing what had been done, dismembering what was whole, without regard, with disrespect; spitting on the holy ground where gods and saints used to tread as they were cheered by the crowds that have now been knocked out by the heavy hand of clout.

To start my life in regret and end it in disbelief is far from what I had learned from the holy books I read.

Friday, April 11, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Washed Out Memories | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Different Places by Ileana Collazo I cannot tell you how I feel because we are from different places; have different mindsets, come from different universes.

I feel conflicted and dejected, while you feel angry and inflated from rage swallowed in big gulps you need to spit out and stump on.

Overlooking that your boots crumple everything in sight; including the fiddle heads that sprout from the summer ferns, which I pick early each morning to mix in with mushrooms and greens and make the meal we eat at noon sitting by the primroses that bloom along the edge of the porch.

You frowning, and I smiling; because I refuse to fall into a bog filled with mud when the brook that runs nearby is singing its favorite song and inviting me to join by humming a happy song.

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Don’t Fret by Ileana Collazo Don’t say goodbye, let’s pause and sit outside our garden of regrets with our backs turned.

Our eyes fixed on the great expanse of land that spreads before us as we hold hands and muse about the things that we have done without a thought about what is to come.

We don’t know, because each turn we take is a mirage that will be gone along with our last breath as we blink and prepare for the next.

Don’t fret, let every moment roll down the steep hill that takes it to the place where they all rest.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Down a Path so Narrow by Ileana Collazo I travel deep into the night down a path so narrow; with an empty chest, because my heart was ripped out.

My vacant eyes assessing my surroundings, my foggy brain re-arranging my reality.

Non-sensical babble reaches my ears, and I am perplexed; it is I who I hear.

Everything held dear has dissolved into a puddle of deep regrets that have sunk to its bottom.

The sun will soon rise with its golden tulle cape to try its best to help me disguise how I feel.

Saturday, May 17, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Alone with Her Thoughts | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Dread by Ileana Collazo It swallows me in one gulp; the dread that assaults me like a rapist that attacks in the middle of the night.

Tearing at the fibers that dress my soul, staining my pure thoughts with insulting ideas that pollute my ears with the whispers and the murmurs of an incoherent fear that pushes all calm aside and shatters my dreams like glass; leaving me, trembling and helpless, to face another dark day.

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Each Storm Carries a Memory by Ileana Collazo Each storm carries a memory of earlier storms and bygone times.

Every raindrop that fell, every thunderbolt that growled at my grandmother’s farm, down a New England path, during hurricane season, when a conflict arose threatening to blow away the house.

There are storms of the elements, and storms of the mind when the wind howls so loud that our ears bleed out and our heads spin so fast that we lose our footing holding on to the past as paint peels and cement crumbles.

When the quiet returns, and the sun again sparkles on the wet blades of grass, shock and awe are replaced by a deep reassurance that behind every storm there is the calm that soon follows.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Empty-handed, Broken-hearted, and Defeated by Ileana Collazo To feel incapable of reaching out and pulling someone we cherish from the hell that has engulfed them; watching in horror as they sink into despair and realizing the damage can’t be repaired.

The years of suffering have torn a rip so deep that one can peek into eternity from there, and see the hopelessness of those who never healed; the awful darkness that no light can penetrate.

The irony of a life, given and taken, tucked in between sickness and despair, turned a bright soul into a specter that roams mad through all the narrow corridors of life.

With bowed head, mourning the soul that has been lost, we kick up pebbles as we walk down the long road as we return to the place where it all began; empty-handed, broken-hearted, and defeated.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Lola Dressed in Silk | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Fear by Ileana Collazo Fear, why do you hold me so dear?

Why can’t you just let me go?

You drink my tears like wine that was squeezed from my heart’s vines; where the grapes grew plump and juicy to be stumped by the fat feet of the devil that lies waiting right outside my screaming soul.

You feast on my leftover lips, where my smile used to sit wearing my teeth as a crown as I pranced by with abandon.

Like a prowler, you stayed hidden waiting for that one wrong step so you could grab me mid-air and take me back to your den where you have kept me since then making me pace, whine, and fret while you sit watching the show.

Friday, April 11, 202 Miami, Florida

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Flying Like Birds by Ileana Collazo Don’t read about me, read what I wrote.

Don’t search for my photograph, look for what I created.

What I wore, ate, or drank; where I live, with whom, and how is not always a reflection of what roams inside my mind.

From which I tear the words and bleed out the colors that give life and meaning to my most amazing dreams.

I deem myself ordinary but never dull.

Never daring but always searching.

Trying to catch the thoughts that fly into my brain like birds that lose their way and are trying to escape a dwelling that became their temporary cage.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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From the Outside In, from the Inside Out by Ileana Collazo Bit by bit, I’ve come undone; from the outside in, from the inside out.

A frightened child without a home who grew up too soon.

Now old, I roam frightened and confused, as the storms that rage whip me into shapes I never fathomed I would take when I thought I knew who I was.

The pain that crawls inside my chest comes from the places I have left that I once called my own, but are now gone.

Daydreams transformed into night terrors of ghosts that haunt and taunt me as I sit helpless on the rock of memory’s so distant shore waiting for the tide to roll in and bring back what it took.

But the sun, bitter and despondent, dried out my deep blue basin.

My seashore turned into a desert, the seashells all bleached out.

Scattered on what is now a wasteland devoid of life and nourishment.

Monday, July 28, 2025 Discovery Day Miami, Florida 39

Headed Home by Ileana Collazo I slide my finger down the imaginary line that runs alongside my life; from north to south.

It is so fine.

A shadow in the scope of time that runs downstream back into an ocean that will claim me.

Such subtlety and grace infused with scents; like pots that boil over when they’re stirred.

And light, let there be light; as radiant as the sun that never dies, and luminous as the moon that at times shines, obscuring all the stars up in the sky.

As I arrive, I cry my salty tears from deep inside; that I collected when I was a part of the blue basin to where I now return.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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History’s Shame by Ileana Collazo I hear the footsteps outside, and I recognize the sound of merciless stumps on the ground.

I crouch, like I did long ago when they came to take away our due right to stake our ground in the land that our ancestors once stole from innocent souls who trusted the faith they brought; feigning they were saving souls while disarming and dethroning them.

No respect for those who opened their humble homes to the clergy who spat on their ancient Gods burned their homes, and took their women, with such heartless disregard.

As merciless souls abound, I find myself in the midst of another senseless war that adds to history’s shame.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Lady on the Hill at Night | Ileana Collazo | Digital Drawing

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Homage to My Stillborn Sister by Ileana Collazo I never knew you, but sometimes, envy the quiet path you took.

The rosewood box you chose, like a small crab selects a seashell, and calls it home.

Inside our mother’s womb, we floated; I for nine months, and you for eight.

But while I saw the light of day crawl through the window at my birth, your limp body entered a world you had already left.

Friday, May 23, 2025 Miami, Florida

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I Believe by Ileana Collazo I believe that life unfolds while we sit and wait for miracles.

While we fold our hands and pray, hold our breath, and shed a tear.

We are born from the unknown, walk an uncertain path, travel through elusive time, end up turning into dust.

Pain and joy are intertwined, embracing us in their vine, pricking us with their sharp thorns, adorning us with their blooms.

Sunday, April 6, 2025 Miami, Florida

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I did not Leave You by Ileana Collazo I did not leave you; I walk beside you down the same streets, to the same riverbank.

We grew apart and could not reconnect, but I did not love you less.

You were the storm and the calm; the beauty that appeased my beasts.

But the monsters that haunted me, and the distance that divided us made it all too hard and all too sad; and the pain just drowned me.

The ravine that claimed me, for a while, called out to me, as I skirted around it all those sunny days.

But the storm outside fueled the storm inside, and I took one step, and then another.

Don’t fret, this was not about you.

It was about things that came before you.

Now I am free to guide you, to witness every dream you bring to life with silent reverence, listen to the songs you write for me, guide your hands as you play the piano, and shoo away every fiend that haunts you.

Thursday, April 10, 2025 Miami, Florida 45

I Still Love You by Ileana Collazo You fall asleep as I wake up from a dream-riddled slumber that follows me into the days that sometimes bring me grief.

I hear you late into the night, wrestling with ghostly shadows, and wish that I could stay awake to help you fight your battles.

But Stardust sprinkled in my eyes by hands, I cannot see propel me into a dark tunnel from which there’s no escape.

Sometimes we meet at noon, others at midnight, and that short time is quite enough to whisper, I still love you.

Thursday, April 10, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Impermanency by Ileana Collazo Don’t cry when I die, this event was planned before I was born; the day and time, a secret that sometimes incenses me, while others I almost forget.

I have fretted about the injustice of my expiration date, questioned the reason and logic for being cooked inside a womb that spat me out when I outgrew it into a world that doesn’t want to keep me.

An adored child, bestowed with youth, discarded sometime after by a being I never met that I’m told loves me enough to gift me eternal life in a place no one has seen where bliss and kindness await me.

Fragile pawns in this chess game, we all suffer the same fate; moving on a velvet board until a voice shouts, Checkmate, and onto the floor we tumble, cold and inert.

A sad and senseless game no one escapes.

Molecule cocktails concoct birds, flowers, butterflies, and everything else that lives that, too soon after, spent and discarded, decompose, and turn to dust as all energy is sucked out of the once vital life forms, different from a rock; which are sent back for re-purposing, without reasonable cause.

Sunday, April 20, 2025 Miami, Florida

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When all the Years Melt into One | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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In One Heartbeat

by Ileana Collazo Like a slow current, each minute carries me further away from all the things that once were mine, and now belong to bygone times.

I sigh, and the grief bubbles deep inside, as each breath turns into a sigh, and my eyes turn into glass lakes fed by the tears that I hold back.

Too late for regret, too soon to forget, too helpless to act, too broken to change.

I sit and watch the ferns that grow around the tree my father planted so long ago, which has withstood such fierce storms.

Like it, I try to hold on to my roots, as wind and rain batter my core, and hopes and dreams fall like dead leaves to become part of the same soil my young feet treaded when I prayed for all of the things my life became, that came and went in one heartbeat.

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Monday, July 7, 2025 | Miami, Florida Incapacitated by Ileana Collazo One blade of wild grass growing at the edge of a ravine, is the only green thing around; clinging to the soil, swaying in the breeze.

Thirsty for the rain, which has not come for days.

A nearby stream meanders through the trees carrying fallen leaves to the waterfall that pours into the basin of the waterhole where she often swam.

A loon yodels, as another one flies by.

A squirrel scurries through the brush, hurrying up a branch; stopping for a moment, to munch on a seed.

At home, she opens her eyes and ponders walking up the path to her favorite place.

Then she remembers that it has been years since all that she can do is turn her head and mourn.

Saturday, May 24, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Inside My Brain by Ileana Collazo Inside my brain, so cavernous and twisted, where muffled sounds tumble like rocks down a ravine, no vestiges of light can shine.

My eyes take in the light, so bright that it brings tears, while I attempt to drink the wine meant to absolve me.

It is bitter-sweet and pungent, with traces of a flower I plucked on Sunday morning from someone’s unkept garden.

Monday, April 7, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Let the Sun and Moon Accompany You by Ileana Collazo While you run around in circles, everyone around you sits dressed in black leather and silk, taking sips from their wine glasses while vertigo makes you weep.

So, please, step away from the crowd and observe their interactions.

Watch them ignore your endeavor to become someone they value enough to share in your efforts to create a bond that fairs in the face of the adversities that arise as we walk through all the passages of life that, shared, become much less bothersome.

If they don’t respond to you, do not waste your time grieving those who do not earn your grace.

Sit on the newly mowed grass, sipping from your own wine glass; eating strawberries and cheese off a shiny silver platter while the breeze kisses your cheeks, and the sun and moon accompany you.

Sunday, May 18, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Mother by Ileana Collazo You lie so motionless and frail, your lips so thin and pale; your hand so cold as mine rests on it.

Your chest as still as calm lake water when the wind is not blowing.

The quiet hums inside my head in tandem with my tears as the moon streams in through the window from which you watched the hummingbirds when you no longer strolled the garden where orchids hugged tree branches and the grass tickled your bare feet.

Our lives together, all those memories, filed in the scrapbook of my mind will keep your essence so alive.

For one last time, as my heart aches, together we spend a quiet night.

Tomorrow, when the sun returns, you will become a mirage as I am forced to strip your bed, and shut your bedroom door behind me.

Sunday, April 13, 2025 Miami, Florida 53

My Heart| Ileana Collazo | Digitized Acrylic of PBC Board 54

My Truest Self by Ileana Collazo When I write, I am my most authentic self.

So many stories I have started wait patiently for me to breathe the life they want me to impart into their frozen embryos.

As aging takes me for a ride into a world I cannot fathom where there is no assurance, dreaming awake keeps me in check when I am pulled to places that dull the senses and protect me from a senseless world.

I stand alone in this regard, with my words in my pockets, while many of those that surround me can only see torn paper.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Nothing is more Precious than Love Shared by Ileana Collazo Before I arrived, you planted wildflowers on each side of the round stone path, and dressed the windows with the muslin curtains we bought at the small shop that has since closed; along with the cafe where we both sat the day before I left, so far away, that everything I knew was a mirage, and all the plans we made went astray.

But now that I am back, it all came back.

The tenderness and patience that you showed when my mind was too cluttered to respond, and my heart beat too fast for me to stop and run into your empty open arms, that waited all these years for me to learn that I could not replace the life we shared, and nothing is more precious than love shared.

Monday, May 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

56

Nothing Left to Fear by Ileana Collazo I have nothing left to fear, except where, when, and how’s, mixed with a few more details that makes it not as bad, or worse.

All I have to do is wait.

The moment will announce itself, unless it catches me off guard; which paints the best picture of all.

I should not sit with my legs crossed, and my arms hugging my chest, because each moment I waste will be a moment I’ll mourn when in some stark, desolate place I may end up after I leave I’ll have no option but to grieve the seconds that I threw away.

Monday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

57

Desolate Soul |Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage 58

One Leaf

by Ileana Collazo A leaf looks at the sun until it can no longer see it, bidding it farewell in case it does not return tomorrow.

Under a full moon, it falls to the ground, where darkness finds it and hides it until it turns brown.

The tree, unaware of its departure, is too busy making more of them to worry.

But the worm that chewed its edges is aware, because it also tumbled to the ground, and has to take the long trip up the trunk and find another leaf to sit upon where birds do not uncover its disguise and make a meal out of its shiny body before it gets the chance to go to sleep dreaming about breaking through the cocoon that shelters it until, for a short stint, it dazzles as the Monarch Butterfly.

Sunday, May 18, 2025 Miami, Florida

59

One Misstep by Ileana Collazo One misstep, and I am dead.

Lying on a gurney inside a drawer is not what I had planned to do today; but there goes fate.

One minute I am standing at the curb, the next, I am flying in midair; everything else became a blur infused with pain.

The pulling and the pushing, the prodding and the shoving was of no use; so they gave up.

I heard them call the time, my time of death, felt all the blood drain down to my feet and watched them as they walked away.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

60

One More Miracle by Ileana Collazo The world had a quiet cry this morning; its copious tears drenching everything.

The sun came out a short time later and drank the teardrops on the grass and flowers.

I sat watching nature at work; its invisible fingers pulling the strings, even as the rain and sun seemed unaware.

The puddles, reassured by their depth, believed that they would be immune; the sun, cognizant of its strength, knew it would soon dry their beds.

Before I realized it, everything was back in place; the morning sun smiling, the butterflies fluttering, the birds flying by chirping; and I, keenly aware that I had witnessed one more miracle.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

61

Rain or Shine | Ileana Collazo | Digitized Acrylic on Canvas

62

One More Spin by Ileana Collazo When I was a child, I used to love going to the amusement park and riding the carrousel until my stomach churned from going around in circles; and my head spun as the horse bopped up and down.

My mother watched me from the sidelines; patiently waiting, smiling, waving.

Sometimes she asked if I was ready to set my feet on solid ground; walk around, give the bump cars a try.

But I would always shake my head.

The butterflies inside my stomach, the world, a blur as I swung by, enticed me to take one more ride.

Nothing has changed.

That craving for the disarray that overtakes me as I brave another round around a life that spins until I hit the ground and bumper cars roll over me; bruising my ribs, busting my lip, while no one watches over me.

Monday, April 28, 2025 Miami, Florida

63

Reality by Ileana Collazo How can I do better by you?

When I can’t do better for myself?

The thoughts that float inside my head, dripping with dreams and hopes, are always sprinkled with doubts.

Silent threats gripping my throat, consistently increasing pressure as inch by inch I walk forth into the realm of the unknown.

It turns light, then it turns dark, as I drag the days and nights with hands calloused by the effort; so futile and so worthless, because at some point, I know, I will drop down on my knees and fall face down on the dirt; crawling with worms, waiting to eat my flesh to the bone.

Sunday, April 13, 2025 Miami, Florida

64

Reminiscing by Ileana Collazo Though I cannot return, each leaf that falls where I am reminds me of late autumn.

Chilly walks in the woods infused with brilliant colors that shimmer in the sun.

Nights by the fireplace, wrapped in a cozy blanket, staring out the window.

While tree branches undress, and stand in silent poses as the frost bites their core.

Tuesday, September 25, 2025 Miami, Florida

65

Reprocess by Ileana Collazo As the castles crumble, and the men are laid to rest, the women sit on their thrones, weeping.

Thunder rumbles, tearing open a sky too dry to shed tears.

What is left is covered with a dusty layer of forgotten memories wrapped up in regrets.

When there’s no one left to fret, the sun expels its last breath, the moon crumbles like blue cheese, and all the stars crash and burn.

With everything put to rest, darkness goes to sleep unaware that its womb is readying to give birth.

Sunday, April 12, 2025 Miami, Florida

66

Seconds on a Clock by Ileana Collazo I feel conflicted about having brought you to this place; where I have to leave you behind.

I can neither stay nor take you with me; I don’t know if I can watch over you.

The grief, interlocked with the joy, for all the years we’ve shared, and all the memories we’ve made, float like clouds in my mind as I chase after them at night in dreams so real that I am sure that time turned back.

For those few hours I relive our past, that sometimes feels like a mirage, or some invented tale I wrote to reassure myself that we are more than seconds on a clock.

Sunday, Mayn18, 2025 Miami, Florida

67

Human Woman | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

68

Sequestered or Abandoned by Ileana Collazo Do you prefer to be sequestered or abandoned?

Each script bears its drawbacks as their subplots spit out dialogues that weave tight knots that intertwine and rip to draft the senseless babble that dribbles from the mouths of an uncensored cast.

The feeling of being sequestered, brings the threat of being devoured by a fiend that haunts your hours waiting for your next misstep.

The feeling of being abandoned, akin to the pain of being ripped out of a warm womb that expanded to make room for us until birth.

Monday, April 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

69

Shameless by Ileana Collazo How long can a secret haunt us?

Hiding in the recesses of our mind, popping up when least expected; catching us off guard.

If we tell it the wind, will it take it far away?

Will the echo soon return and crawl back inside our heads?

If you find out by mere chance that your hero was a coward, that he could not use restraint even when it was so vital.

Was his need so overwhelming that he could not look away?

Had he so little willpower that he did not feel ashamed about breaking all the trust that you put in him, regardless, of all the reasons why you knew that he was not a safe bet?

Sunday, April 20, 2025 Miami, Florida

70

Simple by Design by Ileana Collazo If you know of another way out, I will follow.

This door is narrow, and the squeeze is tight.

I am supposed to see a light, but I only see darkness, hear sounds, but it is dead quiet.

As I poke my head and grope with my hands as far as I can reach, I only feel an emptiness that slips through my fingers.

Cold and silent; I guess this must be it.

Simplicity with a serving of disappointment.

Disappointment, grown from reaching a luminescent span unlike the one in our dreams, that goes on forever and ever.

Simplicity, grown from the Enlightenment that we are not at all what we presume to be.

Monday, April 28, 2025 Miami, Florida

71

Pondering | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

72

Slack Tide by Ileana Collazo I sit patiently awaiting the news that will come in due time, while everyone else around me frets and fusses in despair.

I don’t know why I am calm, I should be the frantic one, but my brain is like an ocean sitting so still at slack tide.

If the tide changes, I might bring up a flurry of foam that will push my deepest fears to the far side of the seawall.

But, for now, I feel at peace with the tranquil spot from which I wait for fate to disclose what my future will unfold.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

73

Slowly Drowning by Ileana Collazo I am overcome with dread.

The strange world that surrounds me is not the one I was born into, or the one where I was young.

I have no proof, but everything around me has changed like dreams turned into nightmares that kick my shin as I sleep bringing me down to my knees, even as I lay so still that my breath ruffles like the feathers of a dying bird that flutters as I struggle to discern why have I been left behind in such a turbulent surf to slowly drown as I gasp.

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

74

Society’s Child by Ileana Collazo No longer free to speak for fear of being singled out, I click my tongue and bite my lips until I find myself in a safe space where no one else can hear the shouts that escape my throat as I am made to watch the carnage of a world that has turned bitter while everyone decided civility no longer matters.

One life is better than the other, color and creed make up the list of who is kept, and who is discarded.

A child looks into her mother’s eyes and asks why.

Her mother, solemn face stained with tears, opens her arms and holds her near.

There is no valid reason why, except that those in power rule, while the fools that give them that right end up crushed under their boots.

Monday, April 28, 2025 Miami, Florida

75

Someone Who Still Loves Me by Ileana Collazo Senseless attacks out of nowhere make me wince in despair as fear creeps deep into my heart.

A little deer in the forest, I feel myself getting small, curling into a tiny ball where I can hide from my assailant and lick the wounds that got inflicted.

When I am done, I close my eyes, diminished and exhausted; aware that it will return like a bad dream that keeps recurring.

I try to hide as best I can, but it will always find me because the one who harms me is someone who still loves me.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025 Miami, Florida

76

Stamped C by Ileana Collazo Singled out from the crowd, a C stamped on my forehead, I am thrown into a heap of discards to be crushed like tree stumps that are turned into much that adorns the gardens of the ones who rule the land.

I was born into a world that turned bitter without warning, and no matter where I go there is no safe place to hide.

There is no good reason why it is I they choose to target.

I have not hurt anyone, I am so gentle and quiet.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

77

Looking at Herself | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

78

Survivor by Ileana Collazo Floating on a churning sea on a much too narrow plank; remnant of the boat that sank when the storm was at its peak.

I shriek each time I hear a sound, or perceive that a dark shadow, cutting swiftly through the water, is inching closer to me.

All that liquid, while my lips crack open and bleed from thirst; the sun that scorches my skin, leaving me to freeze at night while the moon creates white patches that move around like the ghosts of the ones that did not make it and come to take their revenge; not because I caused them harm, but because they have gone mad from the numbing fear that gripped them as their lungs filled up and burst; pupils popping from their sockets, bellies bloating with the brine trapped inside their dying bodies until they become the prey of bottom dwellers that feast on a meal so unexpected, tearing each one piece by piece until there is nothing left.

Sunday, April 13, 2025 Miami, Florida

79

Take One Step, and then Another by Ileana Collazo Take one step, and then another; step down from the Merry-go-round you have been riding for years hoping for the knight in shining armor, who rides the white horse behind you, to grab you by the waist and fly you to his castle in the clouds; and lock you up in the tower where you will stay, spinning gold, until your long hair turns silver, and your heart shrivels and dies.

Tuesday, May 20, 2025 Miami, Florida

80

Tangled Thoughts and Rage by Ileana Collazo Crouching in a corner of a room, in an unfamiliar place; no crucifix, no prayer book.

Waiting for the light that does not shine as my ears ring and my heart thumps.

Uncertain about how I got here, confused about when I arrived, unable to find a way out.

My tired limbs stinging with pain, my lips dry and cracked from the thirst.

From far away, I hear sounds; echoes of moaning and growls that fade away, scraping the walls.

As I sense the struggles of a soul that’s drowning; that I know is not mine, and I feel the sadness of a mind that’s caving from the weight of carrying tangled thoughts and rage.

Friday, April 25, 2025 Miami, Florida

81

Upside Down Waterfalls and Drowning Souls | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

82

The Absence of Sanity by Ileana Collazo The silent voice that whispers in your ear, the one that makes you angrier than mad, repeats the litany it has for years as it knows that you will never yield.

Rejecting is learning to ignore; reacting is learning to defend.

The deepest roots entangled in despair, poison the tree from which you pick the fruit, while you pace back and forth inside a room with windows that are barred and have no handles so that you cannot flee from the small cage they put you because they ascertained that your brain sickened, even as you tried, to tell them that it is not you, but they, the ones who turned your world into a place where your soul burned before it was absolved.

Saturday, May 24, 2025 Miami, Florida

83

The Arms of Adversity by Ileana Collazo Tossed into the arms of adversity, that hug me so hard that my ribs crack, I dismiss any notion of redemption; any vestiges of civility.

In such an unruly place, everything vain and insane becomes the sacred, and everything sacred gets tossed into receptacles that fill to the brim with all those things that should be kept, but that are too soon forgotten.

Thursday, May 1, 2025 Miami, Florida

84

The Easy Chair by Ileana Collazo Life can be hard, so we came up with the concept of an easy chair; not too soft, not too hard.

That reclines when we feel that we are about to pass out from an awful day that threatened to break our backs and crush our spirit.

Finding comfort in its warmth, we close our eyes and sigh, hoping that we can dissolve into its leathery substance and forget that the world is right outside our door waiting for the chance to take us on for one more round.

Sunday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

85

Pausing at Night | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage 86

The Forest of My Dreams by Ileana Collazo Walking through the forest of my dreams, I encounter my nightmares growing entangled and twisted, resembling the menacing fiends from my childhood’s fairy tales.

I quicken my pace, refraining from looking back, pretending that I don’t see them, as I bend to pluck a flower and bring it close to my nostrils so that its perfume can soothe the unease inside my heart; a dart that punctures so deeply, leaving a wound that will bleed long after I have returned to the place where I now live where nothing I do has meaning and no one cares about me.

Sunday, August 24, 2025 Miami, Florida

87

The Game can’t be Won by Ileana Collazo We are urged to nurture our enthusiasm, to thrive in the face of adversity, to march on when it all seems impossible, to press on to surmount the next hurdle.

But how do I forget that the road is short and narrow?

That I am finite, that the gales of life that batter us always blow us away in the end.

Of course, sometimes my focus heads elsewhere, to the land of dreams where all is there; at my fingertips, to stroke and nurture, while reality stayed behind somewhere.

Until the shadow truth that always stands nearby appears before me to remind me that no matter how hard I try the game we all play can’t be won.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

88

The Last Few Days by Ileana Collazo Walking through each day, pausing each night, I arrived at this juncture; where the light grew dim, and the sounds faded, becoming faint whispers.

I sense movement all around me, as I lie still with no will left to once again pick up the pace and keep going; but I have not arrived.

I see a vast expanse, and a hand with no arm motioning, while a buzz inside my head warns me; as I hesitate in this blank state, demure and unsure about my next course of action.

Days and nights pass, and my body feels frozen; though I am not cold, as a thick sheep’s wool blanket has been neatly tucked around me.

For one moment, I flutter my lids and stir a commotion, as if I have done something everyone around me has been breathlessly waiting for; but I can’t sustain the effort.

One tear that will never roll down my cheek pools in my eye, as a total void engulfs me, and I feel nothing as everyone around me fades and my last daydream disintegrates like a wall that crumbles burying me in its rubble.

Sunday, April 20, 2025 Miami, Florida

89

The Last Gift by Ileana Collazo Seated on the wooden bench, you carved for me as your last gift before you left; the place you knew I’d sit and weep, I long for spring, when the gentle rains come, and the newborn flowers melt into a watercolor garden reminiscent of the days when time strolls unhurried; as life rolls down a gentle hill that leads to ledges overgrown with moss and tiny crevices that harbor unsuspecting worms that feed the birds that perch on the tree and the windowsill.

Alone and despondent, I cannot help but wonder, what coaxed you to desert me when you knew that it would break me.

Friday, May 23, 2025 Miami, Florida

90

The Last Good-bye by Ileana Collazo We practice all our lives, but never learn to say the last goodbye that is so final.

When we know that it will be the last time the person that we love will cross our path.

The pain of that one moment stings the heart; with a poison that erodes but does not kill, causing a wound that festers until the day we take our last breath while praying that, once again, they will be near, and the sadness we carried for so long will melt away like the snow in the sun as daffodil bulbs once again bloom.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

91

Watercolor Garden | Ileana Collazo | Digital Watercolor 92

The Last Sermon by Ileana Collazo The dissolution of the self happens in stages, as chunks of time that roll off our shoulders and slip to the ground without a sound.

The more we walk, the less we cry.

As our focus must remain on the road ahead as it meanders through the landscape.

No map and no compass; just a force that prods us, and an urge that drives us even as we know that the closer we get the more insignificant we become; and the louder the bells the nearer to the church where we will hear the last sermon.

Saturday, April 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

93

The Long Walk by Ileana Collazo I walk alone through the forest of my dreams where the seasons pass never to return.

Born in winter, while the frost clung to the trees.

Skipping through spring, where butterflies fluttered while birds chirped.

Feeling the nakedness of fall, where so many dreams fell off and the cold winds bit my cheeks.

Now, closer to the end of the road, all the seasons melt into a collage of memories that clang as they crash against a mind that flickers like a bulb left on too long.

But still turns on until one day it fades.

And all that I have seen grows dark, and my beating heart turns to stone.

Wednesday, September 17, 2025 Miami, Florida

94

The Proper Place by Ileana Collazo I am flawed because I never reached my full potential.

I am free because I never tried to.

Immersed in the workings of my mind; tending to my inner garden, letting all the wild things grow.

Plucking propriety and anxiety, refusing to pull bluegrass lilies to replace them with long-stem roses.

Letting the grass grow past my ankles to weave a soft blanket to lie on as the quiet born from solitude allows me to give my thoughts the proper place they deserve to burst with fragrance and color.

Monday, April 28, 2925 Miami, Florida

95

A Sigh that goes Astray | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

96

The Show by Ileana Collazo Do I want to stay and watch the end of the show?

The curtain is already half-drawn; I think I have seen enough.

The smooth dance moves, the roses tossed on the stage, endless applause for the crew of limber dancers that dazzle a crowd of us, who have grown, too tired to make smooth moves on a floor that has grown dull from so many years of stumping.

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

97

The Silence of Youth by Ileana Collazo The silence of youth that follows the scream of childhood is the soul’s rest stop as it prepares itself for a life full of shouting and fighting and cursing about all of the things that do not go our way.

Even when we are the ones who set our course astray, we pant and rage because we cannot accept that the things we planned flew away to a place we can no longer go to fetch them.

Alarmed and confused, at first, angry and despondent afterwards, we try to mend the ripped net through which our life dreams fell to the bottom of a bottomless ocean where they lie in a great heap with everyone else’s visions, with everyone else’s ambitions.

In the end, there is neither silence nor shouts, just a sigh that goes astray soon to become one more ghost that roams through life unencumbered.

Sunday, May 18, 2025 Miami, Florida

98

The Sleep I Won’t Wake Up from

by Ileana Collazo Unprepared and insecure, I embarked on a mission that has taken me to the seaside, mountain tops, and meadows; where I keep looking up at a sky that changes with each landscape I inhabit as I, too, change.

From daydreamer to skeptic, to all-knowing, to doubter; I have let my mind wander as I reject reality and embrace all the notions that protect me from facing that, shovel in hand, the future awaits me.

To erase all the plans I never executed, and blot out every trace of the things I accomplished to make room for those things that exclude me from a tale that forgets all the beauty I nurtured.

So, I fold all my wishes into a satin pillow to support my spent brain for the sleep I won’t wake from.

Sunday, May 18, 2025 Miami, Florida 99

Caught in the Matrix | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage Collaboration

100

The Storm by Ileana Collazo I sit helplessly and watch the monster licking your boots; the soot oozing from your flesh as you smolder in your rage.

I grieve for you, but you can’t grieve for me; encased inside a vessel that takes you to a place that no one else can enter.

My space contracting as yours expands; my screams strangled by your moans.

With no place to run, I quietly weep and wait for the storm to run its course.

Thursday, May 1, 2025 Miami, Florida

101

The Womb by Ileana Collazo The womb is not just a place inside our bellies.

It occupies a portion of our brain where feelings are imprinted for posterity; and also rules the portion of our spirit where we house all the things that we deem holy, along with all the things that we most cherish.

This most intense primeval trait binds us to our offspring for eternity; long after all the dreams of being a mother become the struggles we never expected.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

102

The World by Ileana Collazo For so long, I have carried the world on my shoulders.

It is so heavy, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.

My knees buckle, my arms tremble.

My feet strain not to stumble, as I keep my eyes fixed on the horizon.

But I see nothing, other than endless space before me; that was once a meadow and is now a dessert.

I cry as I tread over this dead landscape where none of my dreams will survive the drought.

I can no longer hear the sounds of birds chirping and people laughing.

Like I did when I thought that all was possible if I tried hard enough to press forward.

Saturday, May 17, 2025 Miami, Florida Rewrite of a poem written initially in New England in the 1990s, which was lost in the shuffle of the last move that brought me full circle to the place I once again call home.

103

My Inner Child | Ileana Collazo| Digital Collage

104

Those Things that Never Happened by Ileana Collazo Failure spreads like a virus that infects everyone we love; turning joy into sorrow, leaving scars where there was beauty, turning innocence into wrath.

The pain that festers with regret stinks more than overflowing sewage that settles at the river’s edge, and kills the blooms that grew in spring when hope and joy walked hand in hand, and sun and moon lit up our hearts while we walked down a winding path that led us to a sandy shore where we sat, talked, and laughed until the stars began to twinkle, and we returned to our safe space where we ate, slept, and dreamed about those things that never happened.

Saturday, July 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

105

Tumbleweed in the Wind by Ileana Collazo Like a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, a tumbleweed in the wind, you stumble around bumping and scraping your skin.

You bleed, but you don’t stop; I call out, but you don’t answer.

In a space where there is no echo, I follow my shadow to a corner of my mind.

I curl into a ball, too bumpy to roll, as you rush by on your way to one more place where there is no sun; as the threat of another storm makes the air so thick that it is hard to breathe, while I cry waterless tears, shed inside a tired soul that refuses to give up on you.

Friday, May 30, 2025 Miami, Florida

106

Two Lost Children Left Behind by Ileana Collazo We pull hard on each other’s coat tails.

You need to leave, I have the urge to stay.

You struggle to breathe in a too-tiny space I inhale gulps of air in an outdoor haven.

Despair is the music we dance to.

All the things we need to do, lie in a heap by the door, while all those unfulfilled dreams turn to smoke when we approach them.

My piano music fills the air like liquid honey slowly dripping, as your hard rock bursts in spurts like thunder roaring nearby.

We mourn and celebrate each day, grateful for things that got half-done, angry about the things we shoved aside.

We eat, talk, shout, and cuddle.

Two lost children left behind by a world that moves too fast.

Saturday, September 27, 2025 Miami, Florida

107

Smoldering with Grief | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

108

Unaware by Ileana Collazo Sitting on a mound of mourning stress waiting for your life to change; but it won’t, and the mound grows taking you so high that the air becomes too thin and your thoughts become so foggy that you cannot grasp that the Earth has cracked and swallowed you as fresh dirt is shoveled over you, and silence smothers all sound.

Saturday, May 3, 2025 Miami, Florida

109

Uncertainty by Ileana Collazo What should I trust?

The recounting of the act, or what I feel in my gut?

Drowning in dread and despair I pace my brain back and forth searching for my soul so that it can help me find the peace of mind that I felt before doubt grabbed me by the throat until my eyes began to bulge as my lungs fought to find air I was unable to send.

If the answers never come, I will have to sit with grief and demand that it vacate the room it took in my brain so that I can once again invite peace to take its place and help me clean up the mess uncertainty left behind.

Sunday, April 20, 2025 Miami, Florida

110

Under a Full Moon I Wait by Ileana Collazo Under a full moon, I wait, for the stars that never come, as the fireflies hide in fear since the darkness went away.

But my heart could give them shelter because it turned into coal, black and brittle from the grief that choked it to the point of death.

The air is cool, but not cold.

The ground is moist from summer rain.

The rose bushes, full of blooms sparkling in the midnight glow.

While my thoughts, collecting dust, search for a way to escape as my words refuse to help them fly far away to the heavens where angels shelter them.

Wednesday, April 9, 2025 Miami, Florida

111

Frozen in Time, Lost in Thought | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage 112

Undying Love by Ileana Collazo As the years passed, I changed; from a blooming flower to an old hag.

From being beloved and admired to being discarded and forgotten.

But never by you, who views me through the lens of eternal youth; unearthed so many years ago.

In undying childhood love; that roots inside the unmarred heart sheltered by the innocence that nurtured it when it was born, our love still thrives.

As we intertwine our crooked fingers and slowly walk to places that have changed but in our minds, we retain the pure essence of all the times we tread with hurried steps in a rush to enjoy all of the moments we spent together as time took its toll.

Sunday, May 17, 2025 Miami, Florida

113

Waiting for the Answers | Ileana Collazo | Digitized Mixed Media

114

Until the Break of Day by Ileana Collazo I dread the sound of your footsteps approaching, and mourn the moment that they fade.

You were not coming to my side, and that brings sorrow, but your proximity brings pain.

Drained, I lie on the empty bed, where there is too much space.

Huddled close to the edge, to feign that I am not alone, and dream about that night in May when you brought me one long-stemmed rose.

I pricked my finger with its thorn, you grabbed my hand and wiped the blood before it slithered down my palm, then placed the rose on the nightstand, where it stayed all night long while I slept tucked inside your arms until the break of day.

Thursday, May 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

115

Waiting for the Answers by Ileana Collazo Sometimes, there is no sun when I first open my eyes in the early morning, devoid of the sounds.

The quiet is followed by the rustle of the bedsheets, As I rise and try to rejoin the world around me.

A day, somehow different from the one before but not quite enough for me to grasp it, beckons me to follow.

Barefooted, I walk out to the yard; no clouds, no rain, just a grey slab of sky that mutes the colors of everything in sight.

A dragonfly hovers nearby, unsure about its next task.

I sigh when I see the cocoons hanging from the branches where the caterpillars wait for their chance to become Monarch butterflies.

What shall I become?

Dressed in this old shirt, with my hair a mess.

Do I change myself into that other self I share with the world?

Or spend the day like the dragonfly?

Waiting for the answers that may never come, hiding from a life that will still unfold without me.

Wednesday, May 28, 2025 Miami, Florida

116

Waiting for the Final Truth by Ileana Collazo Waiting for the final truth, when there seems to be none, is something I have done since I was very young.

Thinking about the options; obsessing and rejecting every possibility for lack of validity.

Every explanation for lack of solid ground, each fairy tale woven out of fear.

Each question asked poses another question; as I run out of time to prepare myself for a final exit that can either be an end, a beginning, or the continuation of another chance at living for the sake of being alive; for one more chance to achieve the perfection that will set my soul free to become an enduring, incorporeal being that feels but does not need, and loves but does not fear.

Sunday, May 18, 2025 | Miami, Florida 117

Searching for Myself | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Watching the World Change

by Ileana Collazo Traveling through corridors sectioned off by doors made, not of wood, but bits of time that stay behind as we move forth through days and nights that, once so real, become the dreams which we can see but can’t return to.

Feeling deep sorrow for the loss, wondering if they were mirages.

The day we met the one we love, the walk we took down the church aisle that demarcated a new life that comes and goes like all the rest.

The dread that grows as the years pass is the awareness that too soon we will arrive at the last door through which we vanish, leaving behind all we have known, and those who shared our lives.

Sometimes the promise of eternity, others the portent of returning, appease the fear of vanishing, becoming what we cannot grasp.

But the uncertainty returns, as, all we can do is wait.

Watching the world change as we age, less, and less able to adapt as everything around us changes, and we remain the same.

Saturday, July 26, 2025 | Miami, Florida 119

When We Meet Again for Always | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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What Love was by Ileana Collazo There was a time, not long ago, when people did not look for love, but stumbled upon it as they lived their lives.

There was no effort put into the search for a mate who matched our zodiac sign, had a similar philosophy of life, liked tennis, cruises, and date nights.

Love was a spark that ignited like the fires that light our nights and keep us warm.

Love prompted us to do such things as walking in lightning-charged downpours while holding hands and jumping into puddles.

Saturday, May 24, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Waiting for the Light of Dawn | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage 122

When the Rain Came by Ileana Collazo The August sun scorched the tips of the leaves of the flower bush that bloomed by the front door; no storm in sight, no one at home to water the blooms that fell and crumbled.

The house humbled, offered them shade, in the late afternoon, But it was too late to save them.

When the rain came, followed by thunder and lightning, The house shook with dread as its old roof caved in and the piano split in half.

The piano bench sat and watched, as the place, once full of life, died from the heartache of abandonment.

All those things once held so dear, now succumbing to the rath of the elements that stole all the beauty they possessed.

Wednesday, May 28, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Stealing Roses | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage 124

When We Meet Again, for Always by Ileana Collazo One day, one of us will wake up and realize that the other is not there; and the tears will flow, the pain will blind us and the morning light will hide behind our despair.

It will take all of our will and might, and a stint of crying, and panting, and raging to tame the agony that chokes us and face the day that awaits us.

We will do it because every moment that passes will bring us closer to the day when we meet again, for always.

Sunday, May 25, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Whirlwind by Ileana Collazo Meandering through the meadow of my mind, searching for daydreams, I planted alongside the wild daisies that grew by the buttercups.

As my mind spins with vertigo that twirls me like a tornado; lifting me so high that I touch the sky with trembling fingers that flutter like my eyelids as I mutter words that sputter as they die in a throat that is so sore from shouting against the storm that falls from the angry clouds that drowns me as I lie helpless waiting for the light of dawn.

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Wilted Roses by Ileana Collazo Everything is temporary; ultimately, inconsequential.

As we inflate the trivial to make ourselves invaluable and quench the dread that taunts us while we tread muddy passages and steal the wilted roses left on the graves of souls who have long been forgotten by those who cried and mourned them.

Tuesday, April 16, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Weightless | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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With Each Blink, We Fade by Ileana Collazo The passage of time creates a vacuum, a black hole that we fall into, where memories become fireflies that guide us back to the past that we can see but can't reach out to.

The present, so impermanent, flies by as it barely brushes us on its way to join our yesteryears.

Each day and night, we strive to make our choices count, to shine as bright as stars in an overcrowded sky that renders us so small that with each blink we fade until the energy that drives us fizzles, and we become a memory in someone else’s mind.

Friday, May 30, 2025 Miami, Florida

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New Landscapes | Ilean Collazo | Digital Collage

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Words by Ileana Collazo These words I have been dragging behind me through several continents all of these years; smeared by the elements, transformed by new landscapes; but still as convincing as when they were born.

As the new words join them, they do not relent, secure that their meaning retain their face value like gold that is kept in vaults that are sealed to safeguard their worth.

Saturday, April 26, 2025 Miami, Florida

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Wrong Turns Abound by Ileana Collazo One life littered with remnants of unfinished things that paved the path I have walked down on my way to places that I cannot fathom because wrong turns abound.

Small mounds of torn-up I should have, mixed in with I did not, hide the I should not from the eyes of those who judge me.

I walk alone in crowds, to a quiet place where my mind can rest from the ruckus and the chaos created by the masses.

As I fade away, I look back and notice that they have already forgotten me.

Monday, May 26, 2025 Miami, Florida Dedication: To my oldest sister, one of the most amazing human beings I have ever met. A pint-sized powerhouse who learned to turn wrong turns into new adventures, someone who dazzles people with her charisma and noble soul.

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Yellow Roses by Ileana Collazo The music cracks open my heart, flooding the corners of my mind where all the thoughts I try to hide, float trapped like silent loud screams.

I squirm inside this too-tight skin that used to drape me like soft silk, but has now turned to wrinkled crepe that rips so easily to the touch.

My limber fingers, once so deft, now slightly crooked and unruly, can’t hold the vase of yellow roses that I was placing on the mantle, but now lie lifeless on the carpet.

Saturday, September 29, 2025 Miami, Florida

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My Grandmother’s Garden | Ileana Collazo | Digitized Acrylic on Paper

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About me: My wild soul drums to the rhythm of beating heart I learned all I needed to know about writing poetry and creating visual art as a young girl in my grandmother's garden, where I sat doing what, as an adult, I call meditating. That quiet spot became my temple. Many years passed before I began to bring the creations conceived in my early daydreams to life. I started writing fiction and poetry, and then my mind exploded into a galaxy of colors, shapes, and movement as I began to paint on various surfaces, both digitally and with traditional media, and then added digital collage to my artistic spectrum. My art is representative of the twists and turns we take in the course of our daily lives, and of the awe-inspiring beauty that surrounds us. I was born in Cuba and have lived in Spain, New York, Vermont, and Massachusetts. I reside in Miami, Florida, where I work and play at Collazo Art Studio with my artist husband, four dogs, and cats in the yard. I strive to write poetry that touches the heart and create visual art that stimulates the senses.

Like a patchwork quilt, my words and art document my life experiences from communist Cuba to a haven in Spain, New England, and Florida. I am inspired by places and spaces that transform into layers of memories, shapes, and colors. My most recent exploration is my invention of HICAE (Human Intelligence Creative Artistic Expression) Digital Art Generated by IC, an intricate interchange between technology and the human brain. My artwork has been featured in group and solo exhibitions worldwide.

Artist Website: https://www.ileanacollazo.art YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCy8tVr3KhHKHK28_VdoPuww fivemuses@gmail.com 1-305-613-4725

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The Scrapbook of My Mind

the treasure chest from which I pull out every dream my muse will

The Scrapbook of My Mind | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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My daydreams were born in my grandmother’s garden

Lady in Pink | Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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If I Had Wings I Would…

spread them wide and fly so high that I would see my past and future

If I had Wings| Ileana Collazo | Digital Collage

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Special Edition Publication by:

https://issuu.com/fatimacanovas/docs/art_daily_news_international_magazi artailynewsinernational@gmail.com 1-305-425-9269

Copyright ©2025 Ileana Collazo, Collazo Art All Rights Reserved

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