E. IZABELLE CASSANDRA ALEXANDER - POEMS

​   E. Izabelle Cassandra Alexander was born and raised in a little village in Hungary. After immigrating to the US, she first lived in New York. There she graduated with honors from Monroe College with a Bachelor's in Information Systems before moving to Chicago, where she earned her MBA in Business from Webster University. 
  Izabelle wanted to write her first novel at age eight and wrote her first poem in fourth grade. Seven years ago, she refocused to pursue her life-long dream of writing and began taking writing classes at Oakton Community College and online. Since then, she's a member of numerous writing and poetry groups, attending workshops and conferences, continuously updating her writing and editing skills. 
       Izabelle writes short stories, creative nonfiction essays, flash fiction, plays, and poetry. She's currently working on a few novels and a series of children's books along with illustrations. 
  Several of her fiction, creative nonfiction essays, and poetry have been published by Oakton Community College in 2016, 2018, and 2019 issues of their annual print literary journal, Spark, as well as by The International Library of Poetry in four of their print anthologies between 2004 and 2008. By The Scarlet Leaf Review on their website in 2018, and by the Illinois State Poetry Society (ISPS) on their website and in the ISPS print anthology, Distilled Lives, Volume 4, 2018. Also, in Yearning to Breathe, a print anthology by Moonstone Art Center in 2019, by and online journal, WOW! Women on Writing and by The Book Smuggler's Dan in 2019, and forthcoming in Tint Journal, March 2020.
       Her nonfiction essays "Disciplined Discipline" (2017) and "My First Camel Ride" (2019), and her flash fictions "Invisible Love" (2018), "Drowning Under Pressure" (2019), "Yellow Carnations" (2019) each received an Honorable Mention and “Fragments of Bones” (2019) won Runner Up status in contests by WOW! Women on Writing while they chose many of her flash pieces as finalists. You can read an interview with Izabelle by WOW here, published in January 2020: https://muffin.wow-womenonwriting.com/2020/01/interview-with-e-izabelle-cassandra.html
    In The New York City Midnight Challenge Flash Fiction Contest, she won the first round within her tier with her flash fiction titled "What Eyes Can't See" in 2018. Some of her poems, fiction, creative nonfiction essays, and plays had been selected by Oakton Community College as a finalist to represent them in the annual Skyway Competitions over the last six years.
 You can find Izabelle at izabelle2012.wixsite.com/Izabelle and on Patreon at 
www.patreon.com/IzabelleAlexander
Facebook Page at 
fb.me/E.IzabelleAlexander 
Instagram:  erikaalexander7277
Twitter.com/IzabelleAlexan3 

​Hidden Voices

​SWEET words had lured me away
Entangled by
the poison of the tongue,
from my truths, I strayed
 
Promises to recreate
Heaven on earth
to prosper, love, and to belong were
nothing but
DECEIT
 
An illusion of walking straight
blossomed into a deep abyss, and
the perception of calmness
like chamomile tea,
radiance of what could’ve been,
decayed,
leaving me
WITHOUT PURPOSE
 
Could you start again
once left abandoned?
Stuck in one place,
will your life have more value
than the tears and a
BROKEN SOUL?
 
Just TAKE
one day at a time,
one moment after each.
You still have your LIFE to live,
even if
it seems too late.
If you’re still breathing
and your voice is hidden deep inside
just SHOUT
into the world around.
Let them HEAR
YOU

​My Childhood/Nightmare

​It was hard
 to be strong and not hate you,
since you robbed us from peace and happiness
Oftentimes in my heart, there was emptiness,
and I blamed you
Straight into your eyes, I said the forbidden words,
“Dad, you should not have brought us into this world,”
if you take away the one thing
people crave when only responsibility life brings
A perfect childhood could soothe the hurts that bind,
I used to think, and begged, sometimes demanded
But you were lost and couldn’t be found,
still, I remember your struggle before it all ended
I was afraid for you and hoped that you stay
on this side of truth and prevail
The fire burned, and the darkness yearned as I,
 to be free
Now I say good-bye,
sorrow fills my heart with sadness
Your life completed, yet derailed,
since your death with every year passing,
I remember less of the times when you failed
Now I know how joy can fill one’s days and whole being
and I no longer need to live in the past,
my painful childhood transformed me
to be a blessing,
safely in the Lord’s hand, I can rest
and be my best
 

Hurt By Him
(In Memory of My Beloved Grandmother, Margit)
​

​You have stood by us
and defended us with gentle grace,
but in your defense, you
could not stop the hand that struck your face
 
You gave up so much and suffered greatly for us,
your children, and for my sister and me
You lived in faith
You tried to protect all from the hurt of the abusive touch,
but then your son, a grown man, became a violent wraith
 
The ice was hard; his eyes swelled in a drunken haze
as he smashed
your head against it, again and again
Your voice trembled with pain
as you gently whispered, “I forgive,
cause God forgave”

​ Not My Son

​Pain slowed her steps
as she walked in procession on heavy, weary legs
Her mind’s eyes looked back to a time,
when he played, careless, as an only child
 
Piercing grief in her chest,
feeling the squeeze of regret,
for allowing him to become
the stepson loved by no one
 
Could she have changed his fate?
By giving him more attention and more of her love?
Or would he have done the same?
Drinking and finding excuses for giving up--
 
In the bottle, he’d drowned his sorrow,
numbed his pain of yesterday and tomorrow
He’s lost his dreams, then, through sickness, his life
With it, two envied daughters and a faithful wife
 
Hunting her memories of times not seeing the obvious fatality,
glimpses of tears that flowed out of his brutality
Keeping quiet, suppressing the lamenting voice of his family,
Refusing to acknowledge the pain that planted itself inside their hearts as reality
 
Would he have stopped out of shame?
Would he have changed his ways for blame?
No answers left, the time has run out, there’s no one to save--
Just a sigh, “No mother should stand by, looking into his son’s grave.”
 
-My grandmother, Jolan, at my father’s funeral
 

 

​ Living Above Your Fears

​ 
Living above your fears
yet below timeless expectations
Living above your means,
yet feel broken beyond repair
 
Mornings and nights without the light
seem hopeless in rivers of lies
as day by day you struggle,
looking for meaning,
searching for truth,
carrying within you burdens and fruit,
passion for life
mixed in deep regrets to uproot
 
The light overcomes darkness,
in your life, bringing new seeds,
sowing songs of love
in your heart, and a new field of dreams