Agora Journals

Learning from the masters of the blogging world, I’ve been trying to develop some of my posts in drafts, “backstage”. The post that was supposed to be about the Agora Journals launching party never happened. Due to a mix-up, I never made it to the party. I wanted to write about the feeling one gets seeing his work (part of it) published. Party or no party, the feeling is still there. There is pride and pleasure but also a bit of guilt as if they have been wrong when they chose your work but you do not dare to tell them because the dream might fly away, unfulfilled. And this is what you feel: fulfilment. It is an addicting feeling and you want more of it. That’s why you promise yourself to write better next time, pay more attention to your words, pay more attention translating your thoughts, if (like me) English is your second language.

Agora Journals Photo by Madison Lewis

Beside contributing to the Journals, I was a part of the editing process and I supplied the art cover. I don’t think I can ever stop trying to publish the book I’m writing. Not now, after taking a sip from the authors’ cup of ambrosia-like drink. Not ever.

While I cannot publish my new poetry without endangering its publication, I see no damage in publishing an old, previously published poem.


I don’t miss you

nor do I miss the way you were laughing

in that early spring rain

or the tilt of your head

as you were waiting for me

on a wood bench

under the old plane tree


I don’t miss

the late-afternoon times

when you crossed the fields

carrying me on your shoulder

which I wanted to last forever, but it didn’t

when we picked wild daffodils in a celebration of love

when you and me were us


I do not miss you

but in the autumn

when the mornings smell of burned leaves

the tips of my fingers ache

with the longing to trace the contour of

my kisses on your lips

those kisses tasting of late-afternoon rain

and I find it hard

to chase away the imprinted sense

that I lean my head on your chest

and I feel

the fabric of your sweater in my fist

as I’m hanging on


I don’t miss you—and yet

I wish to forbid you that overconfident stance

I have never learned to live without

and I want to rid my mind of

that wry smirk of yours

I dementedly want to kiss



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5 thoughts on “Agora Journals

  1. I completely agree that seeing your name in print is an amazing feeling! I was told it would be but really wasn’t prepared for the immense pride I felt, and still feel, when my paper was published. I read them now and wince at my poor grammar and juvenile ideas but I enjoy seeing how far I’ve come.

    Thank you for sharing your poem. I have come to look forward to hearing you read them in class and enjoy reading them as well. You have a lot of heart and a lot of talent <3


  2. Thank you, Christine. Yes, you are right, there is this aspect of it. As a concession to myself, I do not re-read my older Agora entries. It is a stage we have to undergo before emerging as full-fledged writers. There is not much to do but accept the fact and strive for the best. After all, none of these are written in the peaceful atmosphere of a writer’s retreat but in the chaos of the midterms and finals, between an exam and another, with other deadlines breathing at the back of our necks. (Why do I feel that I am going to miss this part though?)

  3. What a beautiful poem, Elena! Thank you for sharing it. I cannot wait to read your poetry book when it’s published! I laughed when I read the part about not telling them they were wrong in choosing your work for the journal. I was lucky enough to have one of my papers published in the Agora Student Writer Awards Journal and had that feeling as well: “Just don’t tell them that the paper wasn’t that great otherwise they’ll take it away!” haha. It is a wonderful feeling to see your name and work in print:)


    1. Thank you, Janelle! We should keep in touch. I’ll invite you when I’ll launch my book and you will invite me when you will launch yours. 🙂

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