Creative Column: Selected Poems by Fiamma Curti

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Fiamma Curti is a second-year student from Italy studying English Literature with Creative Writing and Practice.







so many things happened.


Not to me,

I was home

eating Chinese

and watching tv.


But for the first time

the baby downstairs

slept for six hours.

His parents

have never felt

so grateful.


The eight-year old upstairs

Is reading Harry Potter.

She just found out


is at her fingerprints.


Someone went on their first date,

they kissed in the streets,

right under my balcony.

They were so excited

they both did a happy-dance

when they thought

the other one

wasn’t looking.

A young couple

is making love

for the fourth time

in a row.


A couple of floors below,


An old couple

is eating together

for the fourteenth-thousand-time

in a row.


Tomorrow morning,

they’ll wake up

a bit more in love

than they were





City streets, city lights, city sounds

they’ll drill a hole through your soul

tie a rope around it and tell you:
‘Go and explore.’


So you’ll run out the door,

you’ll run around the world,

you’ll run in a new life

you didn’t know of before.


But you’ll run out of rope.


You’ll feel called back

by the streets that you left,

that now feel like home

like they have never before.


And you’ll know,

once and for all,

that you’ll always

be back when you’re gone.




Some days are so full of emotions,

all I want to do

is put them into verses.


On those days

the world seems



The weight is lifted off,

The darkness sent away.

Everything is a multicolour-madness.


But verses are late.

They get stuck in the traffic

of everything happening inside me.


So I bottle it up.

Put it on a shelf.


When the world goes back

to a blank sheet of paper,

I open it up.


The colours come out,

splashes of lighting,

forming verses on the page.

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