In the Home

In the Home

 

 

 

give me madness

the world is easier when bleeding insanity

the cuts in my mind

disfigure my thoughts until

i have to write them down in surgical units

 

i can't exist with this face

it is the face of a poet of anonymous features

metaphorically wrinkled with aged, stale

lines

give me madness

 

my world is writing me into a rubber room euphoria

eyes just pools of non-commitment to the pen

life's rushed by in frantic moments

chaotic dreams

crazy unachieved themes

 

and i want madness

to forget before i can remember

to express

what i can no longer feel in words

but what touches my mind

 

and makes me a lobotomy of fractured inclusion

into a world of blithering

that causes others to have nervous fingers

turning pages

and shaking their heads sadly

 

as another poet descends

in broken planks of reason's doubt

and just sits quivering

his pen trembling so badly

he can no longer scribble his name.

 

 

 

 

9/28/13

erin-cilberto

Reviews

[Dalton]

Nietzsche said something to the effect of "those with bad memory, who can will themselves to forget, sleep better". For some reason, this piece reminds me of this.
This poem speaks to a writer in turmoil, though perhaps not in a constant state, it speaks to catharsis. Perhaps this therapeutic purging distorts the actual experience when written, and may also distort the writer's mental clarity.
Though this piece is written with much clarity, the words speak to the confounded state. This was a difficult task well executed.
Salute,
D

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Dalton...

j.

[andrew mitchell]

the frustrations of the onset of dementia until its so severe you don't remember anything came to mind. A haunting write to us all getting older, the body slower and the fear of losing the mind that's still sharp!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, andrew.

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

I would call this a nervous breakdown in poetic utterances. Love that madness Jacob, mind if I join you?

regards,
al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are more than welcome to, Al.

thanks...

j.

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

It's working then....you have become....I see you so clearly in this...every chiseled line :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Queenie...

j.

[Mai L Nissen]

Wow, quite a strong picture you paint! 'In the Home' suggests an institution of sorts? It makes me think of my grandmother, who did not know her own mind due to dementia... although, the purpose of your description of mental state may not be similar, I identified with a lot of them - in terms of not functioning as earlier. Cognition that fails and leave you unable to communicate, understand and remember, trembling hands when fatigued and confusion of your surroundings. A horrible feeling of restraint! I don't know exactly what you intended, but the poem really made me feel... :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i really like this interpretation, Mai...

it fits very well...and i appreciate your words.

j.

[Ana B.]

oh this is beautiful, it reminded me of the song bellow:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayGkA-vxrMc

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Ana.

j.

[rubie]

how true...

"the world is easier when bleeding insanity"....absolutely.

this piece reminds me of a passage in "As You Like It":

“Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so
ordinary that the whippers are in love too.”

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like that quote...thank you, rubie...

j.

[rubie]

i knew you would. i do too.

he was indeed "the master" of language

[Fabian G. Franklin]

And what is love but a madness most divine? I enjoyed my friend.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Fabian.

j.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Just letting you know I stopped by. I always enjoy your writes.

[Lydia Shutter]

Ah, I relate. My pen has not been as active lately. I am not as committed to writing as I once was. I have always been able to put thoughts on paper more easily than speaking them. However, lately I feel the words that float through my psyche might not be worthy of ink. Is this a case of us getting older? A case of low self-esteem? Not sure. As always, though, I enjoy the way you express yourself...and the fact I can relate...or at least I can get my own meaning from the words. Good one, Jacob. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like what you got from the words, and always appreciate your insight, Lydi...

j.

[Johnson Bobby]

the mind and connects from fellings and wisdom understanding changes instantly
like a microwave signal a safe haven tells me that home is where the heart is but
the world live in fantasy and illusions sometimes my sanity fights off homsapians
the war of the roses mystology love and desires and there fiction and non-fiction
poetry and my see that home is where I do most of my thinking rather I 'M
RIGHT OR WRONG it cunfuses me from time to time in a paded room of my own
thank you for your poem keep writting clairity is coming

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words,

j.