not the Royal Albert Hall

not the Royal Albert Hall

 

 

vociferous alley way blues

scrounging for diplomatic immunity

from hunger's deportation

 

the old guitar with strings missing

still finds enough chords to sound

against the raging emptiness of a gut

 

that plays deeper than a heart in pain

the lonely tones of graffiti keys

that won't open doors to salvation

 

at least not the kind he is looking for

in concert with a life he used to know

back before his gigs were all booked

 

on some lonely street corner

in a rundown slum that seats

only 25 ticket holders

 

with no shoes

and only one coat to share

when the winter blisters the fingers so hard

 

it hurts to clap

for an encore.

 

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

1/1/16

Reviews

[A hare off]

Lonely is the feel of this, the bright lights have dimmed, the curtains are now nothing but rags and the crowds have dimished to the size of a check out line at Walmart. Felt this one Jacob in more ways than one.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, A hare.

j.

[Jimmy Yetts]

Sounds like a venue once offered for my poetry.
(Do the hungry who don't know any better wish deportation to Turkey?)
Can't get no low-downer than this, Jacob.
Those last two lines sum it up, tragically.
Stunning bit of work!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Jimmy,
j.

[jesserose99]

this reminds me of the joni Mitchell song For Free, but it is different in that it has a darker tone to it, a deeper truth. Some may play for free because the love of the music, but many out there playing do it not only because of the love and need for the music, but the need for it to feed and sustain them. Haunting in a way...and beautiful all the same.

[B. Boileau]

This piece brings many memories of spending nights in the dark dungens and back street bars were you can listen to the best music you've ever heard. The performers might clear $50.00 (if lucky) and would play broken down instruments. All of them starving artists... all of them could have played in the hall, they were that good...
Thank you for the memories Jacob
bill

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for sharing yours, as well, bill...

j.

[Elwyn]

Feeling this rather bitterly on such a cold day... Some day I hope to have half of your vocabulary and finesse. Stinging ending, "it hurts to clap/ for an encore."

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Elwyn.

j.

[W.k.kortas]

Grit, well writ. I thought that was good enough, but the character requirement says otherwise.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, those character requirements...but i appreciate your words, my friend.

j.

[emmajoy]

The venue is rarely complimentary to or for a sad heart that needs to sing or play. There is only one Hall that allows the magic of sound, a real and fair life for every player of any worth.

Your words are beautiful; you've created an anthem to those who would play for merely a snatch of comfort and warmth, jacob.

Oh my, tis sad..

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, emma...
j.