the real soul of the poet

the real soul of the poet

black Plath,

dark night,

dark knight

he shines no more

another lover

another excuse

another night writing with her

black Plath

heart of ash

flames turned cold blue fire

the tips hardened

unsteady flicker

he has picked her

his pen flared for the alternate beauty

while hers is dying inside

black Plath

so young 

so confused

so used,

his book the priority

his greatness weighed like Hamlet's

his tragedy, now hers

he moves on

and she spirals down

a flight of progressive stairs

of emptiness

can't get out of her own way

fingers burnt from the cigarettes 

she never used to smoke

life gets hazy

when your heart gets crazy

and the words get committed

visit her...she would appreciate your coming

maybe join her for a puff or two

a word or two

a lifeline before it breaks

before she breaks

her tragedy, now ours.

erin-cilberto

10/29/16

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

and she spirals down a progressive stairway...

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Jacob, call me crazy... this reads
political... Shakespeare could write
tragedy about our election. We love our
country... talk about spiral king down.
Oh well, we remember the glory days
when our love was real and our fight
was genuine and not just for the lover's power.
I cast my vote and it was the best of the worst.
truly, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow, what an interesting interpretation....i like that....

and it does fit, for sure.

thank you for the insightful comments...

j.

[Patricia Wedel]

You are welcome. We live in such uncertain times.
Perhaps poetry will help us to survive or paint our
emotions in colors of autumn. truly, Pat

[Kathy Van Kurin]

Erin-cilberto,
The story of traggic gradual downhill life spiral. The more I read the more it seems amazing. This was just that. I could really picture a process of darkness in the writer and character coming to reality. Love it! Kathy

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Kathy,
j.

[Kelly Scheppers]

What a stirring of the soul this gives. Indeed, the tragedy is ours...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, it is...we lost a great poet at such a young age, in she was in the throes of writing her best stuff.

thank you, Kelly.

j.