Undressing the Ghost of the Information Technology Future

Undressing the Ghost of the Information Technology Future

 

 

 

snowy blisters,

sledding downward

reindeer games, intriguing night

darkness and burglary of meaning

 

the star fades,

the tree isn't real

it's a plastic, electronic Bethlehem

and the three men are no longer wise

 

infected with Wikipedia countenance

they bear gifts of fool's gold

little sense

 

and that third thing no one can spell correctly

because dictionaries are a thing of the past

like one of the three ghosts

 

i want to smell the pines again,

feel my fingers chip away under thin gloves

i want to grasp a quill

and write like Dickinson

or that Dickens chap

as the carolers sing at my door

 

and i want the Raven to go home

to his own nest and share presents

with his children

 

leaving me to write of Christmas future

like it was in Christmas past

 

i want to find my way back to where the manger used to lie

the stillness of the child

the silence of the cry

 

unadorned shepherds watching close by

the spirit finally resting

hands and arms touching, embracing

 

i want to go back

unwrap how it used to be

feel it again

from up close

 

put a real star on top of the tree

and be guided once again

by the simplicity of touch

of warmth

 

of belief

in something that seemed to matter once.

 

 

erin-cilberto

12/24/16

Reviews

[Nolo Segundo]

I came upon this by chance-- so well done, I wish I had written it [my highest compliment]. We so called moderns believe in our progress, yet like someone with diminishing senses, we don't know all we have missed.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i appreciate your kind review, Nolo,
thank you for stopping by and leaving your thoughts and how you related.
j.

[...]

Brilliant piece... an important read too. You so accurately captured the climate we live in...nothing is special or sacred. Starz x

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Starzy...

j.

[Lydia Shutter]

The holidays are not what they used to be...or at least not how we remember them. Nothing seems to really matter anymore. Carolers? Have not seen or heard them since my days in NJ and that was over 45 years ago. Today we are afraid of strangers...with good reason...and I don't think a lot of the traditions from years ago would fly anymore. Lots of reminiscing and reflection in this one. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, it is so sad how we are afraid of strangers...very sad.

thank you, Lydi...
j.

[Ruth]

Jacob, you really do hit the nail on the head. Nothing is sacred anymore, nothing is "real" anymore. The meaning behind anything has become distorted, warped...in myriad ways, the yearning to really feel the originality again is tangible here and the desire to once again believe is potent. Nothing seems to last forever. I haven't heard carol singers for years, I remember they used to go door to door around Christmas time, not anymore, sad in a way. Modernity is not always an improvement, Blessed Yuletide my friend...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

exactly, Poppy...not always an improvement.

thank you for your visit and kind review.
j.

[Edmerlyn Geralde]

wow,,,very creative...nice poem

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you Edmerlyn...

j.

[Michael X]

Really good poem, metaphorical and realistic, passionate and well thought out! You are poet, working your craft!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Michael.

j.

[Kirsty Woodward]

I think this is one for the world to read.

So brilliantly crafted are your words here.

To go back in time through a poem is truly magical.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Kirsty...

j.

[Jimmy Yetts]

Not-so-virtual melancholy.
Lamenting what we've lost as we're losing it.
Is our God-given reality giving way to a rigged game?
Will our children eventually and inevitably be drawn into a totally mind-controlled netherworld?
Profoundly thoughtful, extremely relevant piece, Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insights, Jimmy---

much appreciated,

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

I'm drowning in nostalgia, kissing a reflection of the past in a mirror that disappeared, an ounce of pain as mother shaves Santa's beard. Oh sweet sorrows!

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you're response is better than the poem...made me smile, through it all...thanks, Al.

j.

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

This is beautiful and inspiring J! Merry belated Christmas! I been gone the last few days but am so glad I returned to find this treasure still under the tree😊

[jacob erin-cilberto]

hey, Merry belated back at ya, Queenie...and thanks for the kind words,
j.