Room for More

Room for More

 

 

high ceilings

too tall Christmas trees

14 foot high,

Dad on the stepladder

putting the Angel on top of the Bronx world

 

sprawling bedrooms, train tracks from under the bed

to eternity

fake smoke from the engine

fills the room with the scent of childhood

the windows are so high up 

we can see the world

the scary world

with too low ceilings

and no Angels on the Christmas trees

and no presents underneath

and nothing but empty tracks

 

childhood rolling along

riding in a caboose now

looking forward to looking back

the stepladder is a rusted metal tap

of memories

 

the pine scent long gone

the subway has come above ground

old friends looking out the windows

watching me pass by their short lives

 

they are all angels now

and my life is that tall tree

with all of them adorning the top

 

me, a Lionel passenger

a whorl underneath it all

as i was in 1955

 

 

looking up

                                    up.------still imagining the smoke was real.

                  looking  

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

10/21/17

Reviews

[.]

It seems you have been reminiscing in your latest writes, Jacob.

Those days of youth in the Bronx are calling out to you again it seems; carefree days where the imaginary was always real. For now those times are past, the sights, sounds and smells are just memories. The friends of youth haved moved on or passed into the angelic realm. Yet still inside you feel it all, see it all and no matter how much time has passed you will always be that child of your youth. It lives on forever.

There is a gentle sadness throughout this write. I have passed my fourth decade and i am just beginning to have these little bouts of reflection. They are treasured reflections that bring both joy and sadness.

Loved this write, Jacob. Full of humanity. And alas the Yanks couldnt give us some memories for the future. I never anticipated a five inning shut out! I guess we have to wait till next year...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, wait till next year...but they were a year ahead of expected.

thank you for your kind words on the poem, Doodley..
j.

[Jimmy Yetts]

While not necessarily your intent, this is as profound an insight into our modernist society as one is likely to find:
"...the scary world
with too low ceilings
and no Angels on the Christmas trees
and no presents underneath
and nothing but empty tracks."

No presence underneath, either.

Bitter-sweet (mostly, sweet) reverie; an incredibly lovely offering, good poet!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Jimmy.

j.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

simply beautiful
I love this Jacob
I really did. great piece of your past told so well

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for the kind words, Julie.
j.

[Cory Barrett]

Reflection is often stagnant. Thank you for the wonderfully written journey.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review...
j.

[Ted Kniffen]

Great description of Christmas past. There wasn't a lot under the tree back then, but the get-togethers were great. Cards and laughter with the uncles. The scent of pine and cinnamon and cloves. The fire in the stove heating the house. Good memories.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, all good memories of a simpler, more person to person time..
thank you, Ted.
j.

[Island Hippy]

I love how vivid your words are. Creating a hum of day’s past, another timeline unfolding. I love how this felt like life’s seasons ever changing an honestly organic. I really do love this one Jacob. Mahalo x

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you so much for your kind words, IH.....
j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

How our childhood passes and is swallowed in the mists of time. This took me back to waking early in excitement just after our parents had gone to bed to find all the presents under the tree. A magical time we should hold onto. And those parents are all now angels. Loved this Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, John.
j.

[AYVID N]

So haunting, that time, those friends all gone and now angels on top of the tree. Such is life, flowing swiftly as a river, in a rush, sweeping away all in its wake.

fake smoke from the engine
fills the room with the scent of childhood

Awesome!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, DIVYA...
j.

[AYVID N]

Its my pleasure!