It's a Cold Note in the Bronx

It's a Cold Note in the Bronx

a Beethoven on a street corner

player piano, the monkey on the box

money tossed to the composer

tidbits for the chimp

who tries to come up with lyrics

but only hand gestures spell words

i pass him with sad conflict

feel dreaming empathy as a poor poet

my own music plays 

little comfort

cold corner

i want to run into poem and hide

i want to be deaf to the heartbreak

it's like a Limbo of feelings

closure drifts like a melody in frozen air

of New York City

on a dark, bitter night

windows close above

sirens wail in dreary disclosure

there is no sheet music

for the tempest within

only the hope that the concert might be sold out

and the duet survive another day

erin-cilberto

12/8/17

Reviews

[Dionysian Gnostic]

This reminded me of street performers. I grew up in the Bronx and have seen many street performers hustling for a few bucks and when I was a child I didn't quite understand that the shiny, happy performance was executed by someone in dire need. I've also felt guilty that I couldn't do more to help and that many of them would suffer far more than I could have imagined by their attempts to make some spare change.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

interesting...me too...lived on Sedgewick Avenue about 2 miles from Yankee stadium until i was 8 and a half...
thank you for your kind words,
j.

[Paul Bell]

Nobody should have to live on the streets.
Especially in cities where money freely rolls.
Yet we pass them everyday. They become like the statues that adorn the city. We can even empathise with them. Cos something inside us, see themselves in that position.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are so right, Paul...nobody should have to live this way---we go help other countries, what about ours?

j.

[Paul Bell]

Yes, we pump money round the world like confetti.
Yet people in our own country live in poverty.

[Anand Sehgal]

my own music plays
little comfort
cold corner
i want to run into poem and hide
i want to be deaf to the heartbreak

-- Very complex emotion written in a very few words :) A mature write . I loved it .
************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Anand...

j.

[andrew mitchell]

Its a hard life living in the Bronx on its own, without fighting nature's elements as well and where does one go?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

so true...thank you, andrew.
j.

[Sami Khalil]

A story unfolding here, of survival in the artistic world and competition perhaps. I like the comparison with the weather in NY and how it affects the mood of the players or passers by.
Another marvel of yours.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Sami.
j.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome sir Jacob.

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Great title and mood set by this poem. We leave them if we’re lucky, but the mean streets never leave us. To be down and out in the Bronx really means something to me. “ I want to run into poem and hide”- truth, I wanted to too, so many times- and did. I really feel your soul and your genius in these words j. Yay for the Bronx- it shaped your gift! Kudos my friend!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words Annette...i left out the "the" before poem in that line because i mean it as a place rather than a thing...is it too awkward as is?

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

No, it’s perfect as is with the deeper meaning j.

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

I corrected the quote in my review :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you....

[Alfred Kukitz]

you can feel New York throughtout the entire piece.

regards,
al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Al.
j.

[Jimmy Yetts]

Another "Bronx Tale"--one melancholy soul-searcher.
Sounds like neither duet survived, enough days.
Has impact!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Jimmy.
j.