poeming gray

poeming gray 

 

 

a very old man

an ancient typewriter

on a dusty desk at dusk

his eyes are bad,

the ribbon is fading

around his neck

he feels the compression

words choking his vanity

 

he was once a great writer

published thousands of poems

dozens of books,

he was a best seller

gave readings in smoky coffee houses

 

was likened to Dylan

to Ferlinghetti

to all of his heroes

and he was one of theirs

 

and then he got very old

and his instrument got very old

and his desk lost its balance

and even his spectacles 

could not help him find his words

someone bought him a new ribbon

but he needed new fingers

a new mind

"less is more" they always said

 

but "none is unbearable" he thought

as he raised the gun

and finally started to type.

 

 

erin-cilberto

8/17/2020

Reviews

[Neville]

these words struck a dark chord with me jacob and made me wince several times ... getting old sure sucks and I dread ever loosing my higher cognitive functions .. I already mourn my lost youth ..

... and as long as you keep these coming j I know you are fine in that respect ..

N.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and when I should quit, please let me know...deterioration is an ugly thing.
thank you, Neville,
j.

[Neville]

absolutely ... consider it done but I will expect the same from you jacob ..
N.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Deal........

[Neville]

... ..... :)

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Jacob.. you have touched my heart deeply... the ending reminds me of my father who loved to say... “If you had an infinite number of Monkeys and an infinite number of typewriters ... all the ‘Great Works’ could be typed.” My father was not a Poet, but he loved Shakespeare. Perhaps he is with him in Heaven.
gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Sounds like my dad...they are probably up there having a good laugh together.
thank you, Pat,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

Perfect... my father laughed a lot...

[Inessa]

A wonderful title again, Jacob. It just speaks to me that one is a poet till they die. Old age slows down the output, affects the quality of the poetry produced but the poet will never stop writing because poetry and its expression is a part of his soul. I particular enjoyed your final lines here.....raising that gun, not to end his final stanza, but to keep producing more words. It is all he knows to do. It's a great poem on writing, poets and the shadow of aging.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind review, Inessa,
j.

[Robert Trakofler]

I can take all of the aches and pains they throw at me brother! but I could indeed never stand to lose my (already somewhat fractured) mind! I think at this point not writing would be tantamount to death for me:/ So it would not be a stretch to invision that "solution" coursing thru my mind too:( After a while writing becomes as necessary as breathing:/

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, for me too, brother bunny...writing is breathing.
thank you for your understanding words.
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

Writing ✍️ is singing and humming and being busy like a hummingbird. Amen... Pat

[Robert Trakofler]

Hi patricia

[Patricia Wedel]

I love “social events”.... with 🎶...

[John the Baptist]

Well, as Gene Kelly said, none of us can jump as high as we could when we were 21. This offering presents and extreme example, however. An aging poet, once among the greats, laments the decline of his powers. Seemingly, the tank is now running on empty. The last verse is disturbing, though; it sounds as though he wants to get off the train immediately.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, John...
yes, if we can't write, we want off the train.read morethank you for your insightful words, John...
yes, if we can't write, we want off the train.
it is breathing.
j.

[adornoscousin]

So as a writer I empathize (not with the successful part!) but in all seriousness, sometimes I feel like I HAVE to write or create or I will die. There is such pressure. I think the end of the poem captures this nicely.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, in a way...that pressure to write...especially when we get into a writer's block...
thank you, adorno.
j.

[light and ashes]

Hmmm.. interesting write.
Sad and dark in a way that none should ever know.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Light.
j.

[light and ashes]

You are welcome.

[Chris Shaw]

Such a good read. This is a really dark write and the ending I took to be darker still. Old age sucks. It is bad for some, but not everyone.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Chris.
j.

[Lydia Shutter]

OH MY....this is really a dark one, Jacob. It's not only poets who feel the emotions herein as they age. We are not what we once were, but we are still viable and still make a difference just by being. A character study that is riveting! Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, just by being...we make more of one than we may think.
thank you, Lydi,
j.

[Papaya]

There's a bit of a darkness to this one or perhaps the end can be interpreted differently.
I imagine this process of fading is similar to an athlete aging and unable to perform.
When passion and ability fade at the same rate I think it's tolerable but wanting to do, and being unable would be maddening

[jacob erin-cilberto]

If i wanted to write and no longer could, not sure what i would do. I need my writing to breathe.read moreIf i wanted to write and no longer could, not sure what i would do. I need my writing to breathe.
thank you, Ana,
j.

[Papaya]

I know what you mean. You're welcome.