Lost Summer

Lost Summer

 

 

escape into the dark streets

the city breathes light into

a shadowed breast

the eyes of skyscrapers blink

in a neon night,

there is sadness in the flash

 

as down goes the sash

of empathy

the bottle is accompaniment

for the soul's charade

 

feeling good is 

run over by bleeding traffic

blaring taxi horns chide

it's a short ride

 

to the pavement.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

6/28/2021 

Reviews

[Lorry]

There are eight million stories in the naked city.... Your words remind me of that and how they all have a tale to tell, if only we could see and hear in their frequency.
Skyscrapers blinking neon reminds us that the real can slip so quickly from our grasp and leave them/us like yesterday's news, blowing in the wind of indifference. Your words always inspire Jacob, perhaps we should all listen without pre conceived opinions. Perhaps we grew too used to glancing at the headlines without reading the content.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind review, Lorry,
j.

[Ted Kniffen]

There is a certain sense of freedom walking empty streets in the dark and a tingle of anticipated danger.
Far more are living on the streets than need to be ... pandemic or not ... could be attributed to a lack of concern from our elected officials. Perhaps if they were given the opportunity to "camp out" for a few days the concern might turn.
That bottle's charade can mesmerize those who are tempted to that life or those who believe there is no choice. Like my father ... a WW2 vet who could not defeat his demons, finishing his battle at 44.

Thanks j. A great poem that evokes sad memories.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your understanding review, Ted,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

The eyes of skyscrapers blink in a neon night…
the city dreams where Hope takes flight… the times are unpredictable… and yet we cling to the prayers of solar stars… tenderly, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Pat,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

Was it Star Wars that had Cling Ons ? Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

it was Star Trek...

[Carola]

love this poem...
"the bottle is accompaniment
for the soul's charade"
very eloquent jacob!
cheerio carola

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Carola,
j.

[John the Baptist]

When you're really feeling down inside, sometimes even the most impressive external features don't help. The bottle can only make things worse. Perhaps the pavement wasn't too far away to begin with.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

perhaps, yes.
thank you, John,
j.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

You breathe a city to life with your poetry, Jacob. Painting its visage with lights and the ambiance of sound. Bringing the reader to that visceral connection. It's always a joy to read your work my friend.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Carlos,
j.

[Poetic Beauty]

This reminds me of someone who is drunk with a bottle in a paper bag walking the back alleys of a big city. Lonely even though the streets and sidewalks are clustered with people and noises.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for seeing the picture drawn, PB.
j.

[Poetic Beauty]

You are welcome. That is what I pictured in my minds eye when I read this poem.

[Chris Shaw]

High rise living. The lights at the windows flashing neon at night. I am feeling claustrophobic up here with only the company of a bottle to numb the emotions. I am not good with heights and I am feeling a pull towards that pavement. I sincerely think that I would go nuts living in the city, in a high rise flat on my own away from my. country green. Not for me, though some people are attracted to that way of living. I can't think of anything more depressing than living in a skyscraper. I would rather sleep on the streets.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, we lived on the fifth floor of our apartment in NY...
I used to look out the window and was okay...not sure where my fear of heights developed, but it surely happened as well.
thank you for your sharing, Chris,
j.