There will be No next book

There will be No next book

 

 

I was a writer once,

but I quit,

 

so why am I still punching the keys

like a fighter past his prime

 

or the "Old Man and the Sea"

rubbing sharks the wrong way

dragging Merlin the Marlin behind his boat

because even Merlin the Magician 

couldn't hocus pocus his words to appear

again,

 

I smell blood,

so why am I still punching the keys

 

the sharks will find me

probably before the end of the first round

 

or

 

 

maybe in the hat with the rabbit.

 

 

erin-cilberto

6/15/2020

Reviews

[Chris]

Chucking here - and shaking my head... books ARE a lot of focus and work. So what else have you got the heart to do?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Maybe I will go back to making pizzas. Thank you, Chris, and I really like your pic in the new avatar.
j.

[Chris]

Is still me... as for pizzas - nah, too hard on the hands and coordination - besides - keeping and assembling enough boxes on hand would require a room addition - and who can afford that on a teacher's pension?

[Chris Shaw]

Once a writer always a writer. Yes we have our down days but we don't give up. The postman just delivered Book, so I am smiling. You will be punching those keys till the day you drop. There will be many more poem births yet After 51 years, you don't know how to stop :) So creative are you.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

You are very kind Chris...and I imagine you are write and right, the muse won't let me go...
but I am grateful to get to do this writing thing, even though I am not responsible for 99% of what I write.

[andrew mitchell]

I feel the same way only because I'm not good at it compared to most but like a bad habit you go at it again. :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Oh but you are good, andrew, and you have a certain style and flare that makes you unique in your writings.
j.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

There have been many a day I have asked this same question. And each time I think I hear an answer out in the ether it simply eludes me. But in strange ways I find it in the art of others such as yourself. We write because we get tired of hearing the words from our own lips. And the voices of our muses constantly in manic chatter. Our work are our children and we hope to give them a home to live in the hearts of others. I'm often reminded of a recent story I wrote where the opening quote begins with a man asking God the following:

"When does a man know he has come to his end?" And he swore he heard a whisper in the wind say, "It is when he comes to realize he can no longer do what in life he loved."

Perhaps the same is applicable to us writers. When we can no longer hear the poetry in words then it is done. Wonderful poem Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I like that, Carlos...we get "tired of hearing the words from our own lips"
perhaps yes, I am tired of talking, so I will just write.
j.