Mother

today would have been her 100th birthday.

Mother

morning of

thoughtful persuasions

your eyes open again

signal me onward

one hundred years ago

a womb spoke,

a mother born to a mother

who had been born to another

mother and so on

until the arrival of a poet

basking in the afterbirth of love

and words

and a cold shoulder

of unfortunate circumstance

she was as much love

as a banished heart

would allow

in poetry, years pass

one hundred ago

one was born for another to be born

a womb spoke

birthed on syllables of longing

just for a nip of love

just enough,

to take the extended trip

toward a today

without her

as writing births more writing

and a father waits for the news.

erin-cilberto

2/19/22

Reviews

[‘Thoughts In Time..]

And love is birthed once more 🌹❤️

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Kelly,
j.

[‘Thoughts In Time’🌹]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

[Mark Mendoza]

Enjoyed that last line,
Here in the U.S many think of creation as The Father, but to receive word that Mother gave the news is a magical twist.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Mark,
appreciate your visit...
j.

[Mark Mendoza]

Yeah its been awhile, I saw you went away for awhile I hope things are going well for you now adays.

[Fran Marie]

This is so beautifully penned
mothers are so very special
they hold that sacred place
in our hearts ..no one else can
ever replace..your mom is smiling
down at her poet son..oh yes she is.

Lovely versed poem Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I can only hope she is...thank you, Fran,
j.

[Miss Sharon]

Another fantastic and beautifully written post from your pen Jacob. (a womb spoke birthed on syllables of longing) How I adore your style and craftsmanship! ~Sharon

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your very kind words, Sharon,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

'she was as much love
as a banished heart
would allow'

How utterly moving this poem is J. on what would have been your mother's one hundredth birthday.

Beautifully penned my friend

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Chris,
j.

[Patricia]

First I’m blown away by the 100 years, just think about that and explode. Then it goes to sadness, heartbreak, the wanting of love and acceptance but like all of us who know this feeling we find it other ways, writing as is in this case, waiting for the arrival of a new birth. This is painful and beautiful at the same time, it’s real and naked like all births. This is a new favorite to be sure! I actually relate to this all too well.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I really appreciate your empathy and understanding, Patricia
thanks
j.

[Einstein Noodle]

oh my goodness jacob! how this poem touches my mind and heart and soul .. it deeply pierces the sadness we feel when our Ma s are passed on ... how fortunate to have even the briefest nip of love .. how tragic the cold shoulder that knocks one straight through ..what an incredible write sir ... i feel stripped bare me self ... well you call yourself a poet born to be one and honest and true to the calling .. i feel kind of numb my dear friend ..i am raising my hot totty .. coffee and a shot of Janis' Southern Comfort .. to you sir .. slainte mhath
E.
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I'll take Janis any day...well, not the booze but the Joplin.
thank you for understanding....I do miss her.
j.

[Einstein Noodle]

yep .. i feel you brother .. so .. i sang "ball and chain" for you and drank your shot as well as mine ;)

[Dave Brown]

My Mother's Mother's Mother's Mother handed down a paintings which still survives
I often wonder about her
They were quite a successful invention (both)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, they were, thank you, Dave,
j.

[light and ashes]

This is a beautiful write, jacob. So she was born on the nineteenth of February? That would make her a Pisces right???..
She sounds like she was a beautiful soul of a woman. It must have been nice to have a mother that actually cared about you.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, I was lucky...thank you, light,
j.

[light and ashes]

You are very welcome.

[Lisasview]

Another interesting - enjoyable poem
Mothers, and on and on and on..
without her.. painful words..
Lisa

[jacob erin-cilberto]

gone eight years now...thank you for your kind words, Lisa, I wrote the October poem about her as well...from a pic of her in Vermont, fall of 1957...
j.
j.

[Lisasview]

I lost my mother around 8 years ago as well... and nearly a day goes by that I do not think of her.. Not sure I read the October poem.. If not I will..Lisa