First of May

 

First of May

 

 

a stack of old poetry books

the dusty heart of a poet

yawning at the dribble written

in cold sweats of late night

 

there is so much room for improvement

the poet needs a larger estate

with which to state his romantic confessions

the priest would blush

 

the print is fading in his being

illegible thoughts drained of emotion

intentions shut in attic boxes

his pen filled with inertia ink

 

there could be worse lines of poetic existence

but the cobwebs taste delicious

in the mouth of metaphor

that has hung silently

 

like almost words

from almost writers

who used to be almost famous.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

5/1/22

Reviews

[red93]

I like this a lot. Yes the 'almost famous' might be surprised at how well-known they are. But of course if they cross the line and become 'newspaper fodder', their lives and loves are no longer their own. Nice work JE-C - bittersweet.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your astute observations, red93....
j.

[Chris Shaw]

No one understands a poet better than another poet. Page after page, book after book, file after file of all my inner thoughts. No one knows the mind of a poet or where they travel too. We have our own world. We exist on another planet :)

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Our own world, yes. Thank you, Chris,
j.

[Coyote Poetry]

Me too Jacob.
"like almost words
from almost writers
who used to be almost famous."
I keep telling myself. I will edit and publish. 10 years later. Hadn't done yet. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Oh, do it, Coyote...do it...
what you have to share would absolutely be appreciated....
j.

[lightsong]

That is who we are, Poets. sometimes it's not that we need change but more that we invent it so we can create. we can be the strangest persons alive, and that is OK. without us the world will have no value, no spirit. even famous poets are like that, they doubt many of their poems may times, they dwell in their inner world and struggle there alone. no one to understand, and no one to reach but their pens into papers. Welcome emotional May :>

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind, insightful review, lightsong
j.