relevance to what never asked for it

relevance to what never asked for it

 

 

 

you see me

relevant,

I see dust and locusts 

in a field of crops, 

that look like harvested poems

in decay

 

you see me

relevant,

I see insipid children 

I never had, scourging me

to drop the pen

and run

 

you see me

relevant,

I see fireflies losing direction

on a moonless night

darkness that clutters

your heart with unrelenting impetuousness

 

those insipid children

in that field

of scorn

I finally see me

relevant,

but I can't form you in my poems anymore

 

my keyboard is

in decay

the harvest reaped nothing

relevance

is a dying firefly praying

as all goes dark.

 

erin-cilberto

7/10/22

Reviews

[redzone]

an ode to those fleeting moments when we see ourselves relevant in an otherwise cold and bleak night... it's true, since we are finite beings, our light shines only briefly, and we do the best we can in a cruel world... as poets, we can neither stop the words from flowing, nor stop picking up the pen to enter them into our life's journal.... what we can do for those brief moments we have is to write the words that have meaning, lift up our hearts to see the way things could be and to act to bring this about.... we become irrelevant when we do nothing in the face of great wrong and ugliness that affects humanity....

Jacob, in my opinion, your keyboard may decay and become useless, but your pen will forever be relevant.... sorry about this, but reality has spoken....

[jacob erin-cilberto]

maybe "have to write", yes....why am I feeling that...writing because I have to not because I want to.
thank you, curt.
j.

[Re-Pete]

hmm. we oft times blindly, stumble upon our appreciations. a strange irony - we all want it, work for it. (starving) artists/writers more often than not do not receive it until they've passed from this life as evidenced by people like van gogh and my muse thoreau (people thought he was nuts too and ironically he paid for the publication of his two books by making and selling pencils). i suppose that if you can write it (expression of a truth within us) and someone can read it and be touched by it in some way - that is all the relevance that matters regardless of lapse of time between the writing and reading ... :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thanks for the idea in review, Pete.
I think I might start selling pencils....sounds like a plan.
thanks for your expressive response to this piece.
you are appreciated, my friend.
j.

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

Jacob,

Sadly, despite our best of efforts, all our work, our dreams and aspirations, all wielders of the quill shall eventually find themselves relegated to the dust of antiquity, a sad reality that all writers know and understand, but never like or fully accept ...

Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I know my day is coming....thank you, Marve, appreciate your insights.
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

dearest Jacob… I hear Violins playing Mozart as I read your Lines. We are living in perilous times. 💜 heartbreak is on our minds.. and yet we know that we are Spirits of the Devine. Your Talent is a Crescendo of clashing Cymbals in the midst of Storms. tenderly, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are very kind, Pat,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

Superb write dear J. You broke my heart with your final two lines. Each stanza building up to that last gasp. Yes, this is you at your brilliant best. Pulled the heart strings you did. Such an impacting write.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Chris,
j.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

My fave of yours
Among many I may add
I love the last verse the BESTEST

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Julie,
j.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Ah, just the uplifting message I needed to start the day, the three P's of poetry: Plath, Pound, and Poe.
Kidding aside, A fine poem, J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for that, Winston,
j.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Just don’t pull a Plath.