i was more scared now than i am then

i was more scared now than i am then

 

 

i dressed this poem

in yellow colors

like elastic imagination

the flowers grew into dandelion grief

 

an honest lawn

cut short

as life found its bizarre ending

the weeds grew in my heart

 

confounded the memory

blurred the blades' tips

of fractured frame

i try to remember your face

 

before you were subjected

to an inappropriate surgery

by flaming forceps

blue tipped instrument

 

i dressed this poem

but you were so burned

i had to cover the lines

for their disfiguration implied

 

my heart to be overgrown with sorrow

and mourners

would just have to use their imagination

because monsters are more real

 

than we envision.

 

 

erin-cilberto

11/5/22

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

You may have forgetten her face as the years have gone by but you haven't forgotten the love in your heart for her. It is that which is all important. The yellow is for sunshine. For buttercups and dandions and warmth. Concentrate on the love rather than how she died my friend.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Always...thank you, Chris,
j.

[W. Barrett Munn]

You walked right to the edge between clever and too and navigated that narrow passage without a fall and without pressing your luck too long.

Winston

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Winston...I know better than to press my luck...aging has taught me that.
j.

[Scott Kris]

The title is interesting. How can I feel what I “am then” ? And it is a perfect oxymoron.

So much of how we are now is because we are still living in the past tense.

Then the exploration of plastic surgeries and reaching back for something lost forever. It’s an exercise in futility and still we do this to our bodies and more so to our psyche.

Deep bro! Deep.

Thank you again for sharing your genius.

Scott.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind review, Scott,
j.

[Gee]

I read your reply to Divya and see that this friend/ love was lost in 1984, such a long time to hold onto your feelings for her.
I totally understand the struggle to recall her face as after only 3+ years I sometimes cannot recall clearly mum's face which leaves me questioning the depth of love I had for her.
Good morning Jacob, hope you are well

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Gee...we never forget them.
j.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

there is nothing to question...your love for your mum was very deep...

[Gee]

Thank you Jacob

[AYVID N]

Very sad how something inappropriate disfigured something sincere, perhaps a genuine love felt and confounded the good memory of it all. The poet is grieving this loss and seems very scared and upset over his inability to remember a face and connect with it like he used to. Has his object of love turned into a monstrosity? The concluding lines had me scared too. A compelling and profound read.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, DIVYA,
j.