silence in the bristles

silence in the bristles

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto

silence in the bristles

 

 

scrap metal synchronicity

she was golden

I was tin

a soup can mentality

pop top crop

of silver

 

lining

my fingers with the touch of her

hair

left in the brush

when she brushed me off

for another

 

now the junkyard dog howls

late at night

at forlorn lovers

with tags

that give names and address

of broken hearts

seeking shelter

 

baying at a moon

that quit being luminescent

back when his hair

was an ebony cloud

and the broth still

 

had a bit of steam.

 

 

erin-cilberto

1/7/23

© 2023 jacob erin-cilberto


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Beautifully sad, I like the part about her hair in the brush and she brushed you off. Good play on words.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

thank you, Shelley,
j.
Well, it happens. It hurts worse, though, when the top is silver and the broth no longer bubbles. Like being kicked when you're down. Past a certain age, Russian Roulette is a safer game than love.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

maybe it always is a safer game...who knows?
thanks, John
j.
Ah, the old tin can mentality...I know this well as I have practiced it on many occasions. Though with me, to open up is not as easy as popping a top and as for hair color...tin is usually silver, right? Yep...

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

Yes, silver, like my hair.
thank you, will....we will just keep popping.
I love the fact that we are all alloys whatever we look at but particularly in love. Wish I had thought of that concept.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

I appreciate you, Ken...
thanks for your comment.
j.
I was always like a flip-top tin can... until I became Wine... aged with a hint of merry.
Playing "hard to get" doesn't always work... neither does "Easy". It's a random flight out there... better to be Snoopy the Red Baron. gently, Pat

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

Snoopy and the Red Baron....had that single way back when...fun song...no more flip top cans...I saw.. read more
At least you can still salvage some parts in the junkyard to work on some cars; still some value left, then you can sell the metal for recycling. Maybe new cars come out from it eventually...
A powerful poem sir Jacob.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

New used ones...thank you, Sami,
j.
Sami Khalil

1 Year Ago

Hehehe! You are welcome sir Jacob.
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M
I feel we all see ourselves as tin to the gold of the one we desire. Tin is easily crushed, though, and it's harder to melt a golden heart. The hair left on a brush is a sad image, much like the scent left on the pillow after a lover leaves for good. We all become junkyard dogs howling at the moon when that happens and just trying to break free from the chain that binds us painfully. Sad but wonderful expression.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

Thank you for your very insightful, understanding review, Makhabat.
j.
I feel like the junkyard dog, myself on some nights Jacob.
"now the junkyard dog howls
late at night
at forlorn lovers
with tags
that give names and address
of broken hearts
seeking shelter"
I did love the above lines. After watching my Lion's lose their spot in the playoff. I am howling at the moon tonight. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

thank you for your words, Coyote,
j.
Coyote Poetry

1 Year Ago

You are welcome Jacob.
It’s funny, finding a mate are just trials and more errors, the stereotypes we chase, the gullibility we go through, and the never give up attitude drives us to make the same mistakes over and over again all because of what we define as attractive to our eyes. It’s painful at the time but looking back how comical and silly we were. The bottom line there are no guarantees, you can only enjoy it while it lasts and no one will ever love you the way you do, that’s the unrealistic expectation we place on one another. This is where the write took me.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

I really like where you took this...thank you, andrew...
I appreciate your interpretation...<.. read more
Some memories are better binned. This seems to be one of those. Unrequited love sucks. Painful to get over. Poignantly composed J.

Chris

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

thank you, kindly, Chris,
j.

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Added on January 8, 2023
Last Updated on January 8, 2023

Author

jacob erin-cilberto
jacob erin-cilberto

Carbondale, IL



About
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..

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