eluding the concluding

eluding the concluding

 

 

at an alarming rate

the poet just kept writing

until no thought was involved

the process robotic

the themes dreary and convoluted

 

he kept yearning for great

but churning out spate

other writers begged him to stop

and with a mad grin

much to their chagrin

 

the verse kept coming

until finally,

they just had 

to shut their eyes

 

and imagine what he once was

when his quill still

could find his heart.

 

erin-cilberto

3/18/23

Reviews

[Wondering Mind]

I (me)...write to express and not to impress..
I have explored many forms of poetic expression, the most I'm comfortable with is what I call the shot form... Bursts of feeling or thought.
In my humble opinion.. write on

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and you are a joy to read, WM...
thanks for your input.
j.

[Sami Khalil]

No worries at all sir Jacob; keep writing and keep fighting until the roaster comes home. Your well is deep and ever flowing; we are all in states of ebb and flowing. Wave after wave, you are surfing life...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate your kind comment...I feel stale.
j.

[Sami Khalil]

Wow! All understandable. You are welcome sir Jacob

[red93]

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate...

Echoes of The Bard of Avon Himself here Jacob. Excellent ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, red...was thinking of Oedipus, reading your reply.
Cool.
j.

[red93]

Sophocles - another Drama Great. I saw the Agamemnon of Aeschylus in the original Greek aged 17 - School Trip 👍👍👍👍👍

[Patricia Wedel]

Where have all the Flowers Gone… long time coming… the Birds have Nested. You are the Dream that appeared when Time passed. gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"long time ago" "gone to graveyards every one--oh when will they ever learn?"
thank you, Pat,
j.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Makes me think of autowriting, psychography, automatism, etc.
Can't help but feel that the second stanza is about someone in particular.
The third is painful. Something that I think all of us have felt from time to time.
And the truth rings clear in the last, we write from our hearts and must find it or come home to heart.
What a blast!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I think my pen is stale and should rest.
thank you, Red,
j.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Rest is good, it's not walking away. Prose is also a way to refresh, like crop rotation in agriculture or crossfit athletics in sport. Not perfect analogies but surely enough to make some sense to staleness. Just some thoughts. Peace to you J.
Freds

[Betty Hermelee]

There comes a time when your thoughts and emotions run dry ; and perhaps that's the time to take a break; though sometimes it's difficult to stop writing even though your audience is kaput.......because poetry and the soul are linked together....many of us know when to pause....
Best, B

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, they are linked together, aren't they?
thanks, Betty,
j.

[Betty Hermelee]

YES! You're welcome J.
Best, B

[AYVID N]

Sometimes, one feels everything under the sun has been written about a million times and more. Add to it the weary muse and the paucity of the right words. And yet, what does one do with this incessant urge to write. The ever hungry poet wanting more. You penned that frustration and despair so brilliantly here, dear Jacob. In this poem, the quill is with the heart and soul.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, being so afraid to start getting repetitive....
thank you for your understanding review, divya,
j.

[AYVID N]

Its a well understood fear, my friend. You're most welcome.

[Chris Shaw]

I sense here dear J that you are possibly frustrated with your muse. She certainly serves you well when it comes to material and frequency. Your readers aren’t complaining, yet you dear poet are looking for more. Your final two stanzas made me ponder on how you are currently viewing your own poetry. Rather negatively I would say which is not how your readers feel.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I get to feel stagnant with ideas and delivery...just is.
but thank you, Chris,
j.

[Lorry]

And then, a thought occurred, that remembering when the quill could find his heart, now felt more and more like indigestion...
Poetry. Like life, is best played by year, with no stings attached and taken with a gain assault.
*Apologies, I have just started reading diary of a somebody, which is full of that kind of thing, as well as some surprising other things too.
It's a novel about a guy who decides to write a poem a day for a year, and he managed it until Jan 2nd!
I think my review for it will contain words like "the diary of Adrian Mole, meets the mundanity of middle age and onwards, mid panic attack."
I'm only on page 16, but it has the feel of a future favourite.
So in summation, I think I just reviewed your work with a review of someone else's work. Thereby proving that life just keeps getting weirder and why the hell have I got so many quills sticking out my chest I closely resemble a hedgehog? 😊
Don't worry Jacob, I hear the Med trolley trundling my way 😊

[jacob erin-cilberto]

but I bet the poem her wrote on Jan. 1 was exceptional!!!!!!!!!!!

[Lorry]

It was pretty good. It was called "My resolution will not be televised." 😊

[John the Baptist]

O for the days when the quill still finds the heart. I think I'll write something to that effect in a note to my muse, but the moody b***h will probably still remain in her chambers, pouting.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

she's not going to appreciate you calling her that, John....you might want to take it back...:))))