the torch passed

the torch passed

grandma lived with red headed

uncle Fred

in a very old apartment

in a very old city

not far from the George Washington Bridge

that crossed the Hudson

with the aroma

of sunken ships

old Jersey shores

my dad's yearbooks on the shelf

keepsakes for God sakes

the smell of age

and overs

and then so many years later

a different bridge

the same aroma

deer grazing in the yard

a pond at night

the sound of age

calling to each other

under bed sheets

cries of loneliness

mumbled calls to

Jersey in the distance

a father's father from the old country

orphaned and left at Ellis Island

as the welcoming committee 

is one statue with a torch of hope

flickering in greeting'

a father's tears

a mother's passing

the old country so distant now

only photographs carefully place in an album

to hold

those people--- now just images

the world was very close once

and it was small,

but now

continents of grief

separate us

and I wish that torch still burned

to welcome back

all of those lost in the translation

of life into the language of death.

erin-cilberto

8/22/23

Reviews

[Stella Armour]

a very different write from you Jacob, showing us your true self and inner self .
The world was very small once and families stayed very close to where they were born, but now those very people seem not only an age away but a long distance too.
I have always maintained that we are given memories so extensive that we do not ever really lose touch with our roots and where we came from.
A heartrending poem my friend, those that went before would not have had photographs and you do have those to love and cherish ..

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I really appreciate what you have said here, Stella!

j.

[M]

Quite an emotional offering. Reminiscing on the lives of our ancestors that have passed into history; the family we descend from and the places we have journeyed from. Lives begin, are lived and end and they pass on the torch to their next of kin and the journey continues and all along the way, the sights, smells and places are kept in memory and cherished in photos. These too, will be passed on. Maybe this poem itself will your torch to send into the future. A bittersweet poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind review, Makhabat.
j.

[Farjana Chaity]

The vivid imagery of the old apartment, the George Washington Bridge, and the scent of sunken ships evokes a sense of history and nostalgia. The poem carries a deep sense of yearning and the complex emotions that come with the passage of time and the inevitability of change.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and I am sure you know them well...thank you, Chaity,
j.

[John the Baptist]

This one covers a lot of distance, both in time and space. Grandma is very old now, living with a son, but filled with memories of those who came before her. She lives with loneliness and the only thing connecting her now to those who have passed on and the place from which they came is old pictures in an album. Very soon, I think, she will join them.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

very soon...thank you, John...
I still remember my one grandma...never knew the other, she died when my mom was 10. And my dad's dad died when my dad was 16...never knew him either...

[Brad]

I would love to have a real family reunion - that goes back many many generations. To have a chance to talk to the ones who took the risk to immigrate, who carved out a life in the wilderness, with little or no education made a life that resulted in my own. This is beautiful.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

That would be quite the experience wouldn't it?
Thank you, Brad,
j.

[Augustine]

I like how there's no punctuation so it's just a blur of memories. like there's so little but the details there just paint a whole picture so it packs a very nostalgic, longing punch for something you can't get back

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yep, can't get it back.
thank you, Augustine,
j.

[emmajoygreen]

Start to finish I wanted to cry, to wish I could whisper a secret '.. am so sorry,' jacob. Over the years you have written and shared so many poems, many brief, many amusing, many .. .. But this has moved me to feeling pain, regret, a feeling of never a day goes by but.. .. This sir, is poetry.

'..wish that torch still burned
to welcome back
all of those lost in the translation
of life into the language of death.'

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your what you have said here, em.
I always appreciate your visits, but this visit really touched me, because you shared that my poem touched you.
j.

[emmajoygreen]

Jacob, was hard to voice my feelings. An' yes, your poem touched me.

[emmajoygreen]

A dear elderly neighbour recently passed away. She was walking history who didn't know what day it was, but remembered the day our late queen's
return to this country to accede to her father's throne - and far, far more. We humans remember what a new brain takes on board, but less as it it tires/ages. Sad but fact< Protect knowledge whilst able, yes whilst able, yes?

[Chris Shaw]

continents of grief
separate us

This is a beautiful poem of those who lived before us and often the tough journey they had in life. I pictured in my mind the album of photographs, much treasured, of all that remains of their living.

I have my own albums and am reminded I carry my own torch of admiration for the foundations that paved the way for me.

I love this poem J. It says so much and contains much emotion.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

me too, Chris, on those albums, the pictures of those who paved the way...precious.
j.

[NormaZ]

Wonderful imagery! I want to say I really liked this or that, but there are too many to count. I did especially love the ending, continents of grief. Very nice.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind words, NormaZ.
j.

[redzone]

that torch-- it burns only in our heart's memory Jacob, and yet it still causes the tears to flow... we all have those stories and they are reflected and compiled in our human continuance... it's our human dna that tells us the long journey we have made on this orb, but it is in our own genealogy the proves our conectedness and it is in our hearts' mind and photos that keeps it alive... your poetry always allows my mind to wander on wonderful journeys Jacob... thank you!!!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate your kind words, Curt...
I have been rereading your book of poetry. Good stuff.
j.