At the Blue Flame Inn

At the Blue Flame Inn

 

 

 

tragic angel

fire in her eyes

quietly submitting

to the ash reality

that is her life 

 

the wings wave wearily

in wary pursuit

of icicle finger paintings

the sordid frozen faces

weeping by the grave

 

that is but an epistle

read by some priest

who never got to know love

or the closeness

that is more than a skin deep prophecy

 

recited outside the confessional

of conventional love

the strings of her guitar softly strummed

her heart in mine

we solved lyrics

like Sherlock Holmes' clues

 

outside the music box

where the dancer would spin

and where she is still in

all of my dreams

tragic angel

submitting but fighting

 

and now 

her will is mine

and the ash

is finally retreating

and I have yet to strike the match

that is to set fire to the future.

 

 

erin-cilberto

2/13/24

Reviews

[Thomas W Case]

Great work. Sharp and vivid.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Thomas,
j.

[andrew mitchell]

When I first read this the ashes had me thinking this is about a cigarette burning down while listening to the juke box. But maybe there was a girl front stage or in the background. Anyway I enjoyed it.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

You are closer than you could ever imagine.
thank you, andrew.
j.

[JD Major]

...Sadness, disappointment, despair, and a passing of the flame ... of hope, faint, yet still hope.
Liked it! Thanks Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, JD,
j.

[Ookpik]

Having read you for a while, Jacob, I think there's a strong likelihood that a deep, personal tragedy informs this piece. The ash images, and fires, recur in your writing and they almost always align parallel to themes of grief, longing and of loss.

I won't dig any deeper there, respectfully, as I don't really feel it's my business beyond what's presented to the reader. My sympathies, if I'm correct, and my apologies if I'm not.

Redemption, or a desire for it feels like the driving force in the work, and, though it's only through inference that I say this, I'd say that regret is what generally informs a feeling like that.

We cannot undo what's been done, or what's happened over the course of our lives, but we do have the capacity to decide how we carry our burdens with us - even if those that we want most to forgive us may not be around anymore to do so.

I make a lot of assumptions here, but regardless, excellent last pair Jacob, welcome back.

-Ook

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, deep..and many years ago....but still the effect.
thank you, Ook,
j.

[emmajoygreen]

We follow our own path to belief, or.. not. To each his or her own. Nothing or nobody can show you the way to God or - His brother 'neath another name. All that Man or Woman has to remember is that only Self can find the way. Best to remember, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.. So sayeth that spinning angel trying to choose when and where to stop. Perhaps?

A poem - food for thought, from an all-hopeful companion looking for a light ready, waiting. Time doth wait .. sans demands.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we do have to find our own way....
reminds me of an old song, The reverend Mr. Black by the Kingston Trio.
"you got to walk that lonesome valley, you got to walk it by yourself, oh nobody else can walk it for you, you got to walk it by yourself."
j.

[emmajoygreen]

The fact am reading the title and content of that song is so akin to a phone call I shared earlier this evening - how weird. Must go watch and listen to the video now. Thank you!

[Stella Armour]

I feel ( no offence to anyone intended) that i escaped all the religous preaching when at 13 i refused to be confirmed into the Church of England.
To this day i can hear and see the vicar not understanding this wayward child.
To some religion brings comfort but with it unfounded fears dictated at an early age when impressions are made.
Rescue the angel Jacob ... let her see a different light , the one of love in your eyes.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

This is so interesting...I am quite moved by the different interpretations to this piece.
Thank you, Stella,
j.

[Betty Hermelee]

I believe this is a rebuttal on Ash Wednesday and religion in general……where the priest prayers means nothing…..doesn’t even know about love…but the poor angel does….the angel is in your dreams…even after she disappears…. You hesitate to light a candle because even though she has shrugged her ashes, the future may be in doubt…..
Warmly, B

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Very interesting portrayal of meaning here...love it.
Thank you for your words, Betty,
j.

[Betty Hermelee]

You're very welcome J... and Thanks for your comment!
Warmly, B

[John the Baptist]

Obviously this one was inspired by Ash Wednesday, which was observed this week. Organized religion doesn't fare well here, as it is suggested the priests don't know real love in the way the sad angel did. The feeling is the angel is no longer with us, but the speaker has not forgotten her.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Never even thought of Ash Wednesday when I wrote this...totally different state of mind...but it definitely fits as an interpretation...and I find it quite interesting...thank you, John,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

Lighting a Candle and saying a Prayer is as close to Passion as the Epistle allows... Amen...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Pat,
j.