the sound of shuffling feet

the sound of shuffling feet

 

 

 

friends racing towards the finish line

and here

I sit sternly

writing poems

waiting for the gun to go off

so I can start my race

 

and face

the lapping they are composing

to the song

for which my lyrics suffer

 

in comparison

 

the emotions are deeper

than some chamber

on a pistol

 

the crack of the bullet

the doctors mull

referee

make house calls

and call houses with news

 

meanwhile the marathon

is cut short for some

shorter for others

 

and I am still at my desk

at the starting line

fingers triggering the keys

caressing them for some sign of life

 

age is relative

so, I have heard

maybe too, the sound of shots

 

my race begun

or a fatal wound

the bleeding is through my eyes.

 

 

erin-cilberto

2/13/24

Reviews

[Vol]

Jacob,
Age is relative, time is relative, and all I know is I am ten years closer to a grave than I want to be... and there is nothing relative about it... I am OLD.
Vol

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Join the crowd, Vol.
j.

[apennylate]

You and Sami are the first ones I read when I revisit the works on this site. It is because I hold you both in high esteem when it comes to writing.

A colorless conjecture using shadows and rust.

"referee
make house calls
and call houses with news"

The stark contrast between time and effort, patience and waste...

I, too, sit at a starting line with nothing to do but write.
Watching as the beginning passes by and the end offers the invitation of a disjointed reunion with why I began.

As always, impressed.
Thank you for sharing

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your very kind review, Chase,
j.

[Soren]

I too have felt the race, sometimes a sprint at others a marathon. Some times in the blocks the gun goes off and my legs fail me. I can hear the tramping of the feet in meter. I sometimes lean into the turns and see the competition far in front. Tripping and falling is part of the sport. Loved the poem Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Soren,
j.

[Thomas W Case]

Powerful work. Superb metaphor.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Thomas,
j.

[Betty Hermelee]

I believe for you it's a race of time...how much is left for you to create...VS ...how many yards can a runner finish in his lifetime....there is no comparison....so one must finish his own race (whatever that may be) in how own time...even with shuffling feet... or bleeding through your eyes....nicely written
Warmly, B

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate what you said here...poets all running our own races,
thank you, Betty,
j.

[Betty Hermelee]

You're very welcome J.
Warmly, B

[Poetic Beauty]

We bleed for our artistic talents. Sometimes we are slow to start the race and sometimes they are left silent and speechless on the pages. There is a good comparison to writing and life with races entwined in your lines in this piece

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, P.B.
j.

[Poetic Beauty]

As always it was a pleasure to read

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

The bleeding is through my eyes
Last line
So significant
The heart is bleeding to where the light gets in
Beautiful

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Julie,
j.

[NormaZ]

What a powerful poem, and strong images. I love the ending, "my race begun or a fatal wound the bleeding is through my eyes." A violent beginning of your race! I think when you put your work out there it can feel like getting shot. This one will stay with me.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, it can feel that way...thank you for your kind review, NormaZ.
j.

[Amanda Reynolds]

And, you are still here, telling your story and sharing your wisdom...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, Amanda,
j.

[Stella Armour]

Age is what you make it jacob, lots of the younger generation hardly move let alone shuffle.

Maybe don't look too hard at what is going on in the world that you can't change, keep doing what makes you feel calm and contented ... let the others fight it out, they that don't know anything else..

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes I feel they don't know anything else...thank you, Stella,
j.