Plastic Flowers

Plastic Flowers

 

 

overly enthusiastic alliteration

overwhelms

 

succinctly spliced synonyms

secede

 

the union of words

breaks up

 

Civil War of witless concern

conceded

 

linguistics lie languidly 

listless

 

on a field of dazzling daisies

deceased

 

there are no flowers left

on either side of the poem

 

rigid rhyme reflects

residuals

 

as the reader wrests 

philandering punctuation

 

that dictates deliberate diction

as dead daisies

 

wander willfully

among aspiring minds

 

misfiring

two-sides sadistically succumbing

 

as lines linger in a forgery

begging the question

as to whether or not

 

the flowers were ever real.

 

 

erin-cilberto

4/21/24

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Well, it's better to have plastic flowers than only drab gray walls to look at I guess. After reading this my tongue needed to rest for five minutes. (smile) Not really. I like the rapid fire alliteration and short punchy style. Of course your extended metaphor goes down smoothly as a cold drink of water on a hot day. It's always a pleasure to read your words, F.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate your kind review, Fabian,
j.

[Linda alexander]

Real flowers plastic flowers artificial flowers creative flowers fake flowers fake rains real rains artificial rains rain in hallucinations real happiness perceived happiness created by medical prescriptions happiness by just sleeping twenty four seven if we can all in there for display If we choose real flower we may root to ground of reality little more deeper, if we choose real flower grown in artificial rain we cannot say the difference, if artificial food consequences may be there in the future at least that is what my mind say. Really thought-provoking piece of poetry. I am in old school I like real flowers in general not plastic ones at least at present.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the whole damn world is getting artificial ...artificial intelligence...life is losing its realness.
thank you for your kind review, Linda,
j.

[A Poor Player]

This is exquisite. So tenderly written. LOVE the alliteration. I'm guilty as charged when it comes to alliteration. This line is bliss 'there are no flowers left on either side of the poem'. You're awfully bright with your poetry, so many clever motifs running through. This is the kind of poetry more people should be reading.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate that kind compliment...Poor Player.
j.

[Beccy]

I am of the opinion that Artificial intelligence, at whatever lofty level it eventually reaches, will never be capable of understanding the difference betwixt a real and beautifully fragrant bloom and the fakery of plastic, (and what a 'plastic' world we live in nowadays.)

Might be wrong, but whilst there are poets who understand this and sunsets and sunrises to be marveled at, I stand by my words.

Beccy.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Ah yes....thank you Beccy, and just keep standing...there must always be poets who understand this.
j.

[Papaya]

This has me thinking about the authenticity of a poet's words.
We may be tempted to embellish and dress things up, and get wrapped up in making a poem sound so poetic that it is no longer real.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I like that, yes. So poetic it is no longer real.
Real poetry means something even with its flaws...flaws are what create beauty.
thank you, Ana,
j.

[Thomas W Case]

Powerful work. You bring this to life.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Thomas...
j.

[emmajoygreen]

A lesson in caution perhaps: watch where you place the letters, be alert to punctuation plus both true and relevant meter. Plastic flowers tis the master's offering: beware platitudes, meanings intended but not centred on exaggeration for theatrical effects. Perhaps. Guess this is metaphorical, see the word below, 'alliteration' show its face and realise how little I know when specifics are in first class order. Perhaps

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes there is so much form, the real feeling is denied.
I like real flowers, real poetry, real words...they may die, but while they live, they are shockingly beautiful.
thank you, em,
j.

[emmajoygreen]

How much I believe and understand that.. better a glimpse than nothing at all, Makes me think of stone tenements without a single blade of grass. No wonder that environment bars hope.

[Vol]

Erin,
" that dictates deliberate diction
as dead daisies" reminds me of Yeats reading "Lake Ise of Innisfree." He sounds like death eating on a cracker. It's a great poem anyway...
Vol

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Death eating on a cracker...love it.
maybe some peanut butter on that cracker...or maybe some words that spread as thickly as peanut butter?
j.

[Vol]

Words are my favorite food.

[Andrew John]

Some great alliteration here, J, with those interesting thoughts. And words. I've read this through a few times now, and enjoyed it - rather thoroughly.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I would love to hear you read this one, Andrew...
that would be fun...and thanks for the kind words,
j.

[Andrew John]

I'll get my voice on this, Jacob. Only just seen your text, so apologies for being late. We have bank holiday here on Monday, and the lib/IT is closed tomorrow, of course. But I'll enjoy reading this, and will send it to you ASAP.

[Desert Knave]

It has been a long time since I went alliteration-crazy and I think I might need to again. Yeah, sometimes you can take the need for fancy wordsmithing to the point that the message disappears in the sleight-of-handwriting. ~Jim

[jacob erin-cilberto]

that is so true...thank you, Jim.

[Stu. T.H.]

Honesty is never supposed to be a shot taken at aspiring minds, nor should it be prioritised over Hope, its final destination. A read is never a ticket for bullet trains, a book is never a speeding lane and a mind can grow only ever dull if the critics, its co-architects, bulldoze it until it is nought but a path to be walked all over, unnoticed. Perhaps we do deserve better than just plastic flowers; But what if that is all the other person has to give? I wonder, even in instances when sophistication is absent and spoken words are unrefined, shouldn't we give them a chance? Perhaps, the plastic flowers would never grow, but nor would they stop blossoming and wither. Though the flowers aren't real, maybe the meaning of what is given is most prominent, and the florist isn't a con. Perhaps that florist could one day, be brave enough to find and plant their own seed? Then maybe, the growing flower, the passion, would be real.
Regardless, thank you for sharing your work, author jacob erin-cilberto. Though I think my interpretation of the poem is fairly off, I liked it a lot. Have a nice day.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I think your insights are spot on and I appreciate everything you said in this review.
the guts of poetry...some really get it.

[Stu. T.H.]

Thank you again for sharing your work, I think the wisdom it carries is scarce in this age.