Chapbook

Putting yourself out there.

I am making a necklace,

stringing ugly little beads

into a delusional, beautiful whole,

green and magenta glass

surrounding rare bits of turquoise and pearl.

I am dancing around my own fire,

covered in naked shadows of black and white,

hiding pieces of real flesh inside

artfully arranged chunks of plastic fruit.

I am bobbing down river rapids,

clinging to jagged bloodied rocks

while perfectly sound rafts float by.

I am waving my arms frantically,

hoping to god you do not see me. 

Reviews

[John Ryan]

this particular poem of yours sticks out from the several that i read of yours.
it really gives a Silvia Plath or Emily Dickensonescness, not sure if that is a word.

I really see and feel the emotion and its has an almost slam poetry kind of feel to it.

Brilliant. Pure Brilliance.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Wow thanks...thrilled! I love made up words...very Shakespearean!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow, i see the speaker saying...i am seeing my own flaws and they are more evident right now than ever...and i hope you cannot see me as i go bobbing by...

and yet the speaker is waving her arms frantically?

what of that?

like Plath being upset when she was found in her grandparents' basement...when she overdosed...but how was she found? her brother heard her cries...

we really do want attention, we just don't want to make a bad showing...especially when it is in front of one we love.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Jacob, you are too kind...you're review is all long and Plath-filled and insightful. I'm going back to my rock now.