Believe It Or Not Believe It Or Not
This is my first attempt at slam poetry, and I'm excited to film a performance of this piece over the coming day.
WHAT AM I?: Nephilim WHAT AM I?: Nephilim
A teen boy gets killed, but trades his soul for another chance. He changes. A girl notices the new boy with silver eyes.

jacob erin-cilberto : Writing

pour me another poem, please

pour me another poem, please

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


pour me another poem, please she was just pieces of herself lost nights another bottle waiting for dawn her guitar soaked with ..
nothing

nothing

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


nothing crawlspaces and frozen faces frozen keyboards ice box words, chapped lips trying to say them aloud the temp..
scene of a beautiful crime

scene of a beautiful crime

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


scene of a beautiful crimeforensic fuseshort circuited wisdom,footprints burned into the heartlightning cracks the limbs of sensethey falli falltake t..
Autumn's escape

Autumn's escape

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


Autumn's escape the insignificant other dwells in a land of make-believe of potent potables of an inquiring mind as to why ..
diagram me

diagram me

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


diagram mei spend hours in your dreamsand you still don't notice mejust as in the awakeningyou walk right by my daydreamsnot even a turn of the head,t..
street corner renderings

street corner renderings

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


street corner renderings indigent feelings poorer prophecies of dire happiness smiles for quarters dropped in a guitar case ..
stained interceptions

stained interceptions

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


stained interceptionsname dropping writerslike sorting old shirtswith limp collarsand worn size tags,too many washes of dialectand intellectthe tide r..
and we write of them, still

and we write of them, still

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


and we write of them, still there have been Plaths and Sextons Berrymans and Jarrells.... none filled with barrels ..
23 Fitzroy Road

23 Fitzroy Road

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


23 Fitzroy Road i wonder if sylvia read her birthday letters from ted blew out her candles before succumbing to the gas her goodbye part..
5 Lines Closer

5 Lines Closer

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


5 Lines Closer happiness may be a warm gun but i like the texture ofcold steel as it rests resolutely against my temple ..

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