in another country

in another country

 

 

squandered words

i stuttered through dreams of you

poetry was a foreign language

and i a lonesome traveler

visiting your lips when i could

holding your essence close

 

but my ticket was to an away place

you could not follow,

and life finally finds voice

even when the syllables formed

 

are just past thoughts

translated into

wondering why they mean more now

than they did then

 

poems are my way of reversing fate

even if it is too late,

in some small way,

they take me back to you.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

12/12/17

Reviews

[barleygirl]

So many aspects of your message jump off the page for me . . . the way it feels like two people are speaking different languages, it's so impossible for each one to get thru to the other . . . and (a brilliant observation) the way some memories feel so much better than the actual memory-making felt *sigh!* (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are very kind to me in your reviews, Margie.
thank you so much...and happy xmas..

j.

[Shy Joe]

I see London, I see France! I see Jacobs.... Symbolistic metaphors for Love's Travel Agency. I'll take the July package. Where the heat is on, and tourism is down.

At least the travel fare is included. To bad the fun is "self service". I blame the locals.

Always enjoy reading. Thank you for sharing.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words and the smile, Joe.
j.

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

"Poems are my way of reversing fate..." fantastic line. It shows the magic of poetry to bring back what was lost even in words. But sometimes words are just for you alone...for poetry becomes a foreign language between the two of you. Yet, you continue to write because only in poetry you could bring back the memories...
Another great job, sir. Thanks for sharing.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Dhaye.
j.

[andrew mitchell]

The wisdom of poetry through maturity sets the record straight" What If!" Even worse if you were too shy to ask then it's a life long pondering of "if only" and "what if." So nicely expressed Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, andrew...
j.

[Ardra]

:) poems sure are ways to find things which we may never have had but the words takes us close to them in a special way... so that they live on with you through your words...isn't it J.. :)

its beautiful .. changing the fates in the way we want it to be..
thanks for sharing this with all of us :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind words, Galadriel.
j.

[Priyanshi]

Last Stanza is superb, and strong words...That's true that Poems are the way of reversing fate...
how hard we try, but a time arrives, when we come back to the place, where we may don't want to

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, and insightful thoughts...
j.

[Priyanshi]

My pleasure

[Einstein Noodle]

wistful sir ...one that gets better with reading over again ...takes me on a journey ..young boy, career bound young man and finally to the maturity that gives the gift of speech to a tied tongue ..the gratitude for writing is felt ...i wonder how many have "gotten through" by writing ... love your closing ... some loves we never forget .. nor stop wishing for :(
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, E.
j.

[Paul Bell]

Written words speak volumes.
Now the spoken word. That only works when you walk away. Then after ten minutes, the right words come into your head. Sadly the damage is done by that time.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, always a little too late...thank you, Paul.
j.

[Jimmy Yetts]

Lovely, sad and true.
How often you say so well what others feel deeply and have not found the words to express.
Kudos!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Jimmy.
j.

[emmajoy]

Are those wordsin fact memories or both, j? Are they deep inside but brought out intentionally or suddenly are they so precious they lay dormant till beckoned?

Whichever- they take one back .. and back .. wherequite often, the good, sweet, warm things stand centre stage, Until, perhaps, the spotlight dies. The romantic time-traveller sinking into a tableau of something almost rbut not quite recoverable and thus.. a magic spell. Perhaps.

Your words light flames of thought, j... your metaphors are a more than teacher's grace and favour.. thank you.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are very kind, em...thank you for your words.
j.