Muses might be the fallen angels of transcription

Muses might be the fallen angels of transcription

 

 

the creation of influence

impressionable children of God

we walk sideways towards Sundays

never quite getting the aim of words

accurate

occurrences of deft penning

cunning collaborations with some unknown

ghost writer we can't scare away

 

i knelt in a dark confessional

years ago when i was innocent

making up indiscretions for faith's sake

 

but now my knees are sore from life

and guilty panoramas spread across my conscience

like moss on old stones

 

and i can't un-etch the signature sins

just keep writing until Monday comes

and my new week is spent

 

trying to remember what i forget

or maybe trying to forget

what i remember all too clearly

with what little contrition my pen can find.

 

 

erin-cilberto

4/28/18

Reviews

[Leo]

"and guilty panoramas spread across my conscience"
That was nothing short than brilliant!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Mustanger 98---
j.

[h d e rushin]

for a second I thought I was reading Sexton again; the inter game she played with confession from a singing soul. (they said of Percy Sledge that he would fall on one knee even while writing his songs out). Muses might be the fallen angels of transcription: which means that poetry is kind of truth telling that no other
human emotion can artfully capture. I have forgotten more poems than I have left to write...great poem/ dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i found your response so engrossing...Love Sexton...and Percy Sledge as well...I forget my poems so soon after i write them...there are just too many...and usually i just move on.
thanks, dana

j.

[h d e rushin]

Plath said something similar about not committing poetry to memory. At least not short term memory/

[Chris Shaw]

I remember as a child my best friend attending confession, each week. Having to say her hail Mary's to repent and wipe the slate clean for the following week. Even at that age I thought, she can be as naughty as she likes, she will always be forgiven. As I was a goodey two shoes, I always tried to be good anyway, because, I thought if I wasn't, there would be a mountain there when I eventually faced my Maker. You took me back there, and your second stanza really pulled on my heart strings. Another of your readers has said "Religions crazy circles", and I am left agreeing. Putting it down in words has always helped me. Another talented read from your pen.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for sharing your story of how you relate...appreciate your words, Christine.
j.

[B]

Sometimes we lose words and the idea of writting searching for that muse in life itself
i am one to understand every word you written here

i miss reading for you

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Lingering Soul.
j.

[sette]

very deep in content, it is a poem full of emotions and unhappiness

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, sette.
j.

[sette]

no problem

[m.s.early]

Genius as always. Religion's crazy circles. The marriage of guilt and pennance. But it's never enough...

Until it is... and it's an epic intimate epiphany of the individual that the future is a clean slate between you and Him. Regardless of what any man of any cloth suggests otherwise.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, m.s.,
j.