xeroxed insanity

xeroxed insanity

 

 

 

suburbia kneels

in coffin rows,

all the heads turned the same way

towards a grave of sameness

 

the inevitable likeness

only difference is the number on the door of monotony

the independence we fought for 200 plus years ago

is a letter stamped with a flag,

in a mailbox that looks like all the others

 

the postman has to ring twice to be sure

to have the right house of commonality

and the kids dressed in sweaters from the mall shop

selling a name brand that everyone has to have

 

their smiles light up the street

and from the shadows emerge

those cookie cutter shapes

those calculated cocoons

so safe because they don't stand out

in

or up

 

to the capitalistic maneuvering 

of a merchandised society

spilling coffee on the tablecloths

of dinner tables of contented clones

 

all feeling the same sameness.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

1/12/16

Reviews

[-inactive now-]

Dystopia..
Cookie cutter shapes, brands that everyone has to have, merchandised society.
This poem resonates quite strongly with me.
It gave me images and feelings like what I'd expect to get from reading a dystopian novel. Almost chilling to think that this is becoming a reality that is slowly enveloping the world.
I loved it :)
...though I am glad the sameness and conformity of the big city suburban world is far from where I live.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Josiah,

j.

[-inactive now-]

You're welcome

[Kelsey Ann]

I love this piece!! It perfectly exemplifies the death of suburbia and the insane cookie-cutter mentality that permeates many people's minds. My favorite line is "stand out, in, or up" - great word play :D

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Kelsey..

j.

[Dalton]

What an excellent piece this is. The implications of this work speaks to the adult, especially one such as myself months from my 25th year. This poem resonates with the very adult who has learned to favour authenticity over trends in art, thought, fashion etc. This poems strikes back at the herd. The author may have written this piece to open the eyes of his youth readers. I'd like to think that it was written like an explosion of fireworks to celebrate the thought of the select few who've found commonality to be distasteful.
Thank you Jacob, this may be my new favourite, to be read again, and many more times over.
I can see the fireworks now.
Dalton.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind review, Dalton.
j.

[softlyfall]

This is absolutely and terrifyingly real. We are inculcated through media and social paradigms from the moment of birth, driven like sheep to monocolor holding pens.
The subtle references are wonderful.
The bittersweet sarcasm, also wonderful.
I love it

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, softlyfall.

j.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Very clever wording sir... more and more this world is all about the Benjamins though it should be about the humanity.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

so true, thank you for your words, Dale,

nice pic by the way...

j.

[...]

I guess you had something to say, and damn what a way of saying it...amazing!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, lynn.

j.

[redzone]

I am reading and talking in monotone because to have a single stry thought emerge into the world will unraval all threads of the social fabric that capitalist society demands obedience for so that we do not act except in the way that they want us to loyal and gung ho wait this is a chinese word and we are speaking american here and we americans have no social conscience because if there is even one single thought that resides outside their well trimed middle class box the cascade affect will be a revolution and we all know that there can be no revolution since we have the founding fathers revolution to end all revolutions and everything is the best that can be and the world is just crazy jealous of us and so we have to kill them all or make them just like us and god said so and that settles it thank you very much... just xerox over and over again and it will be true... oh and who needs a postman we all know everything so no news is good news or just follow the news we see fit to print you all are too stupid to think for yourselves anyway and if you do it will only lead to trouble

how am I doing Jacob, can I xerox your poem over and over again... ;0) I think you could also call this poem Levittown revisited... ah the small of sameness its sterile empty headedness and your poem nailed it!! ooops was that a rebellious word I just saw running across your poetic pages Jacob??!!! go words go, escape and emancipate!!!

sorry Jacob I get carried away sometimes when I read good poetry and yours always invite lots of wayward thoughts and words and thank you so very much for each of them

redzone

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Curt...i appreciate this response very much...we can only hope that our poems touch a nerve...and what you have expressed tells me this one might have done that.

j.

[Solar]

'the postman has to ring twice to be sure'

That throws in a touch of 'noir' ...behind the net curtains of normality, blue velvet?

'dinner tables of contented clones' - very Stepford!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"gee, marilyn, i thought you were my friend, gee, marilyn, i thought you were my friend"
:)))

thank you, Solar...appreciate your response...

j.

[Solar]

quite so, quite so :D

[Terpsichore]

It seems to me, that the poet will always look deeper than the surface; and if not entirely able to break free, will understand more than most that a five hundred dollar Versace T shirt is still no more than a couple of yards of fabric.

With the sedately drawn pace of a Volvo estate,
and the twitching of curtains, the gilt garden gate
Suburbia is calling.
Stretching row upon row, in brick on brick splendour,
To the profit and greed of the good mortgage lender
Suburbia is, and always will be.


And as always, you give pause for thought.

T

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, T.
j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

I remember my parents saying, we married because everyone else did and we had children for the same reason. Meanwhile, between moving, house repair, dad quiting jobs without having another one, stealing my money I sent home from Vietnam and the fights between them they finally died. In the sameness of plots, silence & gravestones.

Deeply felt sad tale!

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for sharing what you did, Al...i appreciate your words.

j.