scrambled eggs

scrambled eggs

 

 

i hear voices chattering

from within the home

hear him laughing at space

 

he hears nothing

but his eyes dart around the room

and the smiles tell him he is understood

 

even though the stories make no sense anymore

he tells them anyway

 

and wonders if she's still listening

wherever she is

 

the clamor soon dies down,

time for bed check

 

his alone time

with thoughts of her lying beside him

 

next day's breakfast will bring more stories

he'll get through the day with a scrambled smile

a laugh or two

and hope she will save her last chuckle

for him

 

at their rendezvous 

when he hears that late night clock

ticking,

in what's left his mind.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

10/8/16

Reviews

[1VJ]

Beautifully forlorn, its a shame when time ravages the mind, a delightful title for a rather bleak and hopeless future.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Paloma...

j.

[D Connolly]

Love this. Beautiful account of our elderly "forgotten"

[jacob erin-cilberto]

appreciate your visit and kind words.

j.

[James]

What a sad, overwhelming sense of aloneness. Never a disappointment, Jacob. Emotions are like scrambled eggs sometimes.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, James.
j.

[Bacchus]

I'm back.
chill ;)

a scrambled smile is my favorite...
just perfectly twisted into fakeness.

I think they make bottle scrambled eggs
that you can just poor into the pan for moments like this.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like your reply...thank you, Bacchus...

j.

[Ana Papaya]

This feels sad and romantic at the same time.
He goes on telling his stories but his only audience is the memory of a woman.
(Is what it feels like to me...)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, Ana.

j.

[Bala Gorthi]

Reading this brought tears in my eyes..
The loner's pain is clearly felt in this poem. Even if someone calls it a condition, it still shows the attachment this person has for the bereaved partner. To lose someone we love the most is agony eternal for the loser.

Kudos to your writing. Thanks for sharing this touching work......".

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Bala.

j.

[Corset]

I dunno why but this feels like a ghost story, a wife who haunts lovingly his mind, listening to the stories told and told again, smiling at the memories he replays like a Nina Simone album till ol' Tom can join her,
her laughter ringing in his mind.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Corset...appreciate your insights.

j.

[Lydia Shutter]

Oh my....this one gave me goosebumps, Jacob. When people have been married for a long time and one gets dementia, all that is left is the love. The stories of what once was might be a bit skewed, but they are told and they are heard. The love is what keeps a person going. What a poignant tale. The clock ticking....the stories unraveling in his mind. Have to say when I read the title, all I could think of was the theme song to "Frazier"...tossed salad and scrambled eggs. Deeply emotional write, Jacob. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Lydi.

j.

[Paul Bell]

You can almost hear the conversation.
The journey it took is spot on.
Leading us to the painful ticking of the clock.
The mind withdrawing into itself.
Bloody good poem Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Paul.

j.

[Gee]

I'm taking it that this is dementia related. When age and illness relieve us of our memories, what then, have we never been. This is sad, so ,so sad, but not fir them, for us that have to watch loved ones that no longer realise who we are, and we then end up mourning them whilst they are still living. Superb Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Gee.

j.