grazing and gazing toward a once fertile past

grazing and gazing toward a once fertile past

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


grazing and gazing toward a once fertile past

 

 

an old gutted out barn

the cows never came home again

bales of rancid hay

years removed from use

pitchforked years of curdled milk

 

and buffed bank accounts

now withdrawn like the farmer's features

his thumb changes channels

on his antenna driven idiot box

as he recedes from life

 

there are no green pastures left,

he is widowed of a reason to exist

 

an old gutted out barn

in a painting,

hanging on the wall behind him

 

like his life.

 

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

8/9/19

© 2019 jacob erin-cilberto


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Paints a picture of the destined end of the road humans are taking by polluting and overexploiting the nature, 'hanging on the wall behind him like his life'.

Posted 1 Week Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Week Ago

i really like what you saw here, Fairy...
thank you.
j.
Life moves on, not always as we would wish.
Reminds me of an old barn we had on our property when we first bought it and of the old fellow who used to homestead it all

Posted 1 Week Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Week Ago

that is a barn i would have liked to explore...thank you, Dave,
j.
Love the metaphor here thanks Jacob great poem
Ps I read some of Emily Dickinson’s very good thanks 🙏 and downloaded some on my kindle app on my phone

Posted 6 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

thank you, Julie...and glad you are enjoying Emily....she is my very favorite poet...
Julie McCarthy (juliespenhere)

6 Months Ago

Ok cool yes she’s good my fav Aussie poet is Henry Lawson and his one called the last review about.. read more
Like looking in a mirror Jacob. Receding from life is my new favourite description. I shall use it often, as I mumble to myself about that old screeching hinge on the gate that drives me insane(R), but oiling it would mean going outside and that's where all the scary s**t is.
I love how it ends with it being a painting being described... Maybe. 😀

Posted 6 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

thank you for your kind review, Lorry,
j.
Great use of metaphor here Jacob, strong imagery and your lines evoke pathos. Excellent write.

Chris

Posted 6 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

thank you for your kind words, Chris,
j.

Tis sadder than sad... but clearly and oftenly true... Cleverly captured here for all days to come....

N.

Posted 6 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

thank you for your words, Neville,
j.
jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

i like your word, Neville....
oftenly--although not really a word, i think it should be....
Neville

6 Months Ago


I like it too and have used it oftenly enough.. and true :)
Smart and clever imagery and writing skills here J as per all your writes. Yes just like a painting his past also hangs behind him.

Posted 6 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

thank you, andrew,
j.
whoa. the barn is symbolic of the body of the farmer, an anthropomorphic building representing his life. and it got gutted out! it's quite horrific. and a true story to many people.

pitchforked years of curdled milk. beautifully devastating imagery. the sense of loss is overwhelming. and then he just watches TV for the rest of his life. no green pastures left means that there is no hope.

an old gutted out barn in a painting, it's his American Dream that he lost. actually this imagery reminds me of a rural farmer's version of the picture of dorian grey. hanging on the wall behind him, where presumably he wont care to look back at it. a dream/hope/image that is now in the past and never to be awoken again.

the feeling of regret in this poem is stunning. good writing, friend.

Posted 6 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

yes, dorian grey....the picture ages, he does not....i remember.
thank you for your words, Mo.. read more
My last recollection of my Grandpa Dave... was when he was home
and listening to Hank Williams, Sr. records... one after another.
However, my best memories are when my Grandma Minnie milked their Cow
and Grandpa Dave walked the Horse-drawn Plow. They had no sad poems...
only happy memories... and we should do the same. The world belongs to the next
generation of lovers and poets. We are the parchment that holds their dreams.
Amen... Pat

Posted 6 Months Ago


Patricia Wedel

6 Months Ago

Jacob... I do understand... but I love the challenge...
however... too many failures can res.. read more
jacob erin-cilberto

6 Months Ago

but i feel so much inspiration from the past...i think like actors we use the past to conjure up emo.. read more
Patricia Wedel

6 Months Ago

thank you j. Women love to put Bandaids on men's hearts... and vice versa... I feel safe with a "fa.. read more

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Added on August 10, 2019
Last Updated on August 10, 2019

Author

jacob erin-cilberto
jacob erin-cilberto

Carbondale, IL



About
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at two community colleges and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. Friending works two ways. If we have had .. more..

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