Blistered Belief

Blistered Belief

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


Blistered Belief

 

 

homeless silver-spooned child

grown up wearing goodwill jeans

and a shirt with a beautiful collar

but missing several buttons

and faded to blue and pink,

an unintentional tie-dye

 

remembers his mansion

manicured lawn

and two-car garage

 

now he rests against a stone wall

in a two-bum alley

rubbing two nickels together

trying to turn them into dollars

 

another bottle is on his mind

his brain is sipping Jack Daniels

even though his stomach

is crying for sustenance

 

he might just drink himself to death

hates sharing is turf

panhandlers don't mate

 

they reach for the stars

but realize the stars are burn outs

just like he

 

burn outs once had their day

his slipped away as fast as he could spend

homeless entity

pockets full of holes

as is his mind

 

but there is nothing to put into his pocket anyway

except a grudge against life

 

there is no forgiveness needed for a saint

but his halo is disposed

as he was deposed

from the elite

to no shoes on his feet

 

his brain is now 80 proof

but proof of what

he ponders

 

still rubbing those nickels together

trying to believe in miracles

with his supposition

 

that God once had a two-garage

before he gave it up

to walk barefoot

and perform

those miracles of which

this panhandler's blistered

and cut feet

hope to someday find

actually exist

 

so he can once again

polish that spoon

of circumstance.

 

 

erin-cilberto

10/6/19

© 2019 jacob erin-cilberto


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Reviews

Poor little rich boy ends up spending his trust fund and leaving his pseudo complaints about life at the bottom of the bottle. Do the homeless panhandlers wish they could be what he once was? Perhaps they would handle the money differently.....perhaps.... Great story between the lines here. Lydi**

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

I wonder how they would handle the money...
thank you for your insights, Lydi...
j.
J., what I read here is an "entitled man" who lived on family riches, until he blew his inheritance, perhaps with little talent, too. Maybe it was excessive spending, gambling, drugs, or the whiskey. The means matter not because the end is the same. It's said if a man won't find his praying (or humble) knees, God (or fate) will put him on his knees, his perspective ever-changed.

Alternatively, some find themselves in this poor state from birth, never granted the tools or good luck to rise above it. This is true in remote, rural areas and many inner cities, the broken scattered among the skyscrapers, luxury cars, and the "entitled" few, not knowing what lies beneath them.

A remarkable poem and well- titled.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

i really like where you took this R.E.
thank you for the journey...
j.
endearing in it's own way. it's like a coming-of-age story where the protagonist just gets poorer and drunker, sadly allegorical for modern man. the memories of good is like memories of childhood.

on a side note, i've visited the Jack Daniels distillery and loved it. one of my favorite places in the brewery/winery/distillery terroir.

"his brain is now 80 proof" is a fantastic line. that means it's 40% alcohol, by god! give this boy some water!

"spoon/ of circumstance." interesting line. it brings up the philosophical debate of free will or determinism. what was the cause for this narrator's standard of living? nature/nurture? economy?

thank you for sharing, Jacob! this poem/journey has been thoughtful.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for your insights, Mondaine...appreciate your visit...
j.
someone needs to put music to this
great story telling, would kill it as lyrics

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for your kind words, Edie...
You can feel the war within this person. Experiences from all sides that lead to a question mark of character.

"his brain is now 80 proof"

What a killer line. I enjoyed this Jacob.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you, duff,
j.
Your tale tells me of someone fallen from grace and yearns to regain their comfortable position and cast off the igmony of poverty. Meanwhile alcohol dulls the pain and gets in the way of recovery. Indeed I have read of people in this position and it seems their fall is all the greater having once been well off. A torid tale indeed Jacob and one that provokes some mixed feelings.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for your kind review, John,
j.
As I read this, I picture a man down on his luck and a drunk to boot. A man born to wealth, but the wealth was not his ... it was daddy's. He tried to please but couldn't cope with the demands to succeed, events spiralled out of control and he turned to the bottle.
Now, he can't get along with anyone ... even the other rummy's won't have much to do with him. Still, he holds out hope that he can retrieve what he had if he were more accepting of God ... although, like him, the Son of God had his parental issues as well.
He has everything he truly needs in front of him ... but money will not work ... he is missing love.

Now, why the hell did I go there?

Good one, j.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for those insights, Ted...i appreciated and enjoyed where you went...
so interestin.. read more
This seems to be societies major problem, resulting in the rise of major homeless camps.
First thing I thought about, although it was not primarily drugs involved, was the Presley fortune that went from 100,000 million plus, down to 14,000 thousand (+- current lawsuits)
Money money!!

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

yes, money money money...
i like that...the Presley fortune...interesting...
thank you.. read more
Had it all, lost it all, including his faith. But he's still hanging on to hope. Hope can be everything or nothing, it depends on the person. Tis a sad story that so many actually live.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

so true what you say, Rhayne, so true,
thank you,
j.
From a mansion to the gutter. He had it all and blew it. He found his all in the likes of Jack Daniels or maybe alot inferior in quality. How do you get out of that? Miracles? Maybe the drink makes him think they exist. He will die in the gutter, but looking up at the stars wishing. Great stuff. It happens and it is tragic.

Chris

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

thank you for your kind review, Chris,
j.

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Added on October 7, 2019
Last Updated on October 7, 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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