Leftovers Under the Bus

Leftovers Under the Bus

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


Leftovers Under the Bus

 

 

cellophane smiles

plastic wrapped insinuations

resolutions of dissolution

 

hidden in drawers of secrecy

as his love pours into Tupperware tepidness and

illusions of allusion

 

as love poems

write scabs over themselves, the scars

intrusions of confusion.

 

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

10/20/19

© 2019 jacob erin-cilberto


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Reviews

Your words bring so much to mind, One of betrayal and no kindness in mind. People have a way of seeing only their way. cellophane smiles is a description of very plastic fake people. Nice write ;-]

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you for your kind review, willow...
j.
These are powerful although I had to read three times.
I love intrusions of confusion!

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you, jasper,
j.
two things came to mind while reading your poem Jacob... first came the saying "thrown under the bus" and its companion, "sold down the river", both expressions of betrayal and the inhuman way we treat each other both I love relationships and broader in society..

and then I was reminded of the song "Love Stinks" by the J Giles Band....

ah love! illusion's allusion and always confusion's intrusion....

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you for your kind review, Curt,
j.
It's the story of civilization: being thrown under the bus! It's nice to think that love poems can take away all rejection, abuse and pain . . . but like you say . . . they just hide it all!!!
T

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you, and yes...they just hide it....
j.
Jacob,
Weather we throw people or trash under the bus, it is always a messy situation. Negligence and to a degree cowardice play into our actions. Another gem from the Master Wordsmith!
Peace,
Richie b.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you for your kind review, richie,
j.
Somehow I get the feeling this is more than an anti-littering ad. Under the bus brings to mind being thrown under the bus, meaning being ditched or dumped unceremoniously. Here we are seeing memories of such a dumping, wrapped in symbols of refuse. The pain may be stored in "Tupperware tepidness," but it is still there, in hidden scabs and scars. Sometimes love really hurts.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you for your insightful words, John,
j.
The proverbial pill, comes to mind. Adjusting to less than desirable circumstance.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you for your read and comment, Valormore...
j.
dear Jacob... many Moons ago, I was widowed...
We both worked in the same Company... a Co-worker
came to my desk in the following week after the
funeral service and interment... and handed me
a Band Aid... there were no words, but I was "touched deeply".
When a Love ceases to be... there is a wound that needs tending.
I understand that it takes time for healing. truly, Pat


Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

I am so sorry for your loss, Pat...and I appreciate your insights and sharing.
j.
This is a fine poem, the imaginative approach, the last stanza.. I like the melodrama and how it was written from experience, one can feel it.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

thank you for your kind words, Gandre,
j.
Okay, I read the poem and I had visions and thoughts and then I laughed at myself when I read the reviews. Completely different take I had, that's why I laughed. First, I considered the title, 'Leftovers Under the Bus' and immediately I pictured the schoolyard several blocks down the street, the buses parked side-by-side, resting for the night. A slight breeze blowing debris from underneath the buses, rattling the cellophane wrappers across the asphalt. Some still have remnants of their treasure. Then, the occasional Tupperware bin some kid discarded at their Mom's disdain comes rolling out. I thought, okay, she opened the kitchen drawer and found she was out of plastic wrap, Tupperware it is. Looking at the clear plastic bowl you can almost tell what was in it but you just can't be sure. And last but not least, the tattered and worn paperback book of poetry that someone is probably ripping their bookbag apart looking for, full of love poems with certain lines highlighted. Obviously, they were comparing to their real-life pain and emotions, drudging up past relationships gone wrong. Maybe they meant to throw it away.

Funny how poems can be worded to create different pictures, thoughts, and interpretations. Guess that's why it's called Poetry. I'm not a poet and I haven't studied poetry. I'm not good at writing it but since I joined this site, I've come to love reading it. And I love your work. I have since day one. So, if I'm way off on the intended meaning, I apologize. Just know that in any case, I loved it.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Weeks Ago

i think the only intended meaning a poet would have is whatever the reader interprets...and hope tha.. read more

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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on October 20, 2019
Last Updated on October 20, 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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