poeming gray

poeming gray

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto

poeming gray 

 

 

a very old man

an ancient typewriter

on a dusty desk at dusk

his eyes are bad,

the ribbon is fading

around his neck

he feels the compression

words choking his vanity

 

he was once a great writer

published thousands of poems

dozens of books,

he was a best seller

gave readings in smoky coffee houses

 

was likened to Dylan

to Ferlinghetti

to all of his heroes

and he was one of theirs

 

and then he got very old

and his instrument got very old

and his desk lost its balance

and even his spectacles 

could not help him find his words

someone bought him a new ribbon

but he needed new fingers

a new mind

"less is more" they always said

 

but "none is unbearable" he thought

as he raised the gun

and finally started to type.

 

 

erin-cilberto

8/17/2020

© 2020 jacob erin-cilberto


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Reviews

You packed a punch with this one. In my opinion, artists never lose their touch, the magic always stays. Age just makes them pessimistic.

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

yes, i guess that is true, thank you for your insightful words, Fairy,
j.
one of the curses of any art form is having it slip away
It happens very slowly but it happens
extremely fortunate is the person who can endlessly retain both desire and result

Posted 1 Month Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Month Ago

absolutely true, Dave....
thank you,
j.
pour le meilleur et pour le pire, they say. He's never old and he's never drained, for he is forever alive in his old wrinkly fingers. I love that man and I wish he could give himself some credits. He offered enough beauty, and he deserves to rest. Thank you, sir. Thank you, Jacob.

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

thank you for your very kind words, Lale,
j.
Ah yes growing very old in any profession is difficult to say the least, but growing old as a writer is very tough, eyes get blurry, typewriter sticks, desk gets chipped and wobbly, etc. words don't play easily....but alas at the end of his rope he finds that "less is more" and even if he is able to put a few words together to create a poem, iy's better than when all hope is lost. Great lines and well stated. Fondly, Betty

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

thank you for your insights, Betty...I so enjoy your reviews...
j.
Betty Hermelee

2 Months Ago

I really liked this poem Jacob! Thanks for sharing!
Having stepped off the relentless train for a while and struggling to write (although never in the class you describe and share) I can relate to this and the aging process. I guess now might be the time to reassess and perhaps think more about what we leave behind? This is a powerful piece, missed your crisp and eloquent and intelligent poetry Jacob.

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

thank you for your kind review, John,
j.
I love all the ways your poem relates to the trajectory of a writing life, but I'm reminded of how people's taste for various artforms changes thru the ages. Some people watch old classic films & think they are so outdated & boring, no action, no special effects. Some people watch old concerts & wonder why musicians just stood in front of the microphone playing & singing, instead of dancing around half naked with heavy makeup, costumes, & hair blown by invisible fans. Then there are those who think typewritten font looks too quaint & smeary! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

and then there are those of us who feel the old movies were the best...and concerts used to actually.. read more
How old is very old, Jacob? My grandma was an ace academician and taught her grandchildren math till she was 88! The day she passed, at 93 years, she did so with all her brilliance intact. Her last words as she gasped were, "So this is the valley of the shadow of death. I see it right ahead!" She actually narrated what she experienced while dying, till the last frontier, till it was humanly possible for her. And it was the most literary experience of my life! One that a hundred books cannot replace. So I am convinced, there's hope for us all. Stay blessed and writing always, my friend!

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

thank you for sharing what you did, Dhara...gives me hope.
j.
Dhara_Ditzy Kat

2 Months Ago

I just wanted to tell you how I feel about it, my friend. You're welcome always.
A writer writes first and foremost for oneself. As you say, writing is akin to breathing. Having said that, some amount of deterioration in faculties and intellect is inevitable as one can't remain sharp as a tack forever. Then again, if it brings me the bliss that nothing else can, I'd go on till the very last sputter of my brain, dear sir! Its the only way.

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

I agree, it is the only way.
thank you for your words, Peston,
j.
Very dark and sad poem. I enjoyed it.

Posted 2 Months Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

thank you, JungLee,
j.


these words struck a dark chord with me jacob and made me wince several times ... getting old sure sucks and I dread ever loosing my higher cognitive functions .. I already mourn my lost youth ..

... and as long as you keep these coming j I know you are fine in that respect ..

N.

Posted 2 Months Ago


Neville

2 Months Ago


absolutely ... consider it done but I will expect the same from you jacob ..
N.
jacob erin-cilberto

2 Months Ago

Deal........
Neville

2 Months Ago


... ..... :)

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Added on August 24, 2020
Last Updated on August 24, 2020

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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