a strand untouched

a strand untouched

 

 

in the blighted darkness

of the sunrise

the orb of fire

reminds me of you

your face in prayer

skin curling in defiance

 

eyes only envisioning

what you saw inside

of an abbreviated life

and a plethora

of half-written songs

while your guitar 

 

stood restless in the corner of your heart.

 

 

erin-cilberto

3/10/23

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was an interesting read. Is it about some performer in particular? I like the last lines about the guitar. I've been playing about 45 years and I'm still not really good at it. I play okay, I guess. People will say, wow, you're fantastic! I, however, know what fantastic guitar playing is and it ain't mine. (laughing) I mostly finger pick in a style I mimicked from Jerry Reed and a few others I admired. But I'm no Jerry Reed. He was a fantastic picker. So was Glen Campbell. My strength on guitar is I'm a pretty fair rhythm player and I know hundreds of songs in various genres. But it's just something I do for pleasure. My eight year old is my biggest fan. ;) I didn't quite know what to make of "skin curling in defiance" but it presented a rather frightening mental image. Your writing is always a pleasure to read, Jacob, whether I understand every word or not. I enjoyed.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Fabian...it is about a friend...
I appreciate your review and sharing about your guitar playing, which I am sure is much greater than you give yourself credit for...
j.

[William Michael Reeves]

The string strummed your life. The note saved your heart. When we eye our sunset we reach for the instrument hoping to finish the song before our light is extinguished. Life can't be abbreviated. It is as long as it will ever be. As long as it must be.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and for some, not long enough...thank you, William,
j.

[Ken e Bujold]

a melancholy gem J. Pitched pitch perfect

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Ken,
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

This is cloaked with such sadness. We each leave so much undone, no matter how hard we try.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Linda Marie,
j.

[Ted Kniffen]

Funny thing j. I find lately that my old love reappears in my dreams. Not always sure if there is a reaching out from some other alternative reality or just a thought that bubbles to the surface while asleep.

We never know ... do we?

I like this one j.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, we never know for sure,
thank you, Ted
j.

[willweb]

This one touched me Jacob as I often (lately) look at my guitars and my pianos and wonder, what will become of them after I am gone. Hoping that someone will get out of them what I did, more happiness than can be described. Sadly though we have no control over that. I have too often wondered...does the music come from me or them? Liked your poem my friend.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I am sure someone will get much out of them, will...
and maybe how you have played on them will transfer inspiration.
j.

[Relic]

"Don't die with your music still in you." Wayne Dyer.

To see a personal moment of someone, only to know of their death later, can make one contemplate what life is for.

This conjures up lines from a Bobby Goldsboro song. "Ten years have gone by sinse I looked in her eyes, but the memory lingers.

This is a haunting one, J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Relic,
j.

[Chris]

So many seldom outlive our memories of them anymore

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I think of her everyday.
thank you, Chris,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

A very touching write J of a life cut short. If only the guitar had been given the opportunity to play those songs. That orb of fire a wonderful way to remember someone dear. Sunrise and sunsets, food for poets. Beautiful.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Sure wish it could, Chris.
thank you,
j.

[DIVYA]

A face in deep prayer looks as if aglow....I loved the description of sunrise. And how those half-written songs must have prayed for the music in the heart to begin...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, divya,
j.