song of the south

song of the south 

 

 

befriending earthworms

decomposing composer

feels poetic death

 

shoveled syllables

sting his skin

with verbal dismay

 

a quick prayer or two

a headstone, with proper grammar

in epitaph of a graphic life

spun into comatose words

 

and he,

buried with his typewriter

by his side, still ticking

 

even when his heart is not.

 

 

erin-cilberto

4/16/16

Reviews

[Bacchus]

Capturing the end. The end of something that will never end... these words we write.
Because no one will ever compose them in the exact same way again.

I feel like the headstone should say "Never to be Repeated"- each and everyone one of us.

I love the ending- the constant ticking.

May we press those keys where ever our heart state is in...
because it is in the variety of the heart that life sings.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

such insightful words, Bacchus...your response is better than the poem...

thank you for your review...

j.

[DIVYA]

Though the poetic death is sad, it somehow made me smile at the fate of the composer... the quick and unremarkable burial of all those remarkable poetic dreams, the still clicking typewriter, long after the decay has set in...brilliant to me.
...Much appreciated and enjoyed!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, DIVYA...

j.

[Daydreamer]

Thank you for stopping by and reading my latest, your reviews are always appreciated.
Your work never ceases to amaze me.
I was drawn to this one in particular.
The depth of these carefully crafted words offered me a glimpse of his life and death.
Flashes of colors gone in an instant.
And for a brief moment I felt as if I've known this man my whole life.....

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, they mean a lot and are a source of much encouragement to keep doing this writing thing.

j.