it's suddenly quiet in the other room

it's suddenly quiet in the other room

 

 

words strewn about the playpen

the child tires of his naive vocabulary

his Fisher Price toys are all broken

 

he can't play nice,

he screams from his crib

seismic sounds aloft

in a charming fragrance

that leave a strange scent

 

and in the next room

a mother weeps

as she ponders what she has raised

and with delicate hands

 

becomes a childless mother

tirelessly gluing together the pieces

of her shattered dreams

 

standing over his grave

writing his last speech 

for him

struggling with the ending

 

while exuding a wry smile

as she holds the pen in one hand

and a pacifier in the other.

 

 

erin-cilberto

11/16/16 

Reviews

[NeiL ArandA]

The vocabulary are still astounding and the way it flows through out the entire paragraph provokes the reader mind like me what was the message. I wonder if the muse may be a widow and the young baby needs a father figure and the young lady can't raise it by herself. Its intriguing that the pen she holds weilds something. Was it a divorce or adoption papers. Its always a learning experience when I read your deep writings Sir Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like your thoughts on this piece...where you went with it.
thank you, Neil...

j.

[V]

I love the mood you created and a scenery like in an art movie. I could read your words over and over again and always come to another conclusion or a different way of understanding. Very nice write as all of yours are, actually.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Vanessa...

j.

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

The kid gloves are off...we are not always successful in molding beauty and love even with delicate hands. It's time to take the pacifier away...send them out...some times they come back well received....sometimes they are lost forever. I hope Mother Earth receives well.......

[jacob erin-cilberto]

love your insightful words, Queenie...
thank you for your visit...

j.

[W.k.kortas]

To put forth a dissenting opinion, I smell a political parable here.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

ah...thank you for your insights, W.k.

j.

[Ted Kniffen]

Ah, those late night respites when the screaming has stopped and exhaustion plays on the mind, that strange scenario of what if pops up. Then that smell wafts through, a whimper comes over the baby monitor and away you go again. Good write, j.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Ted,

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

I'm taking that take too! Although I note a flavor of ambiguity in the text which makes me a little unsure of my interpretation.

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Al...
how you see it...that is how it is...the reader owns the piece, not the poet.

[Jon Roggie]

This is a dark one, at least the way I see it. She killed the child, just to let herself free.
Just my take.
Still, this is an interesting write.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i see many are having that take---thanks for the read, Jon...

j.

[Beccy]

This, to me, is not about a child at all; other than perhaps the child within that ever remains within and to which so many regress to.

I enjoyed your poem and also Redzone's reply, which truly celebrates the joy of interpretation.

Beccy.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, Beccy.

j.

[Jyoti_Ablaze]

This piece aptly captures the pain of losing a loved one. A child is such a gem in lives of the parents that he becomes the center point of their whole existence. And when fate inflicts such unfortunate loss, it is heart wrenching.
Felt the vivid sentiments of the piece.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Jyoti...
j.

[Jyoti_Ablaze]

You are very welcome!

[Tony Jordan]

seismic is right - a child can outscream a jack-hammer in decibels and the mother's brain is 'designed' to be unable to ignore their babies wail. Who on Earth would combine the two in a relationship - hmmm...
powerful writing!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Tony.

j.

[Tony Jordan]

welcome j.