something not quite concrete enough

something not quite concrete enough

 

 

proud cities

with whitewashed walls

of tenements of an older day

 

safe sidewalks

safe subway

the bustling brusque walkers

 

only bumping

not stomping

cutting or shooting

 

proud cities with whitewashed walls

cannot blank the recall

from all that occurred in between

 

the quiet

and the awkward silence

yet lingering

 

in the shadows

of what is hushed in bare whispers

in the alleys of tenements

 

of an older day

with whitewashed memories

from all that occurred in between.

 

 

erin-cilberto

6/1/23

Reviews

[andrew mitchell]

They call it progress and hence we call it the good old days. It’s funny looking at suburbs that had young children playing in the streets to the same old family now in retirement and everything appears dead in the silence.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, playing in the streets...so different now.
thank you for your understanding review, andrew,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Jacob,,, the Sands of Time will always be brought to the Table when Time slips away...
We hold our Fate on a plate of warm Potatoes... gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

used to build skyscrapers out of my mashed potatoes when I lived in NY.
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

The Irish survived with 🥔 Potatoes…

[Lorry]

I remember growing up in Glasgow, Scotland with astonishment in the 80's, when they decided that it would be a good idea to clean up those tenements, blasting away centuries of industrial pollutants and making the place gleam.
No worry about living in a city so polluted that it turned even the buildings black, just everyone realising the need to go out and buy sunglasses in a country without sun, so we didn't burn our retinas looking at the nice, new, shineness of everything. It was like going to bed in a black and white city and waking up in a neon cartoon!
But I do miss all those old black(er) and white photographs from the long long ago, that maybe explain now why the life expectancy is higher now than it was back then. I'm just amazed all those death certificates from the long ago didn't just say cause of death by fu***d lung syndrome!
But, ahh... Happy days they were! 😊

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I guess we just thought times were simpler and safer back then...less media..
thank you, Lorry,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

Change and not always for the best. This poem speaks to me of loss. A loss of whiteness replaced by shadows, where the streets are now unsafe. Stomping, cutting and shooting says it all. Violence has overtaken what was once peaceful. Sadly this is happening in many cities . The USA is not isolated, although the problem is much larger there. A wretched state of affairs J. A heartfelt write.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

absolutely...my old haunting ground...changed drastically.
thanks, Chris,
j.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

As I read that this early morning Simon and Garfunkel played in my head instantly their ‘sounds of silence ‘song

I love how this happens
A. Poem can instantly bring music to ones ears
Thanks
I liked the poem well done 👍

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"hello darkness my old friend"
thanks, Julie,
j.

[Sami Khalil]

Once proud cities, internationally known and admired, becoming difficult to recognize or bring back the good ole' memories. The poet is reminiscing. I felt the awkward silence reading this.
Awesome!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, and sorry for the awkward silence, Sami,
j.

[Sami Khalil]

All wonderful. Awkward silence might lead to an erupted volcano 🌋; some die a thousand death from it, others are reborn into heroes. Long live our hero, Jacob.

[Riselily]

Beautiful. My favorite verse was

proud cities with whitewashed walls
cannot blank the recall
from all that occurred in between

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Riselily,
j.