poem

poem

Ashes to dust and such

a rhythmic burning

left brain, right heart

yearning

resting

           on

the scattered you

erin-cilberto

9/1/23

Reviews

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

Jacob,

There is very little in this life that is a final as these words shared from your scattered and shattered heart ...

Marve

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, Marve.
j.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Love is a thing of poetry. We either hate it, or yearn for it. Live in its moments, or die in its wake. But make no mistake...it's poetry. As always my poet friend, an excellent poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"Die in its wake"--I like that, Carlos...thank you for your kind review.
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

We gather the tender moments like a Bouquet of Flowers and keep the Petals in an Urn where Dreams become a Poem. gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, dear Pat,
j.

[andrew mitchell]

All moments in time face their own mortality only to be remembered as memories gathering dust and becoming more fragmented. Excellent write.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, andrew,
j.

[John the Baptist]

The first line seems to be a play on the Anglican Book of Common Prayer's burial ritual, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Then we get a couple of polarities, followed by a reference to "the scattered you." It all seems to be a comment on a romance that was once intense, but which has now been consigned to the past. Scattered ashes, nothing more.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

That meaning fits, says I.
thank you for your interesting theories of meaning, John.
j.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Poem makes me think of our human inevitable mortality
Scattered where
Who knows
And the imprints we made or didn’t make
On others
Obviously in life we have many loves In different stages of our life
All different scattered remnants left on us
Great write Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I like your response better than the poem itself.
Thank you, Julie,
j.

[Lorry]

First and last lines sound like the catharsis required after a breakup, just burn that person and all that reminds you of her out your life.
Well, I found it cathartic anyway, when my house went up in flames... Right up until the realisation I was now sans home, but it did lead me further north into a new life and compared to the old one, a possible happy ever after. But I digress... Apologies for that.
Now if I'm not mistaken, the left side of the brain is the creative side, and this is just a guess, but the right side of the heart must be where that chamber of pain is located... You know the one. It feels like someone has taken an ice cream scoop to it, while you writhe in pain and hear an imaginary voice of a woman cackling in delight. (Well, that's what I hear anyway)
The final line could also be the last fragments of what you had together, but for all the good I am at analysing poems, it could very well turn out to be about the plight of the lesser spotted angry fish!
I would be amazed though, if it turns out to be about a fish I just completely made up. 😊

[jacob erin-cilberto]

no not a fish...a very dear friend lost to flames.
thank you, Lorry,
j.

[Lorry]

Sorry to hear that Jacob, truly am.

[Archishman Rick]

Those are very thought provoking words, the spacings make them interesting and cryptic. Ashes to dust may leave you scattered behind measure, but that doesn't stop a left brain from thinking and a right heart from yearning. Kudos sir. :D

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, Rick,
j.

[Fran Marie]

Wonderfully written to dust and such
left brain visuals perceive..
right heat yearning .great
metaphor laced through the lines.
Lovely brevity

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Fran...a bit of a tough one to write.
j.

[red93]

Tanka-esque. I like it a lot and the fragmentary feel to it, almost a cut and paste job. Excellent ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Red.
j.