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jacob erin-cilberto


slipping past midnight

i spilled my dreams
all over your blue dress,
and you became Cinderella
wondering why your prince
was so clumsy,
and full of shortcomings
and why the clock ticked toward midnight

and you couldn't wait for the carriage to turn back into a pumpkin
and the horses heads to lean toward eternity
because you felt being with me was an eternity
on earth,

and then you picked up your broom
to sweep me away,

not realizing you had swept me
totally off of my feet

and that you had left my glass heart
in the carriage,

so that i could never retrieve it
in this fairy tale life

that has no ending.
​

Argument of How it Was

i'm struggling to understand you
and your
Red Headed crazy lips
attached to an old bottle
corked, wine is flat
like your eyes,
but the glare in the glass
is interpretation of an exhumed body of work
 
i read your poetry before,
but i was drunk,
and my spectacles were on crooked
like that smile of yours
i saw in my rear view mirror
 
the day i left the book in the road
and hightailed it into tomorrow
before yesterday pulled me over/
 
i thought your body was poetry before
i read skin that was like dog eared pages
of two lives colliding
and voices rising and falling
like a heaving chest
 
Red Headed lips
crazy kissing me goodbye
while i tried to memorize a poem
i had no chance to remember
on the million interstates that kept repeating
 
as you drove me crazier than i already was
before our minds met.

from a separated stanza of the world

dark eyes squeeze out a tear
and the cheek beseeches you to come back
i found love in a moon drop
and the unwanted sunrise scattered it
into frothy lake

a large impending body
of wishes
of take-backs
of words absorbed back into the tongue
to be held back by pursed lips

pretend i never said it
reopen your moon to me
i was the man in it

and now without your sky

i have no place to stay.
​

like an Emily Dickinson Love Affair

you're my maybe baby
i'm your plausible possibility
enmeshed in
wrapping paper blues
crimson inside the space
where you crawl beside me
under blankets of siphoned rain
we glow in moist packaging
from the inside out
emerge in present passion
our thoughts almost touching
nearly gnarled in poetic fever
temperature in a breath
of inverted words
and i am kissing you with my mind
feeling for your pen to respond
so our hearts may finally
emerge from this fractious
concealment.
​
Picture

 
 jacob erin-cilberto's profile
​Go to page 2 of jacob erin-cilberto's poetry

do not disturb

sensibility checked out of the motel
reason became a vacancy sign

and love left without paying its bill,
now the neon light flickers with rage

and old age,
a bunch of rooms with empty beds
no one sleeps together in harmony
anymore

they stand at attention
with threats as bedfellows
munching midnight snacks

staring at the closet door
listening for monsters
praying,

the cleaning service quit years ago
the manager threw up his arms in surrender
and moved to a new country

but the lights keep flickering
enticing hearts to stop for comfort
and empty the closets of old woes
and restlessness

put sheets of poetry on the beds
let minds roll over in peace,
and maybe pay for another night 


just to feel safe for a page or two.
​

Deliciously Criminal

felon fleeing toward the scene

my heart on the lam
"all points bulletin
be on the lookout
armed with love and dangerous"

there is a certain inexpressible freedom
when the escape is to you.
​

The Wreck of the Boxed up Turtle

there were tender years
not so tender tears,
blinking lights that got too close
as i crashed into yesterday
you were the passenger in the other car
i saw tomorrow's witness
but that person refused to talk
and slid back into the shell
of a plodding tortoise's gait
destined to once again wait
in the end...
the race might be won
when the participant
can move on
albeit,
with a slightly hinged heart
still half closed.
​

thesis of us

if i gave you a pen
would you write me into your heart
with cursive letters
capital "W" in the "we"
a you and me inked
and linked
in forever essay
we could assay to scribe
a love we could imbibe
together or apart
would you write me then.
​

The Physiology of a Glance

eyes of blue
retreating into you
corneas corner me into moodless days
unprotected from sun's rays
i blink to think
and think to blink
could get lost in your breeze
balanced on soft gaze
i graze in iris fields
as my retina yields

to the succor
of your

eyes of blue.
​
Go to page 2 of jacob erin-cilberto's poetry.

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