the Man and meA Poem by jacob erin-cilberto
if he
had been a writer, too would Father have
referred to my writing as "just
passable" "deplorable" "fine"? his engineer self put together
mechanically--- form and structure but not the rhyme or
meter kind
he never understood me until his hair grew
completely gray and he let his beard
grow out---
as if there was a part
of him that wanted always to rebel against the
norm against the upper class
form
to find a certain
construction in things outside the
box--- he lived within a world
created for him in refineries, New York
offices a marriage of moving
upscale
of black and white of things having a place
and a place for things of neatness & near perfection
kindness a bit soured
with prejudice a helping hand that
might pick and choose
and words--- a strong voice non-poetic more technical in a
hands-on sense than a heart-on sense, although in his core deep love existed--- (he just most times hid behind the gruff
exterior of his life)
and it existed for me, despite a side that
lacked understanding for what i was, i wrote poems his nomenclature for
that was "hobby"
we didn't take each
other seriously really... until recently even as the
conversations diminished shortened found limits
love flourished i still wrote poems he acknowledged them without really reading
or understanding
but got "it" whatever "it"
was or is now
he accepted, i accepted and today we write
together, even though
i am still the one who
holds the pen.
erin-cilberto 1/12/17 © 2017 jacob erin-cilbertoReviews
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Added on January 13, 2017Last Updated on January 13, 2017 Authorjacob erin-cilbertoCarbondale, ILAboutOriginally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..Writing
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