Rob's Poetry

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"FOR DAD"

Pipe smoke
bass strings
wail during night time...
rock me to sleep....
his practice session
was my lullaby
classical
jazz
all encompassing...
musical genius
in training.


teaching music
coming home
cooking that bomb ass chili recipe
a dash of sugar
with tomato sauce
ground beef
and red beans..
Preparing me
for school's weekly spelling bee.

Persona, stoic
stone face...
Son of Leroy and Josephine.
He can be quite mean...
temperamental....
using the belt
and bar of soap
washing my mouth out
if I cussed.
A patriarch who didn't play...
was James Evans
before James Evans
was house hold name.

Rhythmic sweat
rehearsal and gigs....
daddy play that base...
play that bass....
play that bass...
a master's degree from S.F. State
but still struggled...
kept the hustle....
for my brother and me.

Didn't laugh too much
unless it was Richard Pryor
or Red Foxx...
yelling, "Boy, go
to bed; it's nine o clock."
Father/son time
took me to my
first R rated movie...
when I was 5...
Sex and life lectures...
yelling sessions....
and spankings....
when I was out of line.

Cancer cut short his time...
returning to spiritual realm
in his 44th year......
and my 20th
gone too soon
but I speak to him....
I've become him...
the image....
the narrative....
immersed in his being
I feel the power of his presence...
We've become one....
Father spreading essence of manhood...
to his son.

(c) 2013 R.M.
All Rights Reserved.

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