Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Poem by Brian Trimboli

People who sing are a step away from happiness. Human beings are the only species gifted with speech and melody. We use words to express our selves and to transact as individuals, to differ and to disagree, to discuss and deliberate. We also use words to evoke feelings and emotions. Literature is full of marvelous examples of how words can be used. One of my favorite writers when I was younger was Khalil Gibran. I also liked Antoine de St. Exupery and Richard Bach.
Here is a poem that I liked when I was older.
THINGS MY SON SHOULD KNOW AFTER I’VE DIED
I was young once. I dug holes
near a canal and almost drowned.
I filled notebooks with words
as carefully as a hunter loads his shotgun.
I had a father also, and I came second to an addiction.
I spent a summer swallowing seeds
and nothing ever grew in my stomach.
Every woman I kissed,
I kissed as if I loved her.
My left and right hands were rivals.
After I hit puberty, I was kicked out of my parents’ house
at least twice a year. No matter when you receive this
there was music playing now.
Your grandfather isn’t
my father. I chose to do something with my life
that I knew I could fail at.
I spent my whole life walking
and hid such colorful wings.

For more on Brian Trimboli's poetry and Subho's work at the Trillium Gallery, Woodstock, NY, click here.

1 comment:

  1. Didn't come across this poem earlier. It's lovely. Thanks for posting.

    ReplyDelete

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