Bruce's Poetry and Short Stories
Written for my Brother
Brian's Smile
The Sun rises and yet it is difficult to know that it is day.
There is an absence that we find difficult to understand or
much less able to explain a circumstance that is so hurtful
and bears pain to those who love him as he made joy a
reality for us.
Brian could always be arrogant and proud that at times
could easily drive the most open mind to distraction.
Yet he knew the joy one can derive from compassion when
he felt the daily scars of a chronic disease. Brian could still
look upon you with a smile that engendered hope.
The pain of disease turned into a burning arrow that would
torment his soul and inner being as it grew in its own intensity
and suffering that was unremitting and indiscriminate in the
thread it sowed for a hapless soul like my sweet brother.
He was a man who followed a path that was his alone and
found no need to look back at those who are always blinded
by what is different. Brian had a sight or possibly we should
call it an insight into the human soul. It gave him a depth not
of knowledge but one of UNDERSTANDING.
I have known many people who have sought what Brian possessed.
Yet it was a vain and empty attempt to find a path that is as
intangible as the morning mist. He was not a religious man though
he had led a religious life. He was a SPIRITUAL MAN who could grasp
love and affection and never let it go.
The Breath of Life has left his suffering body torn by disease and a
Dysfunctional World where there seemed to be no place or peace
for a brother with the sweetest smile. You are in my heart and
your memory speaks to me each day as we walk across the
meadow in joy of laughter and the dreams that overtake my mind.
© Senex Magister
How Do I Remember or How Can I Just Think
I am living in my seventh decade of life and wonder, at times, how did that ever happen
to me and who was supposed to be there to tap me on the shoulder and say, "This is a
day and a moment you will want to fold up like a piece of paper and place it not in your
heart but a special place where universals truths shine and give a new brilliance to dark
shadows that elude you and from which you run in fear and ignorance".
I want to remember. I want to cry. I want to leave this day behind me.
Yet, there is a voice that never stops speaking to me with joy and love.
I know these emotions because my friend and brother shows me their truth.
You may ask, "How can this be when his spirit has departed and confounds the living?"
Senex frustrates himself in searching for answers and explanations where he
is not sure they could ever be found. Then he stands there conflicted between
the sadness of death and the hope of an epiphany that will bring peace and
understanding to an unquenchable thirst that only the gods can perceive.
There are many philosophical and religious traditions that try to tell us that
only the righteous man will inherit the earth. If one is righteous, is he then morally
correct? Is he a pillar of our community because of his upright stature as he has
become a mentor to those who have failed to follow the path he has chosen for himself?
I don't think so but you might find him standing there strait and tall saying to
any who would listen, "BULL SHIT". There were many times when my friend
and brother would not let loose of an issue whether it was extreme and had no
value to anyone other than the loud voice who was intent everyone heard him.
In such a case I would not hesitate to tell him, "YOU KNOW SOMETHING, MY
FRIEND. YOU CAN BE A REAL ASS HOLE". He would look at me and then winked
smiling as we both laughed at each other and knowing how ridiculous two brothers
could act especially when they allowed the god Bacchus to liberate their human
restraints and frees the inhibitions of truth.
My thoughts do not haunt me but put me on a journey to learn more about myself.
© Senex Magister
"I Don't Know"
How often do we think about the words that come from our mouths especially when they are spoken with the best of intentions trying to be polite in what we hope is a civil society? Wisdom can and usually does come to us as an 'epiphany' (notice that is a small e which has importance at least to me) at moments when we least expect it. This has happened to me more often ever since I knew I was sick. I suppose I was in self-denial until I heard a diagnosis from one to whom I could give credence and a sense of reality to words that I knew were true but I still fought against recognizing the truth and the power those words possessed. Why did I fight and resist such a vain struggle as this? The only answer that I am able to find for me at this moment is "I DON'T KNOW".
When I think about words like disease and death, such thoughts put me in such a state of confusion because these are pregnant words full of value judgments which I hope are difficult if not impossible for most of us to understand. We value life and embrace it for all the endless possibilities of joy it presents to the unhappy and happy alike. If that is true and I believe it is, you may ask as I do most every day, "Why is Brian dead". There are many people who will try to provide explanations where there is only one that speaks to me with any tangible meaning. "I DON'T KNOW." Song lyrics I think have become a form of modern poetry in our last and present century that can either help in its ethereal form or a simplicity in the way its words speak to you. Not to be too revealing about myself but Frank Sinatra recorded an album before I was out of high school that had a song which I have never been able to let loose of and as I think about my brother I am again brought back to the song: 'It Was A Very Good Year'.When I was seventeen
It was a very good year
It was a very good year for small town girls
And soft summer nights
We'd hide from the lights
On the village green
When I was seventeen
Brian whether he is vintage wine or beer will always live on in the 'autumn' of my life sharing his sweetness with me and providing me with the clarity I needed even when I called him an 'Ass Hole'. I Love You so and I am not sure when I'll be able to put you to bed. I am not so sure that day will ever come but possibly I will shut up so you can sleep more easily.
© Senex Magister
The Gravel Pit
It really wasn't a long walk but there always seemed like someone or something whether real or imaginary was placing an obstacle or barrier right in the middle of our path. Even to the most simple mind it was clear or at least it seemed that there were only two viable choices: you had to go over it or around it. Billy had a puzzled look on his face as he pondered the predicament in which he and his brother knew they had to overcome. Billy turned to Stevie and said, "You know something, Bubba?" Stevie now also looking puzzled replied to his brother, "What the Devil are you saying? I don't understand double talk. What am I supposed to understand?" Billy now standing there as if he were a wise sage looked at his brother as he winked at him in his own whimsical fashion and said, "Remember what Dad has always told us." Stevie again seemed more confused than certain while asking his brother, "Can you simply tell me what you mean so I can make sense out of this conversation?" "If Dad had not said it once, he must have said it a thousand times that the shortest route between two places is a straight line," Billy quickly replied.
Stevie was astonished in disbelief that his brother would consider or much less suggest such an incredible idea as this. It would mean entering and attempting to cross unscathed the 'Dreaded Gravel Pit'. It had been there for years shrouded in mystery and only talked about in hushed tones but for many of us we didn't understand what was the big deal about this big hole in the ground. There were two entry points into whatever was there as well as a ten foot electrified wire fence topped with barb wire to discourage any would be trespasser. Each entry point was a bit imposing in its construction and appearance. Both had a ten foot high double gate that appeared to be made of steel or some material that was just as hard. The two portions of the gate had an interlocking system from the top of the gate to the bottom. It would confuse the best of locksmiths with its multiple components of which it seemed to be constructed. On one side there was a huge 'skull and crossbones' with the words "Danger - Contaminated Soil" written beneath it in English, Spanish, and French. On the opposing side of the gate written in the same three languages was the following warning: "NO TRESSPASSING - PROPERTY OF THE ALPHA OMEGA CHEMICAL COMPANY". Many stories had circulated within their community for years about the Gravel Pit, but they were considered by most as the gossip of little old ladies who had nothing better to do with their time. The AOC was a small insignificant company founded at the turn of the century which had benefitted from both World Wars and had become a leading force in the 'Military Industrial Complex' of which President Eisenhower had warned the nation to be fearful as he left office in 1961. Stevie stood up looking at his older brother who said, "Billy, are you crazy? Do you have a death wish? Why would we ever consider entering a place that has inflicted such a curse and unheard of suffering on an innocent community?" There was a silence that only lasted minutes but seemed like hours. Billy then assuming the stature of an older brother took his brother into his arms and as tears poured from his eyes pleaded with a meekness that was not a part of his personality, "Don't you understand if we are too afraid and refuse to do whatever we can 'Death' will raise its claws and drain us of the 'Essence of Life' before we strike the first blow." I thought to myself and silently spoke words that were foreign and out of place for one who had always put self before any risk or danger to the chosen child, "I am your brother and whatever fear or harm whether real or spiritual that resides in the 'Gravel Pit' I am prepared to face yet I am not the courageous brave man you have always assumed your brother was. Billy and Stevie spent the next several weeks on both the Eastern and Western Rims of the Gravel Pit attempting to understand what laid before them and what if any plans they were going to plan. Much of what they observed though disturbing did not surprise them. There were snakes and rodents that you would expect in such an environment, but what horrified us were the mutant and hybrid creatures that this unnatural place allowed to exist and reproduce at an alarming rate. Who could find any sanity in such an unreal and insane predicament that had no reality to it? How could life come from death? What was even more difficult than such a question as that was to make a judgment over the natural or supernatural. These were the thoughts that haunted both Billy and Stevie and who was going to take the lead and enter the Gravel Pit and finally put an end to the human devastation and corporate indifference the Alpha Omega Chemical Company had for our community. It was like the dawn of a new day when the cloud that surrounded the Gravel Pit disappeared and people began to see green life of every conceivable form growing over the fences and gates of the Gravel Pit. The AOC closed down the Gravel Pit and endowed the property of the Gravel Pit to the living of our community bringing an end to death in the midst over which we had no control. Before the last story could be told or the memory of the Gravel Pit remained in the consciousness of the living, a derelict of sorts was found roaming our streets not completely aware of where he was or who he was. He was taken to our hospital where the resident psychologist questioned him about his identity and where he lived. He looked into Miss Stephenson's face and said, "I just left the Gravel Pit where my brother, Billy, saved all our lives. Patricia Stephenson who had read the case study about the miraculous Gravel Pit many times but that was 150 years ago. Stevie died the following day.© Senex Magister
The Sandlot
I looked up as I was sliding into home when I heard the detached and somewhat unemotional voice of my brother shouting, "You're Out of Here, Sucker!" while his laughter began to boom across the sandlot we used as our baseball field. Brotherly love, being what it is, found itself at an emotional crossroad especially when one's ego and self esteem felt challenged by the person who is supposed to be your defender, so I was immediately on my feet and the two Samuels' brothers were nose to nose. The other boys on the field began shouting, '"FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT", not realizing that they were only minutes from a possible tragedy.
Jimmy and Tommy Samuels disappeared in a cloud of dust as their bodies began to role one over the other obscuring the rapid flailing of their arms and fists in an adrenaline fed attack of one brother upon the other. Obscenities could be heard from each brother which many of them had heard before but very few really knew what they meant. The neighborhood boys now fearing the worst were shouting, "STOP, STOP, STOP", until the opaque dust began to clear into the light of day. It was at that moment all the boys stood in horror as they looked upon Jimmy bloodied from his wounds standing over the motionless body of his younger brother. At that very instant not a single sound or whisper could be heard as an eerie chill arose in the midst of total silence. Jimmy broke that silence as he fell to his knees screaming, "Oh My God, Tommy. Please wake up. I don't know what I was doing." Turning to the other boys, as he was sobbing uncontrollably, he screamed and shrieked madly, "help me, help me". A timid girl named Alice Matthews was keenly observing these events as they unfolded from her living room window across the street from the sandlot. Alice who knew most of the boys from school had worked herself into a hysterical state and had run into her mother's sewing room yelling, "The boys across the street are killing each other". Mrs. Matthews quickly told her daughter to calm down and explain what the problem was. Alice said, "It is the boys in the sandlot across the street and some of them are fighting and I think Tommy Samuels is hurt". Mrs. Matthews called Katherine Samuels telling her that she thinks that there has been some kind of accident at the sandlot and she needs to come as quickly as she can. She also said that she had no time to explain and then hurried out her front door to the sandlot across the street. Susan Matthews as she approached the crowd of young boys shouted, "What is going on over there?" The boys startled by the presence of an adult began running in every imaginable direction fearing that they would be in trouble for just being present at the brutal fight that they had just witnessed and had done nothing to stop. Susan was mortified at the scene she encountered as a dozen or more young boys were fleeing as if they had just committed the crime of the century when in reality they were just scared boys. Katherine Samuels arrived to find her older son in what appeared to be an almost comatose state kneeling before his brother crying and unresponsive to anyone else around him except Tommy. Katherine asked Susan Matthews if she would call the hospital for an ambulance while she remained with her two sons. It was 1955 and the primary function of a medical response team was to stabilize the patient and to provide transport to a medical facility for treatment. It was apparent almost immediately that Tommy had suffered a serious head injury under unusual circumstances. Epilogue: Joseph Samuels who was a successful contractor as a result of the post war boom took the attitude that boys will be boys and everything would be just fine. He was about to close a deal on a housing development that had the potential to net him millions of dollars. Thomas Samuels would be diagnosed as a victim of blunt force trauma to the brain and was placed in a nearby sanatorium which could provide him long-term care. Joseph refused to allow Jimmy to be questioned by investigators and proceeded to cover up the whole incident as much as he could. There was an underlying fear that anyone who was at that sandlot on the day of the fight could be held culpable for what had happened to Tommy, so investigators faced a stone wall of silence that as hard as they tried they could not crack the case. It would be forgotten by most people in the community except for those who were intimately involved in this tragedy. Katherine and Joseph Samuels were divorced three years later after James Samuels committed suicide consumed with grief and guilt. Katherine moved away never to be seen again until an obituary was mailed to Alice Matthews from an anonymous friend of Katherine's in 1995. Joseph died from lung cancer as well as being penniless in 1988 only three years after Tommy's death. Tommy never revived from the coma and the darkness that Fate had condemned him. Alice Mathews who barely knew Tommy was the only person who kept faith with him. She went to the sanatorium every week while she was in high school, college, and then when she returned to teach in her home town. The staff at the sanatorium simply called her Miss Alice. She would sit by his bed holding his hand and reading words to him that he would never hear. © Senex Magister
Pain and Suffering
There was a 'divide' that was so indiscernible it became as if it were a dark storm cloud in the clear light of day. The darkness closed in upon a hapless soul who like a blind man in a hidden cave tried to crawl and scratch his way to warmth and light but found neither in his quest for rest and a little peace from his suffering. How can anyone distinguish between darkness and light when he or she invites pain and suffering into their life? We are taught to seek and understand enlightenment and truth. If we choose to commit ourselves to such a path, have we discovered the essence of nobility or a dysfunctional life? If pain and suffering become the outcome of our struggle, there is no enlightenment but only deception.
In my torment and confusion, I try to find understanding through the words of those much wiser than I am.
Interpretations:
But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
~ C.S. Lewis
It is not a question of God allowing or not allowing things to happen. It is part of living. Some things we do to ourselves, other things we do to each other. Our Father knows about every bird which falls to the ground, but He does not always prevent it from falling. What are we to learn from this? That our response to what happens is more important than what happens. Here is a mystery: one man's experience drives him to curse God, while another man's identical experience drives him to bless God. Your response to what happens is more important than what happens.
~ Chip Brogden
Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.
~ Charles Dickens
The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.
~ Anne Frank
No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.
~ Bram Stoker
I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable.
~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh
I have learned two lessons in my life: first, there are no sufficient literary, psychological, or historical answers to human tragedy, only moral ones. Second, just as despair can come to one another only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings.
~ Elie Wiesel
If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.
~ Marcus Aurelius
Have I found answers to questions that continue to haunt me? The answer is OF COURSE NOT. I believe grief exists and abides within each of us or you possess little humanity nor have you experienced the grace and joy of love. I know it is a strange metaphor but I think grief is like an onion. There are layers of grief which may be easy or much more difficult to peel away. I doubt that it has anything to do with age as much as the intensity of your emotional self and the capacity of your heart to love.
Senex Magister
Thoughts of a Confused Man
We are obliged to respect, defend and maintain the common bonds of union and fellowship that exist among all members of the human race.
Sometimes the measure of friendship isn't your ability to not harm but your capacity to forgive the things done to you and ask forgiveness for your own mistakes.
There isn't much better in this life than finding a way to spend a few hours in conversation with people you respect and love. You have to carve this time out of your life because you aren't really living without it.
I've learned that all a person has in life is family and friends. If you lose those, you have nothing, so friends are to be treasured more than anything else in the world.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
These beautiful words are not of my own creation but each touches me in a slightly different vein as I struggle with my grief. I am tormented by an innate visceral reaction which cries out for the pain I feel. Though pain is not a memory I will ever have of my brother. I do, however, believe that Brian is/was a 'Righteous Man' though he became incapable of living a righteous life. I am not talking about morality in any narrow sense of behavior which has become far too common in our popular vernacular. As I age or rather as I become a more mature adult, forgiveness and love emerge as the centrality of my nature - who Bruce really is and the 'Man' that he is continually trying to become.
I am reminded of Catullus, a Roman Poet, and a couple lines that have challenged me as well as being a source of confusion.
Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris. Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
I hate and I love. Perchance you ask why I do that. I know not, but I feel that I do and I am tortured.
I know Philosophers have discussed the thin line, they believe, exists between love and hate. Both are extreme and intense emotions that have the capacity to create the best and the worst in our nature. Yet, I choose to eliminate it from my understanding and comprehension of the world and family in which God placed me. Don't get the wrong opinion or assume that I am self-righteous 'Hoocher Man' and let me assure you that I do not suffer from altruistic naiveté. You could characterize me, as Benjamin Franklin did of himself, as an 'Extreme Moderate'. There is much, though, I dislike and some that I dislike very much. At the top of the list is biased ignorance in all it different shades and forms that separates us from one another and distracts us even if momentarily from the importance of love shared with family and friends.
I am a 'Person of Faith' but I am not person that you will find proselytizing on some kind of soapbox. Religion for me is a personal relationship which does not have to be showcased for the benefit of others. I believe Brian is pleasing to God but he had become lost and confused as I can be at times. I think there is a 'human error' to which many of us fall victim when we find it easier to feel and think with only our intellect and not our heart.
~ Senex Magister
When Tomorrow Starts Without Me
by Anonymous
When tomorrow starts without me, and I'm not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes,
all filled with tears for me,
I wish so much you wouldn't cry, the way you did today,
While thinking of the many things we didn't get to say.
I know how much you love me, as much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me,
I know you'll miss me too.
But when tomorrow starts without me, please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name and
took me by the hand.
And said my place was ready in Heaven far above,
And that I'd have to leave behind, all those
things I dearly love.
But as I turned to walk away, a tear fell from my eye,
For all my life, I'd always thought, I didn't want to die.
I had so much to live for, so much yet to do,
It seemed almost impossible, that I was leaving you.
I thought of all the yesterdays, the good ones and the bad,
I thought of all the love we shared, and all the fun we had.
If I could relive yesterday, just even for a while,
I'd say goodbye and kiss you, and maybe
see you smile.
But then I fully realized, that could never be,
For emptiness and memories, would take
the place of me.
And when I thought of worldly things, I might
miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did, my heart was
filled with sorrow.
But when I walked through Heaven's gates,
I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me,
from his great golden throne.
He said, "This is eternity, and all I've
promised you.
Today your life on Earth is past, and
here it starts anew".
"I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last,
And since each day's the same day, there's
no longing for the past".
"But you have been so faithful, so trusting and so true,
Though there were times you did some things,
you know you shouldn't do".
"But you have been forgiven, and now at
last you're free,
So won't you take my hand now and share
My life with Me".
So when tomorrow starts without me, don't
think we're far apart,
For every time you think of me, I'm right here
in your heart.
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