I hadn't seen my older brother twenty years or more.
As we grow up, we never know what life may have in store
So he went East and I went West and twenty years had passed
When I received a call that he was coming 'round, at last.
I called my buddies, Tom and Bill, to help me entertain
This brother that I barely knew who shared my same last name
Then, after hours of reminiscing things we used to do
We all went down to Arnold's Lanes to bowl a game or two.
Tom, Bill and I would always bowl each small chance that we could.
Tom and I were average but Bill was really good.
Bill asked him if he knew the game, assuming full control.
My brother simply said in quiet manner, "I can bowl."
Well, I GUESS he could bowl! My God! He played the game with ease!
He knocked down strikes and picked up splits as pretty as you please!
He didn't act superior or try to rub it in,
Just beats the pants off everyone, to poor ole Bill's chagrin.
So, after that butt-thumping, to Bill's house we all four went.
Bill had a big smile on his face and I knew what it meant.
He had a ping-pong table there and he would make him pay...
He asked my brother for a game, who just said, "I can play."
Oh, man! It was SO brutal....even from the very start!
He cut Bill up in little pieces, then ripped out his heart.
Bill had the reputation that, at ping-pong, he was king
But he was getting massacred with every paddle swing!!
The sad thing was that we could see my brother holding back!
He passed at every chance where one would normally attack
But there was such a difference in the level of his skill
That, even though he held back, he was far too much for Bill.
The ping-pong ended, mercifully, and we went back inside.
We sat down in the living room as Bill licked wounded pride.
My brother saw the grand piano standing in full view
And said to Bill, "Can you play?" Bill said, "Yes, I can. CAN YOU?????"
"'Fraid not", my brother said. "You know, I've always wished I could.
I tried it once or twice but I was never very good.
My fingers just don't have co-ordination in that way
But I have full respect for anybody who can play."
In no time flat Bill jumped up and his hands began to fly
Banging notes so poorly they could make a grown man cry.
He could out-do mediocre, though not by very much....
An epileptic aardvark would have had a smoother touch!
But we all cheered and gathered 'round and urged him to go on.
Beer flowing freely, he played oldies as we sang along.
My brother clapped him on the back and gave a loud BRAVO!
And we were all best buddies by the time it came to go.
So we went home....I said goodnight and moseyed up the stairs
To dream of using ping-pong balls to knock down strikes and spares.
I thought that I was dreaming as I sat up in the gloom
To hear the sounds of Mozart coming from the living room!
I got dressed and ran down the stairs as fast as I could race
To see my brother sitting there, a big smile on his face.
His hands flew up and down the keys of my old Wurlitzer
And I could not believe the music coming out of her!!
He played a Mozart medley and he didn't miss a beat.
His fingers moved majestically - the notes were crisp and sweet.
How long I stood there I don't know....the sound was so sublime
The world had disappeared and I had lost all track of time.
My God! He was the best pianist I had ever seen
Yet he said that he couldn't play at all! What did he mean?
He saw the look of puzzlement I simply could not hide.....
Then smiled and said, "It's always best to leave a man his pride."
I nodded that I understood and saw his big grin spread
Then said goodnight a final time and went upstairs to bed.
He'd given me some words of wisdom I would always keep.
I thanked God for my brother and, to Mozart, fell asleep.
Author notes
Written July 7th, 2003
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Brilliant. Gold.
"Epileptic aardvark" - hahaha
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Brilliant, as always
Found this one, too! Yay! What a great lesson. I don't know if I ever told you this but I printed out all your poems a few years ago and took them on a road trip. My friends and I had a great time reading them. Your spirit filled the car and there were many laughs and some tears. This is one of your poems that actually improved me as a person, not just for the few seconds after the poem was read before the feeling evaporated, as is usually the case with anything we read, or any movie we watch. It's rare that one actually forms us, you know.
I was never much on beating other people at games or sports. I prefer to compete against my own laziness and limitations, but the message in this poem is so important, especially for men, who measure themselves against other men so much, and often at the other man's expense. Being encouraging to others is more rewarding than winning all the time, though it may be less obvious, as the great truths often are.
Mark Rickerby
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This is so wonderful........i have not seen my brother in two years.......not quite the 20 that u had....but I can relate to that part.......but i do not think my brother would have the modesty that your's showed......Great story, and a great brother you have also!
thanks for sharing this -
Ah.. this was wonderful! It does take a big person to have humiity, and to leave others with their pride. Marvelous story here. I loved it.
Of course what I thought was sad though was that 20 years went by before you saw one another again. I'm so glad you have connected again..and that Mozart could be there to see it.
My very Best to you..
Hugs..
Mary Ann -
Fuzz,,,thank you - and welcome to the site!!
symitar...yep, it does. You can always tell a big man by what he DOES NOT do at times. Thanks, lady!
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Interesting you would pick up on that, lewis, and very astute. Actually I didn't have a title for the poem...nothing seemed to really fit so I used that one. I'm open to all suggestions...
Emma...only when necessary...or deserved
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I like the title. Its a goodun.
Great story about humility and understanding of the frailty of the human spirit, and Mr. Macho kept his pride intact somewhat. Takes a big man to step back from the plate and let four go by.
Nicely done. -
That was awesome. i love how everything rhymed. It was also very nice. I like it alot. Well hope to read more.. GREAT POEM!
love always,
(`·.¸(`'·.¸ ¸.·'´)¸.·´)
«:"'~·-Jenni.~''':»
(.·'´(¸.·'´ `'·.¸)`'·.) -
i completely agree with nukerliu here..... about the title i mean.
Although I think that sometimes modesty is overrated, this is a good lesson to learn-- you wouldn't want to piss off someone now would you? heh.
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::smiles:;
mmm indeed the lesson learned her is------- modesty!
of course.
"It's always best to leave a man his pride." <-- that is the best line of the poem.
::sigh:: u know, i probably wouldn't have done what the speaker's brother did.. mm too arrogant ya know? but this is indeed a good lesson.
however, my only comment on this poem is that perhaps i would change the title into something other than "lesson learned" because the title is a. too obvious, and b. too cliched.
but other than that.
great poem.
~ lewis
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