May 23, 1942, Thomas R. Turner   2 comments


Okay, so I forgot his birthday! Brother Tom is older, but he hasn’t caught up with me yet, although he keeps trying. Here are a few things we both have shared over the years.

“…High Among Beaks and Palavers of Vultures
He Celebrates and Spurns His Driftwood
SIXTY-SEVENTH Wind Turned Age…”

–Dylan Thomas

“Have you not done tormenting me with accursed time!
It’s abominable! When! When!
One day is that enough for you,
one day he went dumb,
one day I went blind,
one day we’ll go deaf,
one day we were born,
one day we shall die, the same day.
The same second, is that not enough for you?
They give birth astride a grave,
the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.”

— from “Waiting for Godot” by Samuel Beckett

“You have outlived Shakespeare by sixteen years!

Yikes! …just keep moving and don’t look over your shoulder…!”

(All the above were originally shared by brother Tom on my birthdays.)

“While riding on a train goin’ west,
I fell asleep for to take my rest.
I dreamed a dream that made me sad,
Concerning myself and the first few friends I had.
With half-damp eyes, I stared to the room
Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon,
Where we together weathered many a storm,
Laughin’ and singin’ till the early hours of the morn.By the old wooden stove where our hats were hung,
Our words were told, our songs were sung,
Where we longed for nothin’ and were quite satisfied
Talkin’ and a-jokin’ about the world outside.

With haunted hearts through the heat and cold,
We never thought we could ever get old.
We thought we could sit forever in fun
But our chances really was a million to one.

As easy it was to tell black from white,
It was all that easy to tell wrong from right.
And our choices were few and the thought never hit
That the one road we traveled would ever shatter and split.

How many a year has passed and gone,
And many a gamble has been lost and won,
And many a road taken by many a friend,
And each one I’ve never seen again.

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain,
That we could sit simply in that room again.
Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat,
I’d give it all gladly if our lives could be like that.”

— Bob Dylan
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, dear brother.
From your wise and older brother,
to whom you have provided literary enlightenment over the years.
Luv ya,

Posted May 25, 2009 by kenneturner in Family, Life, Poetry

2 responses to “May 23, 1942, Thomas R. Turner

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  1. Reblogged this on Becoming is Superior to Being and commented:

    Brother Tom would have been 73 today — he is missed and always will be.

    “Only that which does not teach,
    which does not cry out,
    which does not persuade,
    which does not condescend,
    which does not explain,
    is irresistible.”
    — W. B. Yeats


  2. A beautiful post. Tempus fugit and carpe diem to we who carry on.


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