Dear Jeffrey, tomorrow you will be 28…

As I sit here typing this – from Westchester, NY, for my week-long NYU MBA Residency, it occurs to me that a substantial part of this is due to your presence in my life.  Prior to your death, I was a lost soul swimming upstream in a murky fish bowl.  There was little interest in discipline, compassion, or spiritual growth.  While you were still here, in fact, I was more into collecting that which was instantly gratifying, easily disposable, and egocentric.  Maybe I haven’t completely rid myself of the latter, but I do work hard to achieve a heightened level of communication with my sacred self.

Without Alexander Graham Bell there wouldn’t be a telephone (sorry Lady Gaga you didn’t have first dibs), and without you – Jeffrey Lee Ben – I wouldn’t have had any ‘telephone’ to pick up and get in touch with what is at the very core of existence; love and compassion.  Without these two very crucial life tools, I would not be as successful in all my endeavors in life.  Let’s face it the one component that ties the two (love and compassion) together is understanding, and you may climb the ladder of success without it but you will more than likely be alone.

This one is for you my brother.


Dear Jeffrey, 10 days until you’re 28….

I remember you,

Though I age my lines get deeper and defined,

While yours go unchanged and more soft-focused with time,

All the heaviness fades to lightness as I grow into being,

A fantasy life, I imagine, who you could be,

I remember you,

Surfing through people with attention and ease,

Looking for neglectful and clumsy me,

Your spirit was so free,

Mine locked down by judgmental, grudge-filled, heady thinking,

I remember you,

Exuding happiness into everything,

Most of which I inevitably drained,

A smile in the world you left behind,

Beamed life into my soul,

What you already knew,

I’m still finding out,

I remember you,

You taught me what life was about.

-Your sister (Friday, the 13th of August in 2010)


It happens in those instances when it becomes foreign but haunting; those few seconds when we collide.  I know it’s you and you know it’s me, but nothing left to be seen.  Maybe I’m crazy, or maybe you were insane and that’s just why we crashed into each other before.   But, here you are after all these years prodding even more for me to remember who I was.

I’ve read that visiting memory is better the second time because forewarned isn’t forearmed until you’ve experienced it at least once.  I wonder if you were forewarned, or did you scar?

My derelict mind doesn’t recognize you quite as much as I do, so I return from time-to-time, mail a postcard and send some rhyme.  I worry the words will dry up, shrivel into the fingertips to be cut off by the serial killer of imagination…gotta provide shelter…to save ’em all.

I used to wonder why you were back, but it wasn’t until I really looked at you, faced you, and dissected, your every meaning that I knew.  Time skipped a beat, for a moment reset, and we collided where it met.

From The Archives: Resonance

**I wrote this poem about how my (now) wife awoke my soul**

Lines could not have blurred more clearly,

But I knew there was no reading between them,

It was what we knew it was,

The world predicts it cleverly,

Putting two spaces into one quite beautifully blatant,

Awaking faucets of the soul,

Freeze-frame moments that could never be ignored,

Eyes like tunnels,

Depth that transcends time,

Karma reaped,

Tingles of desire,

You unleash the fire in my spirit,

So I live life with an open heart.

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