A Brief Crack of Light: Poems from a Young Man

By Jeremy Brueske

Seasons go,
Problems arise—
Restless nights
Taken in stride.
Exhaling soul
Inhales for comfort—
Compensation to questions
Long after summer …
—Jeremy Brueske


Jeremy Brueske offers a distinctive take on life in his second collection of poems that explores the dynamics of contemporary relationships as well as our current culture.

Written with a powerful and elegant style, Brueske’s poems reflect his longing to connect with his great-grandfather, conjure a mesmerizing tale of a Holocaust’s survivor’s chance to create a new identity, and offer a stark, behind-the-curtain glimpse at life as a wayward young man. Included is prose that explores a young man’s night out on the town as he attempts to not only understand the opposite sex, but also who he is and why he is here as well as another young man’s journey of self-reflection as he contemplates his destiny and wonders whether he will ever be able to transform his fantasies into realities.

A Brief Crack of Light shares lyrical reflections from a young man with a singular perspective on life, love, culture, and his unique experiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532049040

Jeremy Brueske

Jeremy Brueske is the author of the poetry book, Dearest Demons. He and his wife, Mariam, have four children and live in Sarasota, Florida. A Brief Crack of Light: Poems from a Young Man is his second book.

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Copyright © 2018 Jeremy Brueske.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

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except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-4903-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-4905-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-4904-0 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 11/29/2021

Contents

Contradiction and Confession

At Home in the Mirror

Truth-Telling Wine

Long after Summer

Red Turns to Black

Breaking Your Code

I’ve Done All I Can

Unconscious Light

Moons Won’t Eclipse

The Day after New Year’s Day

Appalling Attempt at Allegory

Libra vs. Aquarius

Black Silk Empress with Iron-Burning Eyes

Raindrops

Remember This

The Countdown

Dancing Headlights

Conversations

A Talk with Sam: An Elegy

Harry’s Questions

The Brave Chameleon

Cigar

Tomorrow’s Daunting Unpredictability

Poem for the Living

Doing Great Things

Reaching for Rewind

Religious Void

Other Side of the Sky

Warning Signs

The Zombie

Protagonist

Morphine Man

Gone Numb

In the Home of the Padres

California Bound

Reflections from the Pacific

La Jolla Shores and the Children’s Pool

Epiphanies at the Park

Sitting Ducks with Bull’s Eyes

Inside My Head, at the Bar and in Bed

Who Are You, and Why Am I Here?

Ectomorph (Brush Till You Bleed)

Everywhere Is Nowhere / Scream or Smile

Conspirators

Transcriptions of Transgressions

Sake and Sandalwood

Vampire Replaced

Tornadoes and Sparrows

Contradiction and Confession

At Home in the Mirror

Truth-Telling Wine

Long after Summer

At Home in the Mirror

Absolute stillness—

Another inquisition of myself,

That damned unrewarding manuscript.

I plead insanity to the pages right before the verdict of daybreak.

Writing silver linings with boldest ambition,

Theories go unchallenged within these four white walls,

This bachelor pad research lab

Customized for sporadic breakdowns of the soul.

Imagination cultivates seedlings of positive perception.

Mediocrity subsides.

But I still look gaunt and frazzled.

At home in the mirror is a constant reminder.

Microscopes magnify after late-night debauchery,

Self-examinations with malignant results.

Who’s this man leering at me with misguided purpose?

This coward putting up his feeble defenses,

Mistakes littering his life’s rap sheet.

Twisting, turning, contorting, flexing,

The best angles for advertisement—

Vanity is so disgraceful at home in the mirror.

What is existentialism?

Is it a worthless excuse for recklessness

Or the most important conviction we have for living freely?

Is it the scapegoat for irresponsible dreamers

Or the revolution overthrowing evil dictators?

Materialism, narcissism,

Crude self-promoters—

I’m no lemming; I’m the minority,

The madness against the masses.

My jaded eyes, their deaf ears,

Prejudicial pomposity of society,

Opinionated aristocracy,

Prominent socialites dominate.

Maladjusted misfits,

Procrastination in the afternoon,

Heartaches in the evening—

Beautiful girls are gatekeepers of contentment.

Scores need settling,

Starting with reflections infesting affirmation.

The man scrutinizing me is my estranged best friend, most intimate enemy.

He echoes my condolences for the emotionally departed

But disagrees with my definition of happiness.

There’s sadness in his youthful eyes.

When did getting drunk and gaining the acceptance of strangers become so important?

What about the goals I’ve set for myself?

Years of opportunities have passed me by without a good job or a good woman.

I’m soliciting refunds for every broken promise and kick out the front door.

The cup spilleth over, but the deluge is confusion

About the divine plan we’re not supposed to speculate.

Are we ignorant to believe that as individuals our importance is greater than anyone else’s?

Is it possible we’re insignificant reprocessed drones

Placed on a spiritual conveyer belt headed for a silent oblivion?

Harsh reality for a life we gullibly assumed was sanctified.

Life and death, God and Jesus, heaven and hell—

Factuality or fabrications?

We know nothing of these mysteries.

Will we ever?

This pseudoextrovert and alert devil’s advocate doesn’t trust anyone anymore.

How could he if he doesn’t trust himself?

Not until he lends his heart to another willing specimen will he again sleep soundly,

Two fingers crossed behind his back,

Caressed by the hands of perseverance.

Then and only then will reflections he considered hopeless

Flourish in the splendor of vindication.

Truth-Telling Wine

Chalice before me,

Serum inside—

Sadness or sobriety

Decide the night.

Road not taken,

Straight and smooth—

Rather the winding

Instead of the cruise.

Yammering televangelist,

Contradiction and lies—

Philandering prophet,

Sinful surprise.

Half-full or half-empty?

Glass of sympathy,

Forth and back, error and trial—

Never a rose but a dozen denials.

Can’t