A Sunset

A sunset drifts across a weary sky.

Would that I were a bird to fly

To chase that ever fleeting light

Far beyond the grasp of night.

But alas, long have I made my nest

Where darkness soon shall usher rest.

For all the many years I toiled and plotted,

Hope I did my best with the time allotted.

My solace now is but to know I flew

During brighter days, under skies of blue, 

Filling every hour, whether hard or soft

By reveling joyously in my time aloft.

The chicks have hatched and taken wing. 

May they in daylight ever proudly sing.



(A friend posted a meme about aging, where there was reference to a beautiful poem that the speaker had forgotten. I decided to see If I could write a poem on the subject of aging.)

No, You Don't Have to Shake My Hand

(The following is a story I wrote some twenty years ago. In sorting through some old papers I came across it. I'm not sure where I stored the digital file. But I've always thought fondly of this story, as it represents a test I set for myself to tell an entire tale in the second person. However, it seems particularly apropos for sharing in this day and age. I considered spending the rest of my day searching for the file, but instead decided it would be a more efficient use of my time to transcribe this little wonder anew. There were a few minor tweaks made to the language and phrasing as I went along, and the ending was significantly re-worked and updated for a somewhat more modern workplace. So without further ado, I hope you enjoy this little number. And also, please wash your hands.)

You are standing in the hallway when he walks past. He is a co-worker and you have worked with him before. He is wearing a white dress shirt and a red tie. He is a salesman. He has closed many big deals on a handshake, some using your research. You notice as he enters the men’s room.

You would already be in there if you hadn’t stopped to talk to the sexy new assistant. Her eyes are like saucers brimming with cocoa. You want to put your lips to them and sip gently – But No! There is a different biological imperative at work now. You are in the hallway for a reason. You need to go. You wish you could explain to the cocoa eye assistant why you are walking away, but there is no tactful exit strategy for this situation.

You fret that the red tie salesman will gawk as you enter the restroom. He does not. He is not at the sink, or the mirror, or the urinal either. You are sure that you did not see him leave. You spot his brown dress shoes peaking out beneath the closed door of the far stall. There is no one else in the men’s room. Just you and him. It could only be red tie salesman behind that door. Whatever anxiety you had about revealing your business in there, is quickly replaced by the urging of a more pressing matter.

Your gut grumbles as you duck into the stall nearest to the door. A few rapid and familiar maneuvers later and you are seated. Relief! Your business is underway. You notice a newspaper on the floor. A headline sparks your interest. You pick up the periodical to investigate further. You can always find reading material in this restroom, regardless of time or stall. For a moment you wonder what the red tie salesman is reading. Perhaps he brought his own material. Perhaps not.

The scent of your leavings begins to permeate the stall. You’re gut tells you that you are not ready to depart, but that you may need to wait for your functions to regroup. You give a courtesy flush to wash away the scent. You continue reading the paper. Second later you hear another flush. You hear the rustle of clothing as red tie prepares to depart his stall. His stall door opens with the click clack of the lock being disengaged. The meatal door clangs back shut against the stall. You hear the dress shoes walk across the gray tiles, heading in the direction of the sinks. You wait for the sound of the faucet…

…The sound never comes. You spot his shoes as they pass outside your stall. The men’s room door opens with a "Whoosh" and then bangs shut with a thud as the red tie salesman exits. He didn’t even put up the pretense of pretending to wash his hands like some guys. He never stopped at the sink. There was not even a cursory splash of water or soap.

Will you ever be able to work with this guy again? Every time he hands you a document, you’re going to wonder whether his hands are clean. It will feel to you as if he had wiped his rear with the memo. You will have to wash your hands repeatedly, every time you work together – Not to mention shaking hands. That must be over right! There is not enough hand sanitizer in the world to allay your distress. What other things in common do you touch? Can you get dysentery from walking through the front door? You have heard that both Howie Mandel and Donald Trump don’t like to shake hands. Now you know why.

You have heard statistics – crazy statistics, which say that large portions of the population don’t wash their hands after using a restroom. You never believed it was true, but now you are realizing that it is true. You wish they had a sign in the office bathroom like the ones you see in restaurants which say “All employees must wash hands before leaving the restroom.”

You have another troubling thought. You wonder how many employees actually heed those signs in restaurants. Its not like a sign has any power to make anyone do anything. It’s a suggestion at best, telling you what the management wants, implying that there would be a penalty for noncompliance, if they could ever catch you.

You wish you had lingered a little bit longer with the cocoa eye assistant. You wish you did not know what you know now. How many more are there like him? You shudder at the notion. There are probably a bunch of non-washers on the floor. People are gross. How can you go on living among them, never knowing when the unclean will touch you? But you must go on. You cannot hide from the daily scourges of mundane reality.

You put down the paper and finish your business. At the sink you make sure to scrub hard. You sing “Happy Birthday” twice in your mind while working up a foamy lather. No matter how others shirk their own hygiene, your responsibility is to yourself. You leave the men’s room preoccupied, heading dutifully passed the cocoa eye assistant, back towards your desk. Your desk phone is ringing in the distance.

In the hallway your boss approaches. He wants to congratulate you, “A fine piece of work on that last report you sent me.” His hand begins to rise to shake yours. Is he one of them too? There is no way to know. You cannot risk it. Before his hand raises passed his hip, you nod and raise your hand to wave. “Appreciate it boss. Gotta get this.”

You duck into your office and pick up the phone. The red tie salesman is on the other end of the line. He wants you to stop by his office so he can hand you the specs for a last-minute project. Your hands are dried out from washing. You have not even moisturized yet. There is no way that you want to touch anything that guy has touched lately. You opt for a white lie. “Oh man, sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Can you just send me an email?”

“Okay,” he begrudgingly replies.

“Thanks,” you reply with relief. I’ll get on it right have I finish this other thing.” There is no other thing, but at least you dodged that bullet. Maybe you should start working from home.

Sonnet of the Fallen Swordsman

On a drab day beneath Russian skies

Did falling low evoke unplanned rise.

Entertainers outfitted in period dress

Upstaged at once by sudden duress.

Above the ground but beneath the stage

Cut short thy parry afore thy battle rage.

Over waxed wood with leather soles

Portend a descent into new found holes.

Medieval knight upon poor construction

Slid out of sight sans sword seduction.

At his misfortune compelled to chortle

Am I as he disappears beneath the portal.

May this constant loop of slapstick fate

Not injure dignity as fowl as did it his pate.


(This GIF was the inspiration for the sonnet.)

Defying the Prejudice of Low Expectations

You look at me and think you know just where I have been,

But you have no idea, I do not wear it on my sleeve.

Assumptions fail you, who cannot imagine what I have seen.

I have done so many things that you may not easily conceive.

 

Our obstacles and loves, our friends and family too

The majority of who we are is more than what we show

The threads of an existence are woven through and through

No furtive glance will ever tell you all you ought to know

 

There is more to see in a man than that which is well lit

So much of a life experience hides behind the eyes.

To your prejudice of low expectations, I refuse to submit.

Your superficial judgment clouds your mind with lies.

 

Before you jump to conclusions which usher your demise

Know that there is a higher road to which you may choose to rise.

Obviously

She said you’re not like the other boys

The way you stand up to all the noise

Never heed the pressure to conform

Always find a calm eye in the storm

 

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, the only way I know how to be

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, unapologetically

 

He said why you got to be so strange

I said peer pressure clings to you like mange

Stop trying to follow someone else

And find the courage to just be yourself

 

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, the only way I know how to be

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, one with my liberty

 

They said man you don’t belong

I said no that’s where you’re wrong

We’re all alone together here

Trust yourself and face your fear

 

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, the only way I know how to be

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, only I can set me free

She said you’re not like the other boys

The way you stand up to all the noise

Never heed the pressure to conform

Always find a calm eye in the storm

 

Obviously, Obviously

Obviously, Obviously

Obviously, Obviously

Obviously, it’s up to you to set you free

Woke up one day and I’m feeling low

Like anybody confidence takes a blow

Nobody around to help me out

On my own to face down my doubt

 

Shortcomings that I can’t deny

Want to run and want to cry

Feeling like I am born to fail

Slack tide and windless sail

 

Then saw my reflection in the glass

And knew that feeling had to pass

Nobody is really born to lose

In these moments we get to choose

 

Obviously, unapologetically

Obviously, one with my liberty

Obviously, it’s up to you to set you free

Obviously, only I can set me free

 

She said you’re not like the other boys

The way you stand up to all the noise

Never heed the pressure to conform

Always find a calm eye in the storm

 

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, the only way I know how to be

Obviously, never doubted that is me

Obviously, only I can set me free


Only I can set me free...Obviously

The Call to Arms

De-fund the police? 

De-fund the police?
Armed Robbery in progress!
What now?
Call a priest.

De-fund the police?

De-fund the police?

Domestic violence in progress!

Ma'am when you ask him to stop,

Remember say please.

De-fund the police?

De-fund the police?

Someone stole my car!

Piano man rolls up

Playing Beethoven's Für Elise.

De-fund the police?

De-fund the police?

Someone's shot down,

But sanitation is coming

To clean the street.

Reform the police?

No! What's that tripe?

Safety is paramount.

Down with them pigs!

What's in your pipe?

Reform the police?

Come on, please!

America's burning

Conflated injustice

Pervasive disease!

Reform the police?

But that cop with his knee -

Oh no, he was wrong

And I hear your plea -

How dare you agree!

De-fund the police!

De-fund the police?

But that's not what we mean.

Yet that is what you said?

Reform's what we need.

Lay down your weapons

Let the rhetoric wane

We all value our lives

So let's find common ground

And relieve the pain.

Listen here brother,

Can we stand arm in arm?

It's too brutal out there.

Too much policy wrong,

Too many tactics do harm.

There must be some way

To see eyes to eyes

And with sobered vision

Take the blindfold from Justice

Before another innocent dies.

One bad apple
Toppled that tree.
Seeded mistrust,
And poisoned the fruit
With enraged disease.

Hold back that hammer,
With your vengeance inflamed!
We need needle and thread
To sew up the flag
That adorns all our dead.

The blue wall of silence
Maims good intent
Gives cover to evil
Until the ghosts of ideals
Are fleetingly spent.

So much policy wrong
Feeds political plight,
With rank and file far afield
Having no clear recourse
Under cover of night.

I know that man.
He lives right next door.
Our kids play together
And we once had a picnic
Down by the shore.

Empower police!
Empower police?
A new vision enthrall
With accountability
And Justice for all.

Police and community
Should not stand alone
With this call to arms
Self-interest is clear
For peace in our homes.

De-fund the police?

No, no you're right.

Every life is so precious

And fleeting at once

Let us join in the light.

Tinsel of Futility

Tinsel of Futility

Comfort in senility

Cold stare of vacancy

Resigned to complacency

Those distant dancing lights
Of listless stargazing nights
The hopes he left un-sated
Detritus of the jaded

By tragedy endowed

Its too late for him now

As this stultifying shell

Encases him in hell

The promise of his past

Once seemed so bold and vast

But he never chose his purpose

Just skimmed across the surface

All those years of breathing

Filled by desperate seething

Never learned to be

Never running free

Never tested evidence

Subservient to dissonance

No life of values traded

Asleep as dreams grew faded

Now he sits alone

In this not so restful home

So many wasted years

End in only tears

Inside his brain is screaming

Regrets infest mind teeming

“Don’t make my mistake

As another human fake

Find fealty in the facts

By obligation to acts

Happiness isn’t magic

You choose not to be tragic

Let what you love be what you do

And work to see it through

All the values that you find

Are values in your mind

Let your soul run loose

Adapt and produce

Be a friend of man

And love yourself, you can

My time gone while yours emerging

Vicariously I watch you surging

Find my meaning inside you

And hope there it finds you too.”

But for him too late it is though

Nowhere that he can go

With his warning lost unheard

Catatonic fleeting words

Those distant dancing lights
Divorced from his plight
Beyond the realm of meaning
His conscience demeaning

Tinsel of futility

No comfort in senility

Cold Stare of vacancy

Trapped by complacency.

Give Me Liberty (Or Give Me Death)

Locked inside forever it seems

A storm raging outside

Time passes slowly and fast all at once

A never-ending tide

Fearful of what cannot be seen

The touch of death all around

New normal but how can this be

Gasping for breath with rasping sound

Life before seems taken for granted

Trapped here forever at home

Somehow trauma realigns the slanted

As we long for the freedom to roam

Lurking unseen the virus remains

Eager to infect some more pain

Swallowed the key to our own chains

Eying the door desperately seems insane

Give me liberty or give me death

No progress comes without action

Freedom is worth every breath

And principles provide traction

Give me liberty or give me death

While shadows tighten the noose

Living free is worth every breath

And fear is no excuse

The food in the pantry starting to thin

Making meals of crackers and dust

Nefarious forces discretely grin

While we grapple with whom to trust

Meanwhile funds also suffer this fate

Drifting away through a sieve

The hour perpetually seeming too late

How much of our lives must we give

Security is what we sought

But in return gained only fear

We wonder now if we should have fought

More boldly for that which we hold dear

That which is precious in home and hearth

Cannot be produced from a void

Man must roam unobstructed on Earth

For his productivity to be deployed

Give me liberty or give me death

No fruits from labors untended

The fight for freedom worth every breath

Until my battle has ended

Give me liberty or give me death

I’ll reap the seeds I’ve sewn

My virtues in life worth every breath

This life of mine I own

Dear Poet (On the Passing of Bill Withers)

Oh lovely poet's window eye

Who's verbal prism made us sigh;

A maple tap upon the soul

Sweetly sung to make us whole,

Sonorously soothing melodic sound

Your beacon voice warm and round

Expressed a melancholy deep and blue

Made hopeful by its finding you - 

Well now your time has come to leave

And I can scarcely bare to grieve. 

You left no room for mournful strife,

Dear Poet, your legacy is life...

Soundcloud Audio: Dear Poet (On the Passing of Bill Withers) by C. Gavin Skeen

Firefly

See you through the haze
Watching in a daze
Firefly in my hand

A fleeting moment

Like slipping sand.

I’m mesmerized

By blinking light

Lighthouse in darkest night.

Reach out

And try to hold,

But there’s no telling

How this may unfold.

Firefly if you should land

Tell me your story and

Leave me time to feel

Grateful that wisdom heels.

I know you cannot stay.

Must fly before its day,

To illuminate the sky

Before that final sigh.

Thank you for taking time,

That I may worship the sublime

Glow that you leave behind,

Still resonating in my mind.

The Earning

Where there is darkness be the light.
Where there is light mark the shadows,
Lest the darkness come to feel ignored,
And set its sights upon returning.

Others in light may ridicule your vigilance,
Because they have never been alone in darkness,
So they do not appreciate the danger.
See where they stand in the journey of life
And let them speak their naivety.
When your light finds them in darkness
They will understand what previously they could not.
For the world runs in cycles,
From night to day, And day to night,
Both finding each of us in their turn.

The light from without is fleeting,
But the light from within can be made steady,
By the life serving choices of a rational mind.
All life is a value worthy of your concern,
But a life which cannot conceive of death is also a danger.
Only through loss can we extrapolate greater loss
And in imagining thusly, gird against it.
Only through fear, can we find courage.

Your light is a badge upon your soul,
Commemorating the trials you have overcome.
Wear it so that others may know that it can be earned,
But do not cheat them of the earning.
There is no light within, without the earning.