Redemption and Brotherhood

Here is something perfectly irreverent, yet too benevolent to entirely irritate most remotely rational devotees. This is how it is done, not with fire and brimstone, but with a kind smile and a dose of humanity. And what if... Ah, it is kind of fun to imagine a scenario like this.

Redemption and Brotherhood

After laying in a cave for what seemed like forever, nursing his wounds, the wounded man woke up early one morning, finally feeling quite refreshed. He decided to sneak out before dawn to rustle up some mutton and eggs on a biscuit.

The whole ordeal took quite a while. He had to visit three different farms. At the first farm he spotted a door off its hinges, so he fixed it and took some eggs. At the second farm he saw the barn was a mess, so he swept it and took some mutton. At the third farm he saw that the rope for the well was frayed, so he replaced it and took a biscuit. Then he went in to the blacksmith's cabin, where the hearth was always going. He cooked himself a meal. Then he noticed that the blacksmith had left some unwashed dishes from the previous evening. The man washed those, and the ones he had dirtied that morning.

After the man was well satiated, he stepped outside. The sun was just emerging far out over the horizon. He strode out over the hills and watched the sun climb up into the sky. It was such a blissful sight, that he lay back in the grass and took a nap.

Approaching mid day, the man awoke to the far off sound of a commotion, in the direction of his cave. He rose to his feet and strolled over to investigate.

The circumstances which had originally placed him in that cave to die were unfortunate. The man could not be sure that all had been forgiven by the authorities. It was possible that they might still want him dead. He pulled a shroud up over his head to hide his identity as he grew closer to the noise.

Presently he came within earshot, hiding behind a thicket of trees to listen. An excited crowd had gathered outside the cave, and some were in clear histrionics.

"He is risen from the dead!" one exclaimed.

"He died for our sins!" cried another.

"We have sinned against the chosen one," pronounced a third.

"Let us pray for his forgiveness," they all agreed.

Then suddenly the thunder of hooves approached, and Roman Centurions rounded the corner, emerging from the hills into the clearing. "What is the meaning of this!?" demanded the Captain.

"He is risen!" a peasant repeated.

The Captain dismounted from his stead in a huff and marched into the cave. He had been in there only a moment when he stormed back out into the clearing. "Jesus of Nazareth is missing! Find him! Or by Zeus I will have one of your hides in place of his!"

With that the Captain mounted his horse and with his men galloped off into the distance. The peasants all breathed a sigh of relief once the Centurions were out of sight. "Ah men," said one. "Jesus died for our sins. Let us pray that he returns."

Jesus thought about stepping out of the bushes These people certainly seemed to worship him. But when this whole thing started he had never imagined it would get so out of hand. He was just a carpenter who had reasoned out a few things and shared them with his friends. Now people were worshipping him like a God. He just wanted to find a nice girl, settle down somewhere, make a small farm, and raise a family. All that celebrity would get in the way of those ambitions.

After a few moments of mulling it over Jesus sighed. He decided he would just slip away, and go somewhere that nobody knew him so he could start over.

By now, the chanting in the clearing had reached a fevered pitch. Jesus backed away quietly. When he had created enough distance he ran up into the hills. Centurions were everywhere. He wouldn't get far walking in the daylight. He ducked into another cave to rest and wait for nightfall.

About ten minutes had passed when Jesus heard footsteps outside. Jesus backed far into the shadows of the cave and held his breath. To be caught now by a centurion would be a fate worse than death. The peasants would feel betrayed, and they would all spit on him as he was put to a more certain death this time.

The footsteps grew closer, and then they entered the cave. The figure appeared as a silhouette in the doorway, with rays of sunlight streaming in behind him. Jesus could not make out who it was. Then there was a whisper, "Jesus." Who could it be? The voice called a little louder. "Jesus, are you in here?"

The figure shuffled a little deeper into the cave. "Jesus, if you're in here, I am sorry that I betrayed you."

Could it be him? The friend who had done him in? From the cross, Jesus had looked down upon the regret in his eyes. He believed in the sincerity of the words he had just heard. But could he risk that he might have misread the man? How could he not? Such a friend would not betray him twice.

Jesus stepped out of the shadows. "Judas, is that you?"

"Jesus! You're alive!"

"Yes my friend. But how did you find me?'

"So wracked was I with guilt, that I had gone into the woods to hang myself. Then just as I was fitting the noose over my head, I spotted a man who looked like you running into the hills! I could not believe my eyes! I removed my head from that deadly tourniquet and followed the one I had witnessed, to see if it was truly you or if madness had set in to justify my darkly mission."

"It is me, my friend." Jesus smiled. "I am glad you are not dead."

"And I, you." The two men stood staring at one another for a wondrous moment. Then Judas sighed. "Jesus, did you call me friend?"

"Well, that's what you are."

"But after what I have done."

"Nonsense. You were confused. I could see how that tragic misjudgment weighed on your conscience. I did not imagine you could ever consider taking your own life. However, while I lay about healing, the center of my contemplation was over how the guilt of what you had done would follow you for all your days."

"I could not bear it!" Judas admitted, the tears streaming down his face.

"Ah, but I am alive now," said Jesus as he threw his arms around his friend. "You have suffered enough by believing that I was dead. I forgive you."

"Thank you Jesus."

Jesus stepped back and took stock off the other man. "What are your plans?" he asked.

"I don't know. There is nothing here for me now. Even if the others are to know that you live, most would not forgive me as you have. I suppose I must go away and start over somewhere new."

"Music to my ears!" Jesus laughed. "This is my plan too. Celebrity has run its course for me. I seek a quiet life in my next iteration."

"A quiet life sounds nice. But how? Your name, and even my name, are known far and wide."

"Then we shall change our names and shave our beards."

"What shall we call ourselves Jesus?"

"No more Jesus. From now on, call me Hank."

"Hank? I like it."

"Good. And what shall you call yourself?"

"I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"

"I always thought Jerry was a cool name."

"Jerry? I like it. I'll be Jerry and you will be Hank, and we will journey north to find wives."

"Then it is settled," said Jesus, aka Hank. "As soon as night falls we will go."

And so they went, never to be seen in the south lands again.

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.