Category: Requiem

Poem – 2021 – Memories Wash Over Me

Poem – 2021 – Memories Wash Over Me

Today, I took a moment and then a few more
To think of you and feel
All the memories wash over me on
The breath of a wish, the sigh of our dreams,
And the knowing that you will always be part of me
In the stories I tell my child,
Drawing pictures for him so he will
Always remember…
Tomorrow and many more days to come
I will both forget and remember
That you aren’t here physically, and I will take a moment—
Again—
Then I will talk to you anyway
About our day, and still sharing
As we always did before.
Memory is a blessing, and we carry you with us
Every single day, mei mei,
And I revel in the joy of having had you in my world.

G. S. Skye
11:59 6 July 2021

Poem - Memories Wash Over Me - GalenSkye
It was your birthday, today… (Draft)

It was your birthday, today… (Draft)

It was your birthday today…
Instead of grief
I celebrated;
Life,
Friendship…

Eternity in a grain of sand…
The flames of your hair cascaded through my hand.
Wherein this love my hope does lie
Within a child’s breath, sweet whisperers fly.

Grieve no less, yet, fear no more.
My heart allows a simple joy.
Such a friendship in childhood made
That even death does naught to fade.

It was your birthday, today,
As well as the day you died.
Yet, now I see,
As long as I live,
Breathe,
And Hope,
You are still alive in me.

It was ten years ago, today…
And yet, instead of grief,
When I raised my glass to you
I celebrated;
Life,
Friendship…

Eternity in a grain of sand…
Your laughter, your fierce friendship,
A choice of family, binding so many of us
Together even after you’ve gone.

Grieving gave way to healing time
Our hearts are allowed the simple joy
Of knowing the mark upon us you made
That even death didn’t fade.

So, as I drink this scotch, tonight,
And through the momentum of life
Your memory has remained vibrant within me.

We see that as long as we continue forward,
As long as I remember to
Live, Breathe and Hope
Within my heart friendship survives.

2009/2011
For ELN

Poem – Enough. (Draft, 2018)

Poem – Enough. (Draft, 2018)

Enough.

I remember the protests of Vietnam.
Barely, but they resonated
in the conversations around me,
that I couldn’t read.

This, at the beginning of my life.

Democracy apparent as people
gathered to protest a
War that wasn’t called a war.


What is war, then?
This conflict of words that clashes with
expectations and fences
with our vision of a free and
powerful country seems to ignore
many of the responsibilities that power entails.

I remember standing at the steps of
City Hall in my hometown
protesting the Gulf War.
I was 18—
Straddling that life moment between
childhood and adulthood.

I remember the flash of cameras, the
press of bodies,
people shouting rhythmic rally cries, and I
remember feeling self-conscious
as words or protest left my own lips.

When the pushing and shoving started,
I let the movement propel me to the
fringe of the crowd and asked
“Why am I here?”,
“Why do I protest?”

I had no answer,
so, I quietly walked away and
back to my dorm room.
Sitting on my bed in silence
I pondered my freedom of choice.

When planes dove– like birds from the sky,
their targets not just our people, but
our sense of national security, too,
it left it bleeding away on the
the foundation of our country.
War took a more terrorizing and
sinister meaning than before.

The game has changed.
Life moved forward, though.
A different, less comfortable life,
But we adapted,
Secured ourselves with the mantle of power
And moved on.

And then, my world stopped.

Everything paused.

The pedestal of hope and security cracked.

Thirty-two lives gone,
One, gone, oh god—
There’s that bittersweet
memory of a past love,
shattered. The place in your mind that
past loved ones live, where you know they are safe,
goes quiet–
extinguished in an instant with
the sharp repeat of the gun echoing in the air.

The veil of security, that belief that
‘it couldn’t, wouldn’t happen’ to anyone you know
ripped away.
And all along with it, the echoes continue.
You can’t speak, for fear you might scream
and never stop.

The silence as the protests and outcries
are ignored slowly engulfs you.

And then more, and more, and so many more.

Children are dying.
Young lives cut to the ground
Before they ever had a chance to become–
Just a hook on the wall, where a
small coat still hangs, never to be worn again.

“Where is the War now?” we asked,
ready for battle.
“We must fight it, give me the enemy.”

And yet the world just kept turning
as the dust settled on the desks and in the
empty halls.

My son was born, and I let the love
of him wrap around me in a cocoon
of family and newness.
For a time, that sense of security returned.
And then it was time for him to go to school.

We have had wars and conflicts. We
proclaim to fight a never-ending
War on Drugs.  Yet,
we quietly walk away as
war is waged by our citizens

…on our Children.

This is more insidious than war.
This is our children dying
while the government that
swears to protect us,
brandishes empty promises like a
sword missing its edge.

It protects our “freedom”, more than it protects our lives.

It protects the guns, more than our children.

We have to fight this internal
War of indifference.
As war is a battle between different powers,
the time to take back the
power of our country is now.

The power must shift and the
children of this country should be our first priority.

Our future depends on it.
This is a battle worth fighting.
This is why protests exist and
why compromise is king only when
progress is made

Again, hearts bleed on the day when it
Should be candy and flowers scattered across the floor,
not the crimson stains of horror and despair.

This time, the children are rising and calling for
change, because no one was listening.

Why is no one listening?
They keep dying and no one is
Heeding their screams.
They keep asking us for help,
to keep them safe, and
No one is heeding their call.
They keep praying and
no one is hearing their prayers over the
“Ching, ching” of political favors.

The children in Parkland stood up, though, and said,

“ENOUGH!”

Did you hear them?
Did you see them?
Do you understand that this is
the battle you need to fight today?
This is the stand you take?

And today, when nineteen more perish,
trapped in a room, no way out,
suddenly silenced.

Do you hear them?
Do you understand their sacrifice?
Can you continue to stomach your inaction?

Is it enough, yet?

Before more gentle voices are silenced…

Again.

-G. S. Skye 14 March,2018

Edited 26 July 2021 and 24 May 2022

Promise Kept

Promise Kept

Promise kept
A single stem lay in my palm,
The bloom vibrant in this unsettling calm.
Storms begin to brew.
Determination drives my will
To pluck apart these petals few.
My tribute to you at last.
For you, these petals lay upon the sand,
Waiting for the water to rinse the shores of land.
Footsteps echo from the past.
Slowly each petal flows out to sea;
Each taking with it a part of me.
Lightening flashes in the sky.
Electric currents pull me to
Water’s edge and remind of you;
Your will as strong as thunder.
As the last petal to the horizon rides,
Upon waves that come in with the tides,
I free your soul again.
Laughter dances in memory’s air,
As the petals finally disappear.
And with them the ache lessens.
Promises kept, and so you see,
I have kept within the better part of me
My favorite parts of you.
– a draft

Promise Kept by Galen S. Skye
Alone

Alone

Silence surrounds
As her soul weeps in fear.
Lost to despair as she stares at the ground;
Fresh earth entombing one she held dear.
As twilight fades and darkness comes
The nighttime symphony softly sings
And solitude enshrouds her– her heartbeat thrums.
Such a forsaken figure pondering the end of hope death brings.
So Quiet.
So Distant.
Forever seems such a very long time
To be
so
very
alone.
 

Poem - Alone - by Galen Skye
Whispers in Twilight (1998)

Whispers in Twilight (1998)

The iridescent hues blur the world
As the sun sets in the west.
A lazy sense of finality settles
Like a mantle of time upon my shoulders.

Turning the corner visions assault me.
A bird chirps from a nearby tree.
I look around expecting you to be
Near enough– I could reach out and touch you if I tried.

Shaking ghosts from my mind I walk on down
The stairs to my comfortable home
Knowing I’ll be greeted by the wagging tail
Of my only child.

The comfort of having something there
Is never lost on me, though,
So I smile, pet the wriggling pup
Hang up my coat, and greet the cat.

I pause.

There you are again.
The comforting scent of familiarity
Wrapping me in the memories of
Love and friendship.

I must be loosing my mind.

Muttering to my pets, I drop my keys and open my
One piece of mail, only to toss it aside in disgust
Turning my back on the offending junk as it
Floats down onto the growing pile by the trashcan.

Unconsciously, I glide over to the stereo and soon
Music fills the room.
Looking down suddenly as yet another memory
Flashes though my mind and I chuckle at my find.

A bottle overturned— The pungent scent that had been
Taunting me since my return home–
Slowly dripping down the dark wood
And onto the carpet.

Avoiding the memories both
Joyful and poignant: the loss of you still fresh,
I quickly clean up the mess
And push aside the slight twinge of disappointment.

I knew you weren’t really here
And the ghosts were merely figments,
Yet, the possibility lifted
The stress and exhaustion for just a while.

Memories are a comfort.

And while I turn back and
Wander into my bedroom,
I failed to see a small
Gift left for me…

The white rose stands in the corner
Quiet and regal, wild in it’s mystery,
Bowed slightly in acknowledgment
That anything… can happen…

Poem – Ode to a Bee and Lament to Callie

Poem – Ode to a Bee and Lament to Callie

Upon a leave of clover it alit
Just near where she did sit.
And there, so quietly
Sniffed our dear Callie.
Gentle spirit, good ole friend,
Gone out with Dad fishing again.
Shaken paws and belly rubs.
Days forever filled with Golden love.
Little sis, yet older still,
So much joy our lives she did fill.
Gentle creature, our hearts she did win.
Let your forever begin anew my friend.

3 sept, 2015