A Kind and Gentle Man

This was a man of gentle goodness,
A warm and gentle soul,
Kindness flowed like water,
Naturally from within.

This was a tortured man,
Pain known only to him,
Who touched all those he encountered
With polite grace, and dignity.

He was one who gave
When he had little,
Trusted, when no one else would,
Became a pillar of strength
In difficult times,
For those he loved;
And strangers, alike.

This was a kind and gentle man,
And we are proud to call him Father,
Proud to call him friend,
And we now know
That he is in a better place,
In better hands,
At peace.

The Measure of a Man

Just what is the measure of a great man ?

Is it courage, check.
Is it fairness, check.
Is it love, check.
Is it humour.  check.
Is it compassion, check.
Is it leadership... check.

Head held high,
Cane in hand,
Chin up,
Ever reaching forward,
Toward equality and fairness.

A kind smile, piercing eyes
And steadfast voice for the less fortunate.
Fighting a battle we all must now join him in.
The battle of compassion over cynicism,
Optimism over fear,
Sharing over greed,
Love, over anger and animosity.
Freedom over oppressive regression.
Yes my friends, the battle for Canadian tradition.

This man, just one voice,
Spoke for many who had no voice,
Inspired many to action.
This man has left a mark
In the hearts of all of us.

What is the measure of a great man.
Look no further than Jack Layton.
For he was a real Canadian.

Tears

They do not rinse the pain away,

Do not stop the clock,

Do not listen to opinion,

Will not stop to talk,

They only drain a cavity,

Between the heart and soul,

A mirror made of memory,

Out of your control,

They are a gift,

I think you'll see,

Without which we would drown,

Worth no more than one small smile,

No less than one fresh frown,

Tears just drop because they can,

Flow because they must,

A river beautiful and free,

Everyone can trust,

So next time you see teardrops fall,

Just like they had eyes,

Remember it's so laughs can grow,

In between the cries.

Dwelling

   
In my dwelling,
I have found,
Too much confusion,
And when I think,
I think too much,
And so delusion,
Takes my brain,
Where I can't find it,
Like I'm somewhere,
Trapped behind it,
And if I knew,
Oh never mind,
It's an intrusion,
In my dwelling,
There are people,
Who aren't there,
I can see them,
Sitting cross legged,
On the chair,
But when I reach
To touch them,
They disappear,
So I can't trust them,
So I guess,
I'll fix my eyes,
Into a stare,
In my dwelling
On myself,
I've come between me,
And now I can't remember,
If I've seen me,
But I'll keep on keeping on,
Till all is said and done,
And I think, I therefore have,
Forever, been me.


...for Dad.

Distant Presence

Your words and music,
Caress my aching mind,
I can feel the stress subside,
Your angels voice,
Brings a welcome, draining,
Tear to my eye,
And I'm grateful,
For your distant presence,
Your music,
Washing over me,
Purifies my soul,
And your gift's so sweet,
It bites my spine like fire,
So clear, there in your voice,
And I'm grateful,
For your distant presence,
Your voice,
Releases me from doubt,
With it's haunting, yearning, love,
It represents,
A pure, rare, truthful, talent,
Cascading down from above,
And I'm grateful,
For your distant presence,
Your voice,
Has enchanting innocence,
Inherently, inspiring, 
So beautiful,
It heals my hurting heart,
And I hope,
You keep on singing,
Forever,
And I'm grateful,
For your distant,
Presence.

Bull

    I am not a gifted poet
Just a spewer of the word,
If it forms a poem so be it
It irrelevant, absurd.

I am not a pretense prophet,
I just comment and observe,
Now and then as luck would have it
We get back what we deserve

I am not a saint, or seer,
Not a sentimental sage,
I am just another seeker
Turning  yet another page.

This is just a ball of fire,
Covered by a coat of mud,
We are just a bunch of carbon,
Floating in a sea of blood

Do not think what we do matters,
Earth will turn when we are gone,
We are just a tenant renting,
Eviction notice pending dawn

Heed these words, they are no deeper,
Than a babies unheard cry,
  If we aren’t our brother’s keeper,
   Truth be told, we live a lie.

This is just more bull I’m shitting,
No need to listen, nothing new,
What’s the diff I am only spitting,
Words and phrases over you.

Take or leave these words of wisdom,
For they are not wise at all,
We create with pride a prison,
Into which we all will fall.