you have made the world

you have made the world
a better place
and by your gestures
graced the darkened earth,
how lucky i was to know you
Baucis of the deep blue lake.
though left alone with half a heart
and longing for the golden meadow
still offered godlike hospitality
until the light consumed you.

brave Baucis of the falling bombs and
thundering ocean waves
made a journey to this
green and yellow shore
with Philemon at her steadfast side
and planted there a tree of love
that grew into the gift of
many grateful lives.

peace... peace
upon your tired face
once glowing so brightly 
upon the farmhouse hearth.
your graces burn within me
as we mourn, in our own way,
the reunion of Baucis and Philemon

we must go on

we must go on
through loss of present things
carried by the wake of
absence
my god has it been a year
since your smiling face
vanished from the earth?
has the sky seen such
vaulting joy?
in my mind's eye
your face floats before my own
pale but smiling
gazing with
Buddha serenity
but i cannot mirror this
tranquility
not yet
and i fear dear cousin
not ever

the boys are gone

the boys are gone and
the chairs stand empty
at their Thursday meet
we cannot cheat the grave
or save ourselves from
their fated journey
but i'll miss our talks and
sunny walks around
the green, green park
with your little black dog
who loves those squirrels
and you the best
it's time to rest
dear neighbour
time to rest

a prairie flower

a prairie flower
wilted and gone
what life those rays
gave to the green
ground and eyes...
       
            May 27, 2020

Through Elysian Fields

"In no fix'd place the happy souls reside.

In groves we live, and lie on mossy beds,
By crystal streams, that murmur thro' the meads:
But pass yon easy hill, and thence descend;
The path conducts you to your journey's end."
This said, he led them up the mountain's brow,
And shews them all the shining fields below.
They wind the hill, and thro' the blissful meadows go.

-Virgil

Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen 1934-2016













fireflies dance in
Leonard Cohen's eyes
does the world care
when a poet dies?
"not for me, my love,
my love don't cry.
wave to the stars
for your goodbye"

Cole

there are no promises in this life
not even life itself
Cole was 11 months old when
he died of leukemia
how many prayerful nights his
parents sat watching his
tiny form
happy child brought down into
the grave
newly born dead before the
end of your first year

Ray

To Ray
Two years ago today
Memories replay
While bodies pass away
All subject to decay
Yet in my heart you stay
That's all there is to say

Robin Williams (1951-2014)

Hard to believe it's been a year already. 
Rest in peace Robin Williams.

little dog Molly

little dog Molly
after divorce I found you
man whose loneliness
only a spirit like you could ease
cardboard box dusty brothers and sisters
away from farm in hands of friends
new home at Clear Lake
you cried all night for family
a little bird that couldn't fly
I fed you and let you know
things would be ok
you grew and we explored
your fearless heart beating
two times to mine

finding work we left for new water
different woods begged exploration
damp nose sniffing
canine explosion you flew!
Port Carling's hills had never seen
the likes of Molly
pure exultation on four paws
we ran those roads together
when evening fell on pine and spruce
your eyes rested quietly as
I with lovers whispered

again we found new water
endless fields to Huron's rocky beach
it was all yours and remains yours
even the place where you fell to
coyote's razor teeth
to escape and turn on your attackers
while banging pots and pans
we begged you to return
"she was lucky, most don't get away"
muttered vet fussing over gaping wounds
you, sparkle in your eye
invincible
healing quicker than
coyote's pride

to north returning
forest, hill, and rabbit
because little dogs and children
often see eye to eye
but you had open spaces
hunt and Highland air
a loving hand
other furry friends for play

life was play and sleep
though play the greater part
you quickened those around you
indefatigable zest
stilled only by disease
how can I thank a dog
(or any love deceased)
appreciation overflowing
when no one was there
you were there
and now you're gone forever

in my mind's eye I see you running
mouth open scooping up the wind
dark eyes flashing pure joy
Va! Molly Va!
rest only at earth's warm hearth
home for all once beating hearts

Move over Joe

move over Joe
make way for the multitude
of pikininis whose lives you've touched
the nihonjin to whom you held out a hand
whose damp caves the only succor
in those dark days after the atom split
you were the brighter light!
incarnate Friend I remember you

 

and I remember a story you told me:
in the jungle of Papua
friend Jab took something that wasn't his
you good man confronted him
demanded payment be made
and he cursed you
in anger you struck his face
then both with shocked expression
embraced and wept
he repayed the theft
but you returned the money
(the fine for striking another)

 

I remember the tear in your eye
as you shared this story
and I know you've shed more
since your darling RB has gone
through war, cyclone, disease
she held your hand
she holds it still

 

move over Joe
make way for the ones you loved
spanning globe and time
they fill the world
because you filled it
and I with your memory
am full this Christmas season

 

It is almost noon

The last post from Gillian Bennett, a woman fighting to end her own life legally in Canada.

With the dark night of dementia closing in she decided to take her own life yesterday at noon, but not before writing this letter on her blog Dead at Noon.

Thank you Gillian for standing up and embodying human dignity.

Robin Williams (1951-2014)

I hope you found your Summerland..
Rest in peace Robin Williams.

My Friend the Ant

One morning while I was having a shower I noticed a large ant appear out of the top of the shower door frame. At first I was startled to see such a large bug in such close proximity to my naked body. Having gotten over my initial reaction I decided to observe the ant to see what it would do. I watched as it moved along the shower ridge, pausing at drops of water to dip it's head and do what I can only describe as having a drink, before heading on to the next drop. Indeed, each time it paused and dipped its head, the water droplet grew smaller. He was certainly drinking or collecting this water. I suddenly felt sorry for the ant, living in the frame of my shower door, coming out in the face of danger to have a drink. I watched as it clung to the top of the ridge with the legs on one side of its body while hanging down to reach drops that were farther away. How dangerous this maneuver was! If the ant slipped it would mean certain death in the bottom of the hot and soapy shower. I gently raised my finger and deposited a number of small water drops along the top of the stall. This way the ant might avoid the risk of falling. For the ant's part it seemed not to notice or at least acknowledge this act of charity but did drink from my drops thereafter. After completing my shower I watched the ant scurry quickly into hiding as if it knew it should clear the premises once the human wasn't busy washing itself.

Over the next few days I would see the ant almost every time I had a shower. Each time I would deposit the water drops safely along the ridge and the ant would drink until my bathing was complete. If the ant didn't make an appearance I would feel as if I had missed a friend. Then tonight as I was finishing up my evening routine I noticed something in the bottom of the shower stall. The colour and approximate size were right, but I avoided looking more closely. Then as I prepared to turn off the bathroom light, I saw that it was indeed the lifeless body of my friend the ant. Had it slipped and fell into that steaming torrent? Had it been knocked there by a towel carelessly thrown over the shower wall? A feeling of sadness washed over me. We two lifeforms, so different in size and appearance, even in the way we experienced the world, were nevertheless united in some inexpressible way.

Its passing is noticed, its absence felt. My friend the ant.

Jeffrey Baldwin's Tribute

Tribute's arrive too late
As if a consolation to the living
While little boy's silence
Lingers there where tortured life
Hungry neglect
Emaciation dissolution
Superman antithesis
Projection of our need to believe
A spirit overcoming
The worst of human depravation
But there was no overcoming
Little spirit lately crushed
Did you feel like Superman?
Tattered feces-filled pajamas
Climbing weakly up those stairs
To die of kryptonite indifference
Oh human tragedy! 
What love and joy you could have known
What comfort were you given?
There gasping chill floor
Scraps and child indistinguishable
We built you a goddamn statue
As hard and cold as the ones you loved

John goes camping

Rest in peace John Pinette.  You were always one of my favourites. 

Fred Phelps

Fred Phelps, dead at age 84.  You hated fags.  How queer.

To Ray. part II

Deep sleeping icy void
How silent the choir!
Cloudy sky and Cold
Wintery draft extinguished candles
Frost crystals form 'round
Rattling window panes
Dim shadow cast over
Closed pale eyes

Mourning breaks on this day
January 20, 2014
requiescat in pace
For there is none here

For Nickle

"...And all the phantoms of the dream,
With present grief, and made the rhymes,
That miss'd his living welcome, seem
Like would-be guests an hour too late,
Who down the highway moving on
With easy laughter find the gate
Is bolted, and the master gone."     Tennyson

Nickle you will be missed..

Marilyn

On this day 51 years ago a beautiful soul passed away.  Raising a glass to Marilyn..
Media vita in morte sumus.