That’s a body in that coffin
We will never see him again
Never talk to him
But there are a lot of things not in that coffin
His crazy laugh
His perceptive intelligence
That could penetrate walls
His barbed wit
He was an irascible old bastard
An awkward old sod
An impetuous madman who knew no boundaries
He hurt people
And we loved him
He loved people
And we hurt him
He was a confused wonderer
A thoughtful targeter
A gleeful commentator
A worried madman
A poet, musician, father and a man
His poems, his music and his thoughts are not in that coffin.
He’s left them back here with us.
He is alive in our memories.
He goes on and on forever through the ripples we all pass along
The bastard touched us
And moved the world.
Miss Him? It will be hard to live without him. But only part of him has gone.
I wrote this for a friend
Our lives are much too short. We only just get going and it is over.
Every friend gone leaves a hole.
All we leave are the ripples of our wake. They spread out endlessly to touch everyone, passing from one to another in an endless chain, like snooker balls, our ripples bounce off each other.
We may not touch others directly but we nudge and prod through others.
Friends are gone but they live on in our thoughts, our memories and the effect they had on us. They change us. We change each other.
Together we build a zeitgeist that changes the world.
I wrote this poem for a dear friend who is now a series of ripples that are resounding around this globe. I miss him. But I still feel him talking to me in my head. I take out my memories and dust them off. He still teaches me. He has left so much of himself behind for us.
It is wrong that he is gone, it makes me angry, but his ripples will live on for ever.