Rest, now.

My dear friend died yesterday of cancer, age 32.

Wisdom, bright and bold

He held a light,

A light so bright it warmed

Even the dust

Kicked up

Behind him when he left.

 

Gentle, kind and crass

He made us laugh until we cried

He made the outlook somewhat hopeful,

And I can’t help but think…

 

This world wasn’t good enough

For him.

This world wasn’t good enough

To him…

  

Sweet friend, you raised the bar

And we raise a toast

That peace may find you

Wherever you are.

 

 

For Darryl “Fluffy” Baird.

7^th February, 2008.

 

Rest In Peace.

 

Reviews

[~ Tex]

I didn't know Fluffy, but i know you... and that tells me all i need to know... obviously, Fluffy was a helluva person; after all, we don't write about people or things unless they seriously impact us.

And, people with nicknames, especially 'Fluffy,' are always the greatest people in the world because they are so much larger-than-life... you have to be to earn a nickname. No matter what the name and story, there are millions that are similar, but only the truly special garner the nickname.

I imagine Fluffy to be just that sort of person.... truly lighting the way with words of wisdom... even in his wake.

In life, most people will deal with cancer. Many of us have, do, or will battle it.

For some of us, it's a never-ending war because the damn stuff keeps coming back like a bad cold you just can't seem to shake.

Every time we win, we'd like to think of ourselves as a modern-day Thor... clubbing down the cancer... when in truth, it simply was not our time.

We all have to believe in something... that's the human plight and nature. I'm not sure why people would rather believe there is nothing after the life we live now... seems to me that's a remarkably pathetic way to live your life... believing that this is as good as it gets.

The way i see it, life is like Vegas... you bet the odds. If you bet on the afterlife and there is none, well, you're dead anyway, so it won't matter, but at least you lived life with some hope.

Of course, if you don't bet on the afterlife, and there is one, then you're screwed.

So... i choose to believe that there is a beautiful after life and that Fluffy, unlike the rest of us slugs, had done his work here and earned his place in Heaven. He was truly a warrior, who fought the good fight, and that in itself should render him a seat at the great table in Valhalla.

I didn't know you 'til now Fluffy, but by the read of it, I'd say you're one helluva person... my kind of people.

May you rest in peace, brother... rest in peace.

hmmm, the hell with resting bro, enjoy the deeee-luxe a-com-o-day-shuns up there! You earned the right to thrive in the light after a lifetime of shining on your own.

[Brette Medb]

It's hard losing someone you love, especially at an age so young. I'm sorry it took so long to review and I'm sorry for your loss.

Brette

[John Sanders]

A lovely tribute. It's hard losing friends...but writing provides a sort of therapy, does it not?

[AK]

Beautifully written. I'm sorry for your loss.

[Adam Greenfield]

So very hard to leave a comment for a piece of this subject besides I'm very sorry for your loss. This was a beautiful tribute.

[Phill Oz O'fee]

A poetically triumphant tribute and celebration to a good friend, too soon taken from those, who will miss him most.

My condolences to you and his family.

God's Blessing
Phillozofee

[Edward Clay]

and the dust is still kicking up, as he now travells through the canyons of your words, living still in the memory and the toasts, and the laughs that he will still bring.

my deepest sympathies to you and to your dear friend.

[Lyr J. Thirsk]

as if to say sorry would be remote, enough of a blessing or caress for you,
it wouldnt
as if the life and world would light up some more, now that he left
it cant, it dims
but the world for which he built inside your heart and mind, is now a birth
he is borne forever in forests of you and plains of memory, respondent to utter whims of moment's fanciful remembrance,
mountains sprouting in words, that they be a natural homage, would it be do sweet had they be more than meerly words, a breath and thought replacing his moment, his time, his place...
spoken and raised this toast and gesture or yours, for that token is all that can be achieved
and it is enough for this world

im sorry for your loss...

[fireblossom]

This poem is an impressionist painting of a girl looking away from the burning sun toward a comforting shadow. She can look into the sun on a brave day, a self-confident day but not this day. Today she choses not to look into the void but into the memory, a more comforting place.

Your writing is of course delicate as silk.