A  poet was given
a life sentence today.

He'll be going the way
of Bob Marley and Frank Zappa.

I saw him perform
over the last few decades.
Hip he was and always will be.

In the ranks of Canadian poets,
his peers being  Gordon Lightfoot,
Leonard Cohen and Mister Neil Young.

He wrote about the Canadian Prairies,
about New Orleans sinking and nautical disasters.
All with soul and intellect.

A friend said,
"You didn't have to
Know know know him
to love love love him".
And that's true.

With a heavy heart I ponder the noon news.
I recall the day I heard of John Lennon's ******.

The only time I ever cried
over the death of a celebrity.

Thoughts and prayers out to you Gordie,
and your family and friends.

Ironically tragic for one so Tragically Hip.

Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all treasures buried
And all you hear are rusty breezes
Pushing the weathervane Jesus

In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face
Maybe it's someone in the killers' place
Twenty years for nothing, well, that's nothing new
Besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

There's a dream he dreams where his high school's dead and stark
It's a museum where we are locked in it after dark
Where the the halls are all lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parent's Prime Ministers

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

Late breaking story on the CBC
A nation whispers, "We always knew he'd go free"
They add "You can't be fond of living in the past"
'Cause if you are then no way you're going to last"

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings



Gord Downie

Master of puppets cease the chatter and ruckus find what life's sum is 
Climb to the summet notice the smell will be pungent 
I can see his sights clear I hold no fear you froze in the middle like headlights on a deer causing the cataclysmic fate into which you peer 
I'll try not to get too wordy, to many word patterns while I chop this rhyme up in fury tell me what might the cure be ?
Lines lay down like corpses in a morgue dissecting you into a gord you life hangs by a thread or cord 
Empathy is something I can't afford 
Bitterness hate enacting my raging states leave you stiff In a lake 
Your body's bloated like yeast in a cake you existing was a mistake 
Your a ****** and who's body was turned stagnant your mind devoid of thought life in fragments rigamortis leaves you muscles tight together like magnets 
**** it , the bay harbor butcher with looks like Ashton Kutcher leave you with cuts you can't sutcher
Put ya in a state of endless suffering no pain subsiding or breaks ,there will be no buffering 
Let it end ,feel the life you want go and the agony tear your mind apart slow, you have nothing left to learn that I don't know I will forever domineer your soul

It was a warm soothing October day
A nation mourned your loss
The voice of Canada
Soundtrack to everyone’s summer
everyone’s heartbreak
Everyone’s love
A reason to celebrate
It was a beautiful day
Tragically sick
It’s no joke
We miss you Gord,
We needed someone like you
Someone who told the world
What we can do.
Canada misses you
And a year later it’s still the same
So pick up the ****,
And light it up
The Tragically hip
Here to **** **** up.

(Canada legalized **** on Gords death day)

I sat and watched the stars tonight
They burned so hot and shone so bright
Reminded me of your sweet love
and lifted me so high above
I sat and watched the angels sing
And saw you there with your new wings
you sang a sweet sad lullaby
It made me smile, then made me cry
Then back to earth too soon I came
Twas Bittersweet, to hear your name
on Angels voices high above
Sent back to earth without your love
I sat and watched the stars tonight
they burned so hot and shone so bright
But I touched heaven for a while
And I shall dream of you and smile...
Gord Merritt...

A new song I wrote titled "it all ends in why?"
There are times when I miss you
There are times when I cry
There are times when I I'm lonely
and times when I lie
And say I don't love you
Though I don't know why
I aint fooling noone
Though god knows I try.
There are days when I'm sunny
There are days when I rain
There are days when the storms come
again and again
I guess it just pride dear
that helps me hold on
And stop me from dying
or going insane.
Chorus
There are days when I'm lonely
There are days I am blue
There are days when I'm happy
Just thinking of you
There are days when I'm alright
and there are days that I try
But the days that I miss you
all end in Why?
Verse two
There are people who like me
and people who don't
There are people who love me
But there's one who just won't
There are people who know me
and know I'm a fake
Every time that I smile (at you)
they can hear my heart break
There are times when I wake up
and times when I sleep
but the last one is harder
cause my ache is too deep
But when I do sleep nights
what I try not to do
I try not to dream
Cause It's always of you
Chorus
There are days when I'm lonely
There are days I am blue
There are days when I'm happy
Just thinking of you
There are days when I'm alright
and there are days that I try
But the days that I miss you
all end in Why?
Gord Merritt

Sometimes the most beautiful stars are not the ones that shine the brightest. They are ones that always shine in the distance and help you find your way...
Gord Merritt

Tis sad, words to far and distant to be heard
Sentiment of a bygone era, to faint to hear but for the chosen few
Too few now to be counted and I fear too soon gone.

A brushed cheek, a flushed cheek and one heart skips a beat
Hand to cheek means nothing now but to those who capture hearts
and to those whos hearts need capture...

Hair in my face, a perfumes trace to speed the beat of a lonely heart
Touch of a hand, nape of neck and the lobe of an ear to lighty bite
Too subtle for these times but

Desire is a lost art, want is a lost need... to fast we speed
and loose the charm and fervor of lust... for want is the seed of love,
and seeds need time to grow.

Gord Merritt