My book “The Rambler” is Out Now!
My New Book “The Rambler” is OUT NOW!
My new book “The Rambler” is OUT NOW on Amazon!
This new book is filled with some of the poems, the tales, the thoughts, and the dreams that I have written and been inspired by while experiencing and while enjoying the wonders of the great outdoors, nature, and while rambling with my feet though some of the most beautiful and inspiring landscapes on Earth.
I love walking, and I love writing poetry – and my new book The Rambler is a celebration of both! Walking and poetry it turns out is in my blood and both pursuits have apparently been shared by many of my family for generations – and my new book is also my tribute to one of the most amazing ways there are of commuting and seeing this beautiful planet that we are all gifted to live upon.
I have always been inspired by nature and nature has been the source and the subject of many of the poems that I have written – and my new collection of poetry, The Rambler, is also a journal of where I have walked, where I have been, what I have done, what I have seen, and what drives me to continue to do what I do.
If you have read any of the poems that I have written and published here on MarkThePoet.Me, and if you choose to buy a copy of my new book, then you will no doubt find several poems that I have published online over the last 4 years since my last poetry collection. From the outset I wanted my new book to be solely about poetry – since over the past few years I have chosen to write and to publish stories of fiction – because poetry is where my journey as a writer began all those years ago, and poetry will always be what I will always return to no matter what.
I hope you are able to get yourself a copy of my new book, The Rambler, and while reading it you find yourself immersing yourself and figuratively following in the same footsteps which I made which inspired every word of every line of every poem that is included within.
Happy Reading! 😊
-Mark
My Poem “Impressionable”
Since I was a child
I have always been impressionable…
since I was a boy
I have been profoundly impacted
by many sources of entertainment
that subconsciously
left their mark upon me…
since I first started to be drawn
to the images of screens, the words of books,
and the ultrasonic magnificence of music
I have been changed little by little…
since I first began going on journeys
with fictional characters who
inhabited many different worlds
and who lived many different lives
I have been led to believe and to imagine
that what I was shown or gifted
the vision of was a real and true
possibility in some distant
and distinctive alternate reality.
In retrospect, I believe that my childhood
was and still is a treasure trove
and a goldmine of inspiring stories,
visuals, music, and feelings
that over time I saved within my memory
until the day when I would need
a boost of inspirational energy
to help fuel the poetry and the stories
that I would ultimately come to tell…
I truly believe that had I not grown up
how, when, where, and with whom
I grew up with my life would
have turned out very differently
and I would not have been able
to get through some of the things
in my life that led to me to learning from
all the lessons that I now know so well.
There were books that I read,
there were songs that I listened to,
there were TV shows and movies
that I watched over and over again as a child
that I loved and I thought I knew
everything about and every moment of
that when I rewatch and when I replay
them now I realise they were full
of many subtle, but amazing,
details and messages that have
a different, but still just as incredible,
effect upon me that reminds me
why it is sometimes important to return
to something or to somewhere that you
think you know like the back of your hand –
because everyone and everywhere
has more layers and levels of meaning
to reveal about themselves,
especially to those of us who have this
insatiable curiosity about so many things,
who are at their heart someone
who is and who always has been
unashamedly impressionable.
My Poem “A Murder of Crows”
Every morning when I look outside
my bedroom window I see a Murder –
however the “Murder” that I speak of
is nothing to be concerned over,
because what I see is merely
an assemblance of crows
all gathered together,
all cawing to one another –
which occurs like clockwork every morning
and all throughout the day,
and it is to the caws of crows
that I have heard and awoken to for years;
because for some reason
where I live is like Crow central for
a large number of nests in tall trees
that are home to the jet-black,
majestic, mysterious, captivating,
soaring, distinctive, supernatural
spirits of the sky who are considered
to be among the most intelligent
of all the birds of the world,
who are capable of doing things
that no other bird would even
think of doing, and who definitely
like to be heard whenever there is
a gathering of them, that is as if
they acting out a scene from a play
for all to hear that is called:
“A Murder of Crows”.
My Poem “B.T.W.”
Going back to doing something –
even something that you used to
be able to do as if in your sleep –
is not always easy, especially after
a considerable amount of time has passed…
even resuming doing something
that you used to consider routine
can take a while to click
back into place and does not
automatically return to your memory without difficultly, nor fast…
after you have spent some time
out of a particular loop
you can sometimes make mistakes
as you try to slip back into
performing and repeating a cycle
just as if you were attempting
to put on an old pair of shoes…
putting on clothes that you know
you only wear when and where
you are clocking in to return to work
does help someone in finding the right
mind-set to go where they need to go
so that they can once again do
what they need to do…
when you see businesses closing,
when you see people struggling,
when you see a world in chaos
then you appreciate the fact
that you still have what you have,
you still have who you have,
and you can still do some of the things
that give a person a sense of identity
and routine in some way –
and though most people often gripe
about their job while they are doing it,
when people think back on a time
when they did not have something
to wake up for and somewhere to go to
then they begin to count their blessings
and thank God for still having a job
to do each and every day.
“The Rambler” has arrived!
IT’S HERE!!! My copies of my new book “The Rambler” have arrived!!! My new book is filled with poems that chronicle the walks that I have taken, the inspiration that I have been gifted, and the profound beauty of nature that I have witnessed as I have rambled down the many paths, as I have rambled over the many green fields, and as I have rambled through the many wonderful woodlands that we are blessed with on our planet and which I am lucky enough to have been brought up near and which I live near to still! I hope everybody picks up a copy, reads my poems, and enjoys my poetry as much as I enjoyed writing my poems! Let me know if you want a signed copy and I will get one to you! 😊😎🚶♂️🏞🌍
-Mark
My Poem “Decennium”
Time goes by so fast…
life goes by like a flash…
one minute you are
starting down upon a path
and the next thing you know
an entire decade of years has passed –
and when you look back
you see now what you could not see
back then all the things that would
not work out, as well as all the things
that would grow beyond
your ability to truly grasp.
It’s been ten years since
I declared loud and clear
that I was a Poet and that
I was going to write from the heart
and let my poetic gift
dictate where I would go
and what I would write…
ten years since people from far
and wide started to read what I wrote
and began to tell me that I should
collect what I had written together
and publish all my hopes, all my dreams,
and all my feelings within a book
that could be held, read,
and which could be a source
of inspiration for people seeking out
a literary ray of light.
Over the last ten years
I have written hundreds of poems,
I have written and I have compiled
ten books of poetry and stories
that were creations of my own
imagination, as well as inquiries
into the heart, the mind, and the soul
of humanity through multi-layered
characters, supernatural tales,
and of course through poems
that were often both questions
and answers that spontaneously
came to me when I began
every verse of my poetry.
Over the last ten years
I can honestly say that I have
learned so much about the world,
about people, about myself,
about writing, about publishing,
and if I knew ten years ago
what I know now then I would hope
that I would not change too much
about what I wrote and why –
even the many mistakes that I have made –
because if I had not done what I did
then I would not have learned
why some things matter
and why some things do not,
and why some things are a matter of
being there at the right place
and why some things are a matter of
being where you are at the right time
to sit down, to open up, to write,
and to leave your mark in some way.
My Poem “My God Father”
Forget Zeus, forget Odin –
because no other father in history,
nor within the pages of mythology,
could ever compare to my father
because my Dad will always be
one of the most inspiring, influential,
and important forces over me,
because all his life my Dad has given
the gift of his presence and he has
been there in so many ways for me
and for our entire family.
My Dad has worked all his life,
he has given back,
and he has helped others
through so many selfless acts
that embody who my Dad is,
what my Dad stands for,
where my Dad comes from,
and what has always been
important to my Dad:
his family, his friends, his humility,
his enduring spirit, and his strength
of character that is incomparable
and which is the reason why no one
ever forgets my Dad nor
all the amazing things that he
has done throughout his life.
My Dad is a hero – just ask anybody
who knows him and his name…
my Dad has been through so much –
but never do you ever hear him complain…
my Dad is the personification
and the example of the person
who you would hope and pray
to arrive – with his distinctive
blue eyes and his magnetic smile –
to save the day while using
all the power at their disposal
to bring about a miracle –
and that is why when I look at my Dad
I never see just a man,
because when I look at my Dad
I always see my father: the God.
My Poem “The Goldfish Bowl”
Rumblings of activity, bangs of sound,
streaks of lightning flash
intense white light across the sky,
as all that can be seen above are dark clouds
as the rain pours down all night –
and it goes without saying that
the forces of nature are culminating
to put on quite a show.
The air inside is warm…
the electricity flickers…
every moment is devoid of calm…
outside my home I hear
the howl of the wind as well
at the crash and the crack of explosive
impacts reaching Earth in the distance.
For many days, the sun shined,
the air was dry, the ground was parched,
the leaves of the trees and the fields
emanated a hypnotic green glow –
however now it is raining,
but if we are to accept the gift
of beauty then we must also
accept that there are times when
nature takes the wheel and tells
us all what we can do
and where we can go.
There are always things
that build up over time
and there are always things that
take our breath away because we know
that what they are made up of
are among some of the many things
that we mere mortals unfortunately cannot control…
people sometimes like to watch things
that they would never want to be
at the centre of but for some reason
they cannot draw their attention away
from
because they are following the
uncontrollable and the irresistible
instinct within them of being
like a goldfish in a fish-bowl
and just staring out at a spherical
wide world that they enjoy just watching
and just observing without knowing
why or how everything around them works.
