My Poem ‘My Space’

Some people find it hard to find their place;
some people thrive and are their most happy
when they are in their own space;
some people need total quiet to concentrate
and to work efficiently;
some people can work anywhere,
no matter the noise they are surrounded by –
some writers and artists like creating
in the sanctuary of their office or studio,
while others can easily write a thousand words
while sitting at a table in the middle of a busy cafe.

Some people feel at home on a beach;
some people feel at their best
when they are with someone somewhere that they can teach;
some people feel alive when they are behind the wheel of car;
some people feel their most comfortable
when they are sitting on their sofa watching films in the dark.

My place, my space, varies from day to day;
my face, my tastes, change as frequently as the weather;
my thoughts, my interests,can seem as if
I am choosing from an inspiration buffet;
when my stories, my worries, are the furthest thing from my mind,
the ease that which I move through the world
can seem as light, and as unbounded,
as that of the flight of a feather.

My life has been shaken up so many times,
I would almost call the answers to the questions
that I pose to myself about life
as insightful and meaningful as that of a Magic 8-ball;
my observations about the world
often feel like I am either celebrating, critiquing,
admonishing, or marveling in wonder
at the state of the human race;
instincts can sometimes feel to me
like I am talking and listening in
on a seven billion person conference call.

My natural way of being, acting,
feeling, breathing, seeing, thinking,
and the place where I find the deepest of meaning
and inspiration, is when I know that I have arrived
where I always know that this is my base,
and the infinite frontier that is my space.

My Poem ‘Fortune Cookie’

It is amazing how motivating a single word can be;
it is phenomenal seeing how powerful a message can resonate;
it is a thing of beauty to see someone reciprocating
the meaning of a single line of poetry;
it is unbelievable how much love a single poem can create.

People are like an onion of infinite layers;
life is like a game with an infinite number of players;
people have a sometimes untapped infinite capacity for adaptability;
life is a balance of bliss and tragedy.

We are all fascinated by the future
and about what has not yet happened;
we are all hopeful that life will work out the way we want it to;
we are all an influence on a friend;
we are all in need of something or someone
to hint, guide, help, and give us a realization about something
that we might want to do.

It would be helpful to have a crystal ball
to gaze into every morning to see what the day has in store;
it would be brilliant if you could tune in to a channel
on your television or radio, and replay everything you saw,
said, and heard, from the day before;
it would be a dream come true to read your future in a newspaper,
and see all the things that you have to look forward to;
it would be god-like and something omniscient
to be able to look into someone’s eyes, and read their mind,
and know instantly what someone is thinking about you.

I believe that there are subtle, sometimes blatant,
signs and messages from the universe,
and from the future, flashing right in front of us,
saying: ‘look here’, or ‘this way’;
I believe that when you find your groove and your way
things will fall into place and make sense,
and you will be set for life,
if you are curious, attentive, and lucky;
I believe that something that feels natural can never go away;
I believe that everything is intentional,
and I also believe that you should take notice and think a lot
about what and who speaks to you –
even if that message comes in the form of a fortune
that you find when you break open a fortune cookie.

My Poem ‘The Light Fantastic’

The world is dark at night;
when there are clouds above
everything can seem grey;
within peoples’ heart’s
there is always light;
stars shining constantly
reveal more to life, more to us,
more than the sun of a spring day.

Every day I look far,
and hope appears;
every day I see patterns of stars,
and my imagination jumps light-years;
every day I look for a fire to sit in front of
and gaze longingly at,
and I witness the birth of a new spark;
every day I realize I have something
that some might say: ‘I would give anything for that’,
and for good, or ill, I get a sense
as to how I have lived, how I live, how I make my mark,
how I have given my heart right from the start.

Bridges are built every day;
most of us have the gift of choice;
technology has paved a new way;
everybody is now discovering that they have always had a voice;
people are learning more;
everybody is becoming savvy in multiple ways of interactivity;
people are talking to each other like never before;
we all feel, sometimes, as if we have backstage passes,
when we can see and reach out to people we idolize –
like a well-known artist or celebrity.

We can all literally find ourselves
with stars in our eyes anytime we want;
we can all take a trip to anywhere;
we can all feel triumphant
when we see the fruits of our commitment,
we can all go to the places where angels and demons
no longer fear to tread;
we can all make dreams real and tangible;
we can all be romantic, pragmatic,
dynamic, classic, terrific, or act wonderfully melodramatic;
we can all be radical, casual, natural, fanciful;
we can all be the one who searches for, lives for,
has, and is, what makes the light of life fantastic.

My Poem ‘Mixtape’

Your life is a mixtape;
what you hear from day to day
is mostly familiar, but not the same;
people become important to you,
things are necessary to you,
and like songs that you have brought together,
and have connected and made a part of you,
they are always on continuous-play
inside you and around you,
as a matter of fate and not by mistake.

People often ask why a particular song
is among your favourite songs,
and why you regularly play it over and over –
but, most of the time, at least for me,
the reason why I love a song so much,
is because the words and the music get inside me,
move me, make me smile, make me cry,
and are a reflection of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions,
that in relation to what I am thinking about
at a given moment lie far deeper.

I have been making and remaking,
recording and rerecording mixtapes since I was a kid.
Mixtapes are fun to make, because they can be made up of anything.
Having a wide and eclectic taste in songs, music,
artists, singers, and bands,
means having a mixtape that is better,
more magic, more engrossing, and more epic;
having many differing, special, varied,
voices, lyrics, sounds, and instruments, to listen to,
and fill your ears, your mind, your consciousness,
is like going on a journey every time
to a different time, to a different place,
to a different state of being,
that can be emotional, exciting, breathtaking, and amazing.

Pressing play on a playlist,
and listening whether in order or randomly to songs you know,
expect to find, anticipate, look forward to,
and some you may have forgotten about,
is like putting you own ear to your chest
and hearing your heart beating,
and every time reliving something you have always felt.

For some of us, that one collection of songs
is the only way we can get through
what we have to go though on any given day;
for some of us, we could not live without our favourite songs
that we constantly replay from our own mixtape.

My Poem ‘The Dissimulation of Birds’

Have you ever walked past a hedge,
or a bush, a nest, or a tree,
and heard the tweets, the chirping,
the calls, the teachering of birds
being all that you can hear;
have you ever had a bird come up close to you,
and not for a second show and signs
of agitation, or fear;
have you ever seen a murmuration of starlings at dusk,
and been awestruck by the immense number, speed,
and constantly changing shapes it makes;
have you ever come face to beak
with a raven from the Tower of London,
and been so astonished by it and its interest in you
that you can’t and don’t want to look away.

The life of birds happens right along-side
the life of everything else on Earth,
independently, but occasionally overlaps;
the life of birds, the society of birds,
is self-sustaining, and it is an existence
that is at-one with nature and the seasons of Earth;
the life of birds requires impeccable memory,
instincts, and spatial orientation,
and a geographical blue-print in the form
of an incredible, second to none, internal map;
the life of birds is knowing
not just the distinct language of your own species
and recognizing it at a moments call,
but also knowing the voice of another class of bird,
and their potential intentions from a single chirp.

At dawn is when you will hear,
but not necessarily see, the majority of songbirds
that sing in chorus with one-another,
to make the most of the magical and beautiful sounds –
hearing the natural and amazing voice and melody,
while seeing the spectacular phenomena of a sunrise,
is a divine and wonderful experience that always astounds.

Different birds have different nests,
and every birds learns in time how to build a home
and a bed for themselves and for their mate and offspring;
different birds live different lives –
some regularly migrate to different
and recurring places and countries,
some stay the whole time in the country they first fledged,
and return to the same nests where they hatched, time after time.

Birds, as a collective species,
are one of the most intelligent and highly-evolved
forms of life on our planet;
birds have so many gifts to be envied –
I have always been fascinated by their freedom to go anywhere
with the miracle that they have of instantaneous flight;
I am convinced that birds convey more between themselves
than anybody in any language of humanity could ever convey in words.
If you ever want to see an incredible and beautiful thing
that speaks to our own need for independence
and interdependence you will see, hear, feel,
experience something special in a flock, a murder, a cloud,
a flight, a convocation, a charm, a congregation,
a watch, a dissimulation of birds.

My Poem ‘The Shard of Hope’

London called, and I replied;
London is like a beautiful city from another world,
and the whole time I am there
I feel like I am on a magical ride.

I have always been drawn to inspiring places –
that is why I love going to cities,
because they are filled with so much energy, life,
and a myriad of interesting, fascinating,
fascinated, voices and faces.

London is something else, though,
and like another unbelievable city, New York City,
London is a hive of intense and magnetic activity.

Riding the Underground,
feeling the beating vibe,
while walking and traveling overground –
whether on the tube,
or going from place to place on the city streets –
London takes you and shows you things
you have been imagining and have seen in your mind
in all there grand and epic scales,
and around every corner, or on the skyline,
there is a constant gallery of treats.

Standing outside the gates of Buckingham Palace;
being next to the Houses of Parliament
when Big Ben struck two;
bowing my head while facing the Poppy-wreath flooded Cenotaph,
and remembering the fallen in silence,
as countless people walk past;
crossing Tower Bridge, and marveling at everything about it –
from the sandy colour of it’s castle-like towers,
to its suspensions of white and blue.

The biggest thrill,
and the sudden appearance that wowed me and struck me the most,
was the towering and phenomenal sight of The Shard
shooting up to the sky,
as I was standing outside the London Bridge tube station –
I truly could not believe my eyes;
when I saw it, and every time I could,
I took a chance to look at it,
and be completely lost in instances of fixation,
adoration, and gravitation.

When I reached the Tower of London,
and when I walked around its high walls,
and finally reached the place where the final pieces
of a memorial of red ceramic poppies remained to be seen
and marveled at,
I felt that I had reached the end
of my amazing London journey of discovery;
however, I also knew in my heart that that wasn’t just that.

I came to a realization, as I was looking at the sun setting
behind the city skyscrapers on the other side of the River Thames;
and as I looked at the majestic Shard against the blue and golden sky,
I knew that this time was both a beginning and end:
I realized that London, Great Britain, my home,
was, is, has been, will always be,
one of the most beautiful, gleaming, and timeless, jewels of Earth,
and one of the most important beacons of acceptance
and greatness on the globe;
I realized that London, and our world itself,
is a constant spark in the dark of the universe,
and a powerful shard of hope.

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My Poem ‘The Traveler’

Rising with the sun
to feel the cold morning air;
opening wide
to see the clear brand new day;
traveling like a bullet
on a train without a care,
I want to go everywhere and see everything,
and nothing can stop me or get in my way.

I have always been a traveler;
I have always been on the move;
I have always loved traveling far –
overground, underground,
or almost touching the atmosphere;
I have always rode the roller coaster of youth.

The unknown has never scared me;
outer-space has always been a draw;
where I have never been before
is where I have written my most meaningful poetry;
seeing as much of our beautiful Earth as I can
and being inspired by life is my call.

Every day is a new day;
every life is beautiful in its own way;
every time I embark on a new adventure,
I want all my senses to rocket away;
every moment that eclipses everything from before
are the moments that matter the most,
and it is within those moments that you always want to stay.

Traveling is in my blood;
pilgrimages are a daily ritual that I always entertain and enjoy;
seeing something new, and wanting to go that one step beyond,
is something I would do for a living, if I could;
methods of transportation take me to places
where my dreams can become reality.
Like a man transitioning from a boy,
and an airplane flight growing out of a life-long fascination
with flying toys.

Giving someone, especially a child,
a compass, a path, a hunger, an enthusiasm,
to get out there and to see what is out there,
is something that they will never forget,
and will always compel and never deter.
There is always a reason to be a risk taker, an adventurer –
because everyone can be a traveler.

My Poem ‘A World of Difference’

Today I gave money to a homeless person;
today I gave a smile to someone
who really looked like they needed it;
today I offered to help someone;
today I bought a gift for someone, and it felt good;
today I thought about a friend,
and I silently gave them my love;
today I wrote a poem;
today I hoped that one day no one
would ever have to want for anything,
and that we all would honestly be able to say
that we have enough;
today I marveled at the spirit of generosity
that I felt in the air;
today I watched the sunrise,
and I am about to watch the sunset;
today I had a conversation with a random stranger
in a music store about vinyl albums,
and about how music sounds better
when it is played on a record player;
today I am thankful for what I have,
and not for what I don’t have –
because it is important to remember
sometimes that we are one person,
of one life, on one planet,
and one act of thanks and gratitude
can make a world of difference.

My Poem ‘Lucky to be here’

Miracles are real.
Survivors are meant to survive.
Some people are strong enough
to withstand the grumbling of a world
without a scratch to feel.

Accidents happen every day in which someone dies;
however, when the same kind of accident reoccurs,
to someone else, they may unbelievably walk away without a scar,
and are able to tell others the tale
of how lucky they are to be alive.

The world can be a dangerous place,
there is no more chaotic and destructive force on Earth
than the Human race;
no one knows why or how long ago
the first domino of serendipity fell,
but the bones, cards, tiles, tickets, and stones,
that connect everything to everything,
still continue to fall,
and who will win at the end of existence’s game
no one can tell.

The reason our solar system formed and emerged
from the gaseous, rocky, and chaotic, cloud,
that orbited around our sun when it was yellow and young,
was not by chance;
the reason that Earth bloomed and became the flower of the planets,
and even gave birth to its own offspring, the moon,
is because the universe itself is in the middle
of a very fast, beautiful, and energetic, dance.

The reason human beings emerged from the ocean,
evolved, multiplied substantially,
and spread themselves around the world,
was because they had to diversify, learn, think, discover, dream,
and want to explore everywhere in order to discover
their defining nature and destiny,
and one day look and travel to the stars above
in order to forge a new link with their celestial cousins;
the reason why we are still here,
the reason why I am writing this,
and the reason you are reading this,
is because it was meant to happen –
and even now, from our actions and choices,
there will be repercussions.

I look up at the duck egg coloured blue sky sometimes,
and I think to myself ‘I have never seen anything more amazing’;
I look out at a sunset at the end of a day,
and I think, sometimes out-loud,
that I have never seen anything more breathtaking and beautiful,
and a sight that is truly worthy of a tear;
I look around at the people in my life,
and I see what connect me and keeps me alive
to enjoy the wonders of everything;
I look at myself, from time to time,
and I remember, as I look into my own eyes,
that I and countless people all around
are here for a reason –
because each of us is incredibly blessed and lucky to be here.

My Poem ‘Warmth’

This time of the year
you feel glad for what you have;
this time of the year
the little things mean the most;
this time of the year
some people feel happy,
and some people feel sad;
this time of the year,
for just being still here,
you should pick up a cup or a glass
and make a silent toast.

This time of the year
everyone thinks more;
this time of the year
everyone does more;
this time of the year
some people ask for less,
but give more;
this time of the year
we all need to wrap up more.

This time of the year
you can see smoke rising from country-cottage chimney’s,
and smell burning fires;
this time of the year, in some countries,
they augment their cars with winter tires;
this time of the year
it is wet, cold, and in some places in the world
they are already covered in winter snow;
this time of the year
everyone needs to have conviction and patience wherever they go.

This time of the year
we become more insulated;
this time of the year
we are infinitely more creative;
this time of the year
we write, message people,
and remember family and friends spontaneously;
this time of the year,
if sharing is your favourite art,
then you can give as much as you can shamelessly.

This time of the year
is to each of us what life to us is all about;
this time of the year
is when the days spiral away from us
and seem as if they are a few hours short;
this time of the year
is about realizing life’s wealth;
this time of the year
is about feeling, and giving someone something
to keep them going, hopeful, and warm.