My Poem “Alexa”

In this day and age,
we all have access
to knowledge and information
like never before…
at this point in time,
and at any time of the day or the night,
everybody can reach out,
touch, tap, and use their voices
to acquire the gift of a response,
the answer to a question,
the thrill of discovery and understanding…
doors that were once closed are opening,
access is finally being granted by the insightful
to those who always found it hard
being that kid at the back of the class
in school who was afraid
to raise their hand for fear of being
ridiculed for asking a “dumb question”.

Questions are important –
most of the time, in my opinion,
questions are more important than answers…
Questions, inquiries, wanderings,
looking, listening, and asking
why such a thing is the way that it is
and where something or someone came from
are the steps that need to be taken
by everyone with a curious mind
in order to stimulate and rejuvenate
wonder into their lives.

Our access to knowledge, images,
and multiple ways of communication
has never been so accessible:
we carry both the keys, the doorways,
the portals, and the windows
to the worlds within worlds
that interconnect the majority
of human life on this planet
in the form of mobile
receivers and transmitters
which we carry around with us
and we can interact with,
share a conversation with,
and inquire to,
which have become our guides
to a wealth of information,
inspiration, art, music, places,
and which have become
the artificial intelligences
that we use on a daily basis
to assist us in bringing order to our lives,
which we can even call to attention
by uttering a single word to awaken them –
such as “Siri”, “Google”,
“Cortana”, or “Alexa”.

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My Poem “Artistic Heroes”

I am definitely no John Lennon,
Johnny Cash, David Bowie, Bob Dylan,
Michelangelo, or Vincent van Gogh –
however, they are some of the poets
of music, words, colours,
prolific and deep expression
who are among the members
of some of my artistic heroes.

I am no Shakespeare,
Stephen King, or Neil Gaiman –
however, I am also an author
and a writer who wants to
inspire, to enlighten, to entertain,
and to take the readers of my poetry,
my stories, and the characters
who I have written about
and described, on a journey
that they will never forget
which is unquestionably
a pure creation of my own
varied and constantly
curious wandering imagination.

I am no Albert Einstein,
Stephen Hawking, or Elon Musk –
however, I too think about things
and I wonder why things are the way
that they are and if there are
answers to the questions
that many people daily ask,
like: What is the true nature of life?
Is time-travel possible?
Who or what created
the universe, and why?
Will people one day be living,
breathing, existing, and communicating
every day of their life solely
within the illusion of a simulation?

At my heart, I am a dreamer…
at my best, I am an optimist…
at my most inspired,
I am a man without regret,
without reservation,
without any kind of fear of the unknown,
nor without any worry that
I will one day lose my life-long
obsession with discovering
as much knowledge and inspiration
from the depths and the frontiers
of this limitless universe as I possibly can –
and one day I hope that I will get to meet
all of my artistic heroes in one place
and swop stories with them
about the road that they all took
to get them from where their story began
to the place where they were inspiring
the dreams of many and colouring
the consciousness of the world’s
imagination.

“Imagination is more important than knowledge.”
– Albert Einstein

My Poem “Answers for Everything”

Getting back into
the swing of anything
is always hard, it’s always slow,
it’s always a work in progress,
especially in the beginning…
move to a new place,
filled with new people
who you do not yet know,
is always daunting…
getting used to a new way of doing things –
even when it involves a job
or an activity that you already know –
it can take you a while to get up to speed…
any time spent away from something
is time that you can’t make up for –
however, what you can choose to do
is to put your attention, your drive,
and your determination into learning
and perhaps re-learning something
that over time becomes second-nature,
releasing that intuitive gift
that has always been inside of you,
that has always been a part of you,
and letting your internal nature
and your internal voice speak…
I truly believe that some people
are meant to be who they are…
I truly believe that some people
are born with a particular destiny
and a path in life to follow
with particular things
that they are fated to achieve…
I truly believe that some people
are meant to be doctors, nurses, carers,
parents, artists, writers, fighters,
scientists, cafe owners, builders,
sculptures, truck drivers, cashiers,
messengers, movie theatre attendants –
because by doing what they do,
and while doing what they do,
they make a profound and fundamental
difference to the world that only they can…
I have always believed, ever since I was a child,
that I had a purpose, a meaning, a reason to be alive,
and to be someone and something
more than somebody with the depth to them
than that of a character from a dream…
I have always known, and I have always kept in my mind,
the fact of life that nobody in this world
is ever truly alone and that everybody
has a calling that fits perfectly into and with
whatever makes the universe what it is
and whatever the fundamental forces are
that govern the framework and the plan of existence
that was set into motion at the instant
of the universal big bang
and the answers to everything.

My Poem ‘The Shroud of Destiny’

The shroud of destiny…
the mysterious cloak of fate…
the lasting spirit that will walk
the Earth one day with the last of humanity…
the drape of infinity as dark
as the matter that veils
the wonders of outer-space…
the personification of all life
that can be seen waiting and contemplating
before a single wick of candlelight…
the one who knows the ultimate fate of the living
and where people go when they die…
they who have no face,
but who still have a form…
they who beckon from the end of days,
and who silently warn…
I have seen them…
I have stood and looked at them,
and I have been mesmerized by them…
I have wondered what they were thinking,
and what they would say to me if they could…
they who do not move when they are in contemplation –
and yet being in their presence
and seeing the darkness that covers them is enough
to bring out so many emotions and questions…
Destiny knows me… Destiny knows us all…
Destiny knows the days gone by, and the days yet to be…
Destiny knows so much, and Destiny says so much –
without even having to say a word…
you would think that staring into Destiny
would be a frightening thing for anyone to do,
but I personally believe that Destiny
is a silent teacher with so much to teach…
Destiny too has a destiny,
and until the day comes when they see themselves
in the mirror of time
I do not think they will ever speak…
as soon as I saw Destiny for the first time
I was inspired to write about them
in the voice of my gift: poetry –
and there they will stay
and walk the spaces between my words,
and so they will shadow my footsteps,
until the day when I turn around
and I accept and I wear
the shroud of my destiny.

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“Destiny is always in the dark.”

My Poem ‘God’s work’

God works in mysterious ways…
with light came life
at the beginning of the universe…
to god seven billion years
could be the same as seven of our solar days…
life is precious…
god’s creations are now more distant
than they were at the beginning of everything…
everybody on Earth has a role to play
in the grand design that god set forth
before the universe exploded into existence
with the biggest of bangs…
like everything in life
no thing is any-thing without trust…
we may not realize it,
but everything happens for a reason:
accidents happen, mistakes are made –
however, every-thing and everyone
is bound to a master-plan
too unfathomable to anyone but it’s architect;
the universe is complex –
but what else would you expect
from an idea such as the universe,
literally the most divine garden
of limitless, beautiful, and varied
example of life ever imagined:
what gift, what blessing,
what answer hidden in plain-sight
within a question being asked
could be more perfect?

Two worlds are never the same;
two lives, though seemingly-close,
always live on either-side of a divide;
the two eyes of someone’s face
is like the light of the stars
that we see sparkling from afar
in the vast darkness of space;
the two ears, the two lungs,
the two arms, the two hands,
the two legs, the two feet that many,
however not all, are born with –
the signature physical characteristics
of the human body remind us all
that we are still all of one world,
one Earth, and one of a kind.

We all come to a belief in something
from different directions;
for some, the path to the truth of what life is
can be short, it can be long, it can be easy,
and sometimes it can be incredibly hard;
there are people who believe
in many things in this life –
and when they say that they believe in something,
or someone, I know and I believe
that they are telling the truth with every word;
we all come face-to-face with things in our lives
that we can’t understand –
sometimes the journey to find the answers you seek
cannot simply be reached by driving somewhere in a car;
the human heart, the human soul, the human consciousness,
the human dreams, are all keys to the door
that lead to the gates of heaven –
and I believe that each and every one of us,
no matter how big or how small we believe we are
in the cosmic jig-saw of life
can make no mistake in believing
that we are all doing god’s work.

My Poem ‘The Good Listener’

I don’t know what it is about me…
Maybe it’s my face?
Maybe it’s my voice?
Maybe it’s my eyes?
Maybe it is my unimposing-demeanor, perhaps,
that draws people to me one-after-another,
like a firefly to candle-light?
I don’t know what it is,
but, for some reason, people believe
that with me and to me
they can allow whatever is on the tip of their tongue
and whatever is on their mind to be said and be set free.

I have lost count of the number of strangers,
who seemingly from out of nowhere,
have introduced themselves to me,
and have almost told me their entire life-story;
I have been sitting on a plane,
I have been sitting alone at a table in a cafe,
when more than one person has turned to me
and has told me their name –
and, not long after,
we have had a brief-but-meaningful conversation
that may have been the highlight of their day.

Questions… secrets…
questions like: what, to you, is the meaning of life?
secrets, like: how do I go home and be a real father
to my kids, and also be a true husband to my wife?

And in what form do I respond? And what is my response?
I listen. I let whomever it is who is talking to me be heard
and say aloud to me what they have not had the courage
to disclose and confess to anyone, before me, not once.

Just as I have always been a good reader of books,
I have always been a good reader of people, as well;
just as a book-cover captures and teases the inside of a book,
so does what a person wears and says out-loud
when they think that nobody is looking at them
and nobody is listening to them says a lot about someone –
not everything, of course, but there is still so much
from observing someone that you can tell.

A person’s consciousness has a lock to it,
just as every door has;
it is amazing the depths
and the number of levels that a person’s mind has;
everybody loves communicating what they are thinking
and how they are feeling, more so than they may know;
I have always said that anyone can be a writer –
in my opinion, to be a writer all you need to do
is open your heart, speak from your soul –
and the best way is to speak and to write
what you have been through, and what you know,
and watch the thoughts, the ideas,
and the words just flow.

They say that confession is good for the soul;
they say that when you fall in a hole
the best thing that can happen to you
is for someone to come along
who has been in the exact same position
and the exact same hole before
and who chooses to jump in the hole
you are in with you
because they know the way out;
I believe that sometimes
you have to lose something that you don’t need
to make yourself feel whole again;
I believe and I know that everyone in this life
deserves to be heard –
even those who do not exclusively
communicate with their mouths;
just as the choice to share something
to me shows that a person cares about something,
just as someone who is creative cares deeply about an idea –
I believe that the greatest thing that you can do in a day
is to listen to someone, and the best person you can be
to someone else is to a good listener.

TheGoodListener

My Poem ‘The devil is in the details’

When god smiles, rejoice…
when the devil smiles, run…
when angels save a life,
sing with all your voice…
when demons possess someone,
the only weapon against them
is to pray and summon
the light of heaven
to drive them back to hell
from where they are supposed to be
imprisoned, and fight the fear
of an endless night with hope
like that of sunlight.

When we think of hell
we think of flames…
when we think of heaven
we think of unwavering faith…
when we think of the devil
we think of evil…
when we think of god
we think of love.

Day and night, light and dark, good and bad –
an entire universe in-balance with itself,
that occasionally becomes imbalanced, by design;
just as every story has two sides to it,
what every story also has is a middle-ground –
a ‘grey state’ that exists
between every word of every line;
everything and everyone has a purpose –
some people have to dance with the devil
in order to get through life;
everything and everyone sometimes has to fight,
but you can rest assured that whenever you need one
there will always be an angel
in your corner and by your side.

When a single beam of light
passes through a seemingly-transparent prism of glass,
that single flash transforms
into a spectrum of many colours –
the same layers of reality
that the entire world is made up of,
from the most super-giant of stars
to the smallest particles of ash –
and when you see that rainbow
you are seeing the pigment
of everything and everyone
in the universe’s skin and eye-colour.

Questions beg for answers –
however, even fallen angels know
that some things are sometimes best left unsaid;
there would be no life
if there were not also temptation –
however, everybody has to learn a lesson
about the true meaning of life,
though some lessons
you can only learn the meaning of
before you rise and leave your body behind
to lie in peace in its last bed.

Light began everything…
darkness will always exist –
it must according to divine will…
finding an equilibrium with all things
and with all people is all about living…
just as god is in the details of everything,
so is the devil.

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