My poem ‘The Drummer’

It was all he heard…
it was all he felt…
it was all he wanted to do…
every morning, every night,
the drummer felt a longing,
and the beat was the only cure…
over and over again,
the drummer played the rhythm
of his favourite beat in his mind,
with the fingers of his hands,
and every time that he tapped his feet…
it was as if it was his own heart beating…
it was as if it was his own pulse racing…
it was the most epic sound
he had ever heard in his life,
since he was a baby
and he used to look out his bedroom window
and listen to the thundering sound
of the pita-patter on the window-pane
when it was raining…
it was more powerful
than any kind of hunger or craving…
to Mark, the music was like the heart-beat of God…
to Mark, the music that came from his soul
was something that was transcendental…
to Mark, the music was what kept him
from becoming among humanities lost…
to Mark, the music he heard was what he loved…
and to him it was beautiful.

Becoming a member of a marching-band
had been a dream of Mark’s since he was a child –
Mark had everything that any band
would ever want, or ever need: Mark loved music,
and he loved his favourite instrument…
even as a child Mark would turn his parents’
pots and pans into home-made drums,
and he used to play them,
and his parents let him be free
and express himself, and go wild –
and if anybody came around to visit
Mark and his parents
they would see and hear
Mark playing the most phenomenal of beats,
and every day of his life
music, especially his music,
has become more and more important.

Mark tried-out to be in his high-school band…
Mark had dreams of one day playing
in the marching-band of his favourite
college football team…
Mark played and practiced every minute
he was awake or asleep,
and he knew that it he just played
with all his heart
that everything in his life
would happen as he always dreamed it would,
as if it were all a part of a plan –
however, all Mark could play,
all Mark wanted to play,
all Mark loved to play
was the beat that he heard within…
and when his moment came
to show just how incredible a player
and a drummer he was Mark froze…
and then he did what he always did –
he played the music that he knew and loved.

Mark never made it into the marching-band…
Mark was disappointed to not be able to play
and march in front of his favourite football team –
but he wasn’t sad…
to lift his spirits, Mark’s parents ordered him
a band-uniform all of his own and they told him to
“never stop playing” the music that made him
the most happy and the music he had always known…
Mark’s parents told him to go out in his uniform,
with his drum, and “fill the world” with his music
that to them was like no other –
and that is exactly what Mark did:
he went out…
he walked down the main street
of his home town’s most busiest road…
he stopped people and traffic
to a stand-still everywhere he went…
and as he played he knew
that because of his music
he would always be remembered
as the boy, and later the man,
who would always be known as
“The Drummer”.

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My Poem ‘For the record’

Like the Earth orbiting the sun;
like the solar system
spinning around the core of the galaxy;
like the sounds that can be heard
while listening to the noise
of the interstellar background;
like the racing heart beat
of somebody out on a run;
like the natural soundtrack of life
that you can hear and feel
which you can imagine with great detail
without needing to see it;
like the sound of waves crashing on a beach;
when you listen to the music
that sings to your soul
and inhabits your heart
that has been recorded
in the most exquisite quality possible –
in memory, on CD, on vinyl,
the spirit of the music, the artist,
the magic and the depth of the human mind
and body gives you back every time
something you wait with anticipation
to be found so that it may
again and again resound
and make you feel as if
your feet have left the ground.

People love music;
music is so adored and worshiped
it is like a religion;
music can inspire people to be
and to do anything:
to be brave, to be thoughtful,
to be artistic, to be prolific;
everyone knows what their favourite song
or piece of music is,
and everybody has a personal
and a profound reason for why
their song is their song.

Music has been a part of our lives
since we were born;
albums and artists have been talking to us
and taking us to our dreams
since we heard our first old-favourite;
music is at the centre of our universe
that rotates just as fast
as the grooves of a vinyl album on a turntable;
listening to music is always a blessing,
and never a chore;
there is so much music that has been created
that is epic and great;
music is a gateway to an astoundingly-beautiful
and magical world.

Music is the eternal and universal love
that everybody and anybody can enjoy
and be blessed with their entire lives;
music is what we all share
an invisible connection to
and are attached to every second
by an unbreakable umbilical-cord;
music is the abundant source of energy
that makes life what it is,
just as much as the sun’s light;
music is the single most important,
meaningful and memorable thing
that the human race will be remembered for
by future generations and fellow space-travelers –
and all we do will live on forever
as our greatest monument of ourselves
for the record.

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My Poem ‘Send in the Poets’

Send in the poets,
instead of firing your bullets;
send in the poets
to raise your spirits;
send in the poets
to inspire hope that you will never forget;
send in the poets
to give you a feeling in your heart that you can’t express;
send in the poets,
and they will take away your fears,
and alleviate you of any distress;
send in the poets,
and you will feel blessed;
send in the poets,
and you will see love coalesced;
send in the poets,
and your heart will beat, spark,
and thunder like a lightning storm in your chest;
send in the poets,
listen to them read a poem,
and feel absolutely refreshed
and like your best;
send in the poets,
and experience a magical moment,
as you watch the sun setting in the West;
send in the poets,
and you will know incredible happiness;
send in the poets,
and you will know nothing but success;
send in the poets,
to know true paradise and bliss;
send in the poets,
and for the first time in your life
you will feel like you can achieve anything,
and take all of life’s hits,
understand all of life’s tricks,
be hypnotized by the moments of an eclipse,
be transfixed, know the reason that you exist,
never again feel adrift,
believe you will possess all that you have ever wished,
emerge like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
Words are sometimes hard to say,
but in those moments when there is so much to say
that needs to be said:
open your heart, open the door,
and let in the wizard of words and the awesome orator;
close your eyes, and ask the universe
to send in the poets.