My Poem “Multicolored”

Everybody is an individual,
a person, a spectrum of many colours
throughout their life…
no one can help what body they are born into…
everybody constantly hopes to be able
to one day express themselves
in the way that they want to
without feeling abnormal and as if
who they are on the outside
is not meant to fit in with
how the world is, how it is meant to be,
and how it is meant to look…
no one has the right to be able
to tell anyone that they cannot
be who and what they want to be.

Music is life, life is music –
and people in all their many colours
and with all their individualistic
facets are who make the music of life
as rich as it is, and without all
the many pioneers of individualism
and the proponents of staying true
to what you believe
then the world as we know it would not exist.

The best of humanity, the icons of history
who will be revered forever,
the ground-breakers who knew
even before they learned how to talk
that they were special, different,
anomalous, and exceptional
because they saw the world
and the question posed to them
without the jadedness of a dark cloud
of preconceptions hanging over them –
they are the ones who have always been
responsible for giving our world
the gift of pure inspiration,
ingenuity, and innovation
in the many levels of every day life
that different people live upon.

The best stories ever written
are of extraordinary people
overcoming a stereotypical boundary
that ultimately leads everybody
who learns of their story
to be inspired and choose to emulate them
and follow in their footsteps…
I believe that if you are someone
who is “different” from everybody else
then you should feel proud…
monsters, trolls, and bullies are different
and they are treated differently –
which is why people who suffer
from being singled out
often plague others with the same toxicity
as they are daily exposed to.

In my opinion, if you are different
from everybody else then
you truly are “special”
in every sense of the word –
and I have always believed that
when you embrace you own
individual eccentricities
then you may find that you share
more with other people around the world
who already know who and what they are
and who choose to let the light of their
multicolored soul shine like
the constituents of depth
that give light to a star.

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My Poem “Roses”

Roses are like people,
they come in many different colours…
Roses are delicate…
Roses are strong…
Roses are some peoples’ favourite flower…
some people believe that roses
symbolize perfection
and that the perfume that they breathe out
is what you would breathe in
if you were to take a walk
through a garden in heaven.

To some people roses are
the flower of love…
to some people roses are
what you give to the one you love
on Valentine’s day, on an anniversary,
or at any time of the year
when you want to give someone a gift
that comes from the heart.

Roses symbolize beauty…
Roses embody life…
Roses can mean many things
to many people…
Roses, like people, should never
be underestimated –
and the closer that you get to a rose
the more that you should be aware
of their petals, their strong stems,
and also the thorns that they wear
for protection.

Roses are given, roses are received…
Roses bloom for a short time
and then they return to place
from where once came…
Roses will always mean something
profound to those who know
and understand the meaning of life,
of love, and the perfect dream of who
and what we will someday find
waiting for us all in the multicolored
vistas of heaven above
where roses can be found
lining every street.

My Poem “Pride”

Pride is all around us…
flags of many colours
and symbols of many things
are being displayed proudly wherever I go…
symbols of pride in ones identity
and in ones country are being worn
on the clothing of everybody who feels hope
and optimism deep within their heart…
pride is being sung and can be heard in the air…
pride in a shared passion brings people
from many different walks of life together…
pride is one of the most important things to have,
and it is one of the hardest things to lose…
pride should not need to be explained to anybody,
because Pride is just another word for Love –
and sometimes who and what you love
is not for you to choose…
people feel love with people, with places,
with things, with ideas, with ideals
that draw them to them like a moth to a flame…
people feel deep pride and they live every moment
of something that means the world to them:
whether it be their favourite singer or musician,
their favourite thing to do and experience,
or perhaps every second of the 90 minutes
that make up the two halves of their favourite game…
pride can be shown in many ways…
pride can be felt by those who know
the power of its energy every day…
pride is a person’s internal voice
that should not be silenced…
pride is the growl of courage, the howl of unity,
and the roar of family that you can see,
hear, and feel within a pack of wolves,
or within a group of lions who embody
the importance of staying strong by keeping your pride.

My Poem ‘Mr. Traveler’

Being above the clouds
is like being a part
of something magical;
seeing the blue above
and the light below,
to me will never stop being
a dream come true;
being bound for somewhere
on the other side of an ocean
is something truly wonderful;
seeing the world from up high
to me is breathtaking –
and when I look out into the distance,
and when I look down to the Earth,
a shape, a face, a thought,
a memory comes to me out of the thin air,
and I feel blessed by the touch of the divine,
and I feel drawn to the destination
I will arrive at soon.

We all travel and we all leave a slip-stream;
those who travel by plane know
that the fastest way to travel
is by catching a ride on a jet-stream;
we all know that thrill that we feel
when we go to somewhere we have never been;
those who have chosen to journey
to the other of a rainbow know
that if you choose to take a leap into the unknown
you may see things that no one but you
will ever get the chance to see.

Astronauts rocket to space every day…
passengers travel to countries every hour…
those blessed with vivid imaginations
dive and fly to and through new worlds of creation
every minute in a infinite number of ways…
every second when every heart of ever human being beats
it is like the constant opening and closing
of the petals of the universe’s most beautiful flower.

I have been flying since I was a child;
I have been to magical lands,
and I have always come afterwards
with an further understanding of the allure
of the call of the wild;
since I was a kid I have been dreaming
about being a space-traveler;
I do not travel far that often –
however, whenever I get the chance to defy gravity
by any means I always jump to it
and I always embrace what it means
and I never take for granted how lucky I am
to be a Traveler.

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My Poem ‘The Morning Person’

I wake up even before the sun has risen;
I am thinking about the day ahead,
while others are still dreaming;
I am there to witness a divine sight
every time I open my eyes
and I watch the sunrise,
and I feel with every beat of my heart
as it races that I am here for a reason;
I see hope in the daylight,
and in the blue sky that follows
I see a beautiful purpose
being reflected back like a mirror…
as one half of the world says “goodnight”
and the other says “good morning”.

I reveal my true colours
when I imagine and I am inspired…
I see the universe’s path for me
when something occurs to me
that I had not thought of or considered before…
I wish I could help people see
that each and every one of us
is the beholder of,
as well as in constant orbit of,
a life-giving and life-changing fire…
I wish every-thing and everyone
had the instinct to share
all the gifts that Earth blesses us with every day –
and there would be no greed, no hunger,
no richer, no poorer.

I thrive and I feel energized
by the light and the bright
of a beautiful morning;
I have stayed up through the night,
and I have been shrouded by the dark of the night
and I have walked under the silver shimmer of moonlight;
I love a night-owl dearly –
however, to me, it is not after the sun has set
that the dream-world that awaits me starts calling;
I am the one who listens to every solemn sound
that only slightly breaks the silence
of a new day’s dawn, and who looks for,
and who sees more –
however, that is just me…
I cannot help myself from being a “morning person”
who smiles at the instant that I see
the first breath-taking burst of daylight
and the golden flash
that is our sun’s magical star-light.

My Poem ‘A new leaf’

A new season brings new colours;
a new season brings new flowers;
a new forest brings new trees;
a new burst of sunlight
brings alive new leaves.

A summer’s day is filled with energy;
a summer evening is filled with sparkling stars;
a summer afternoon is filled with beautiful serenity;
a summer’s morning is filled with the most intense
and overwhelming explosion of natural light –
especially at the moment of sunrise
when the sun expels the dark.

Summer walks… summer music…
summer waterfalls… summer epics…
summer breeze… summer shades…
summer peace… summer feelings,
emotions and memories that will never fade.

Every season brings new things
into the mix of life on Earth;
every person is like a planet –
everything in the universe shares something
immutable from birth;
every time we think we have seen everything
something new always shows its face;
every moment is fleeting, precious,
and goes by so fast –
just ask an astronaut looking back at all of us
as they orbit high-above in space.

Just imagine if there was no time
to be bound to any longer…
just imagine if you no longer knew how old you were –
you would always be the same age
and never get any older…
just imagine if your time was yours
to do with what you may…
just imagine if there were no clocks,
no watches, no calendars…
then every life and every one
would live every day as if it were an endless day.

A new shirt…
a new adventure…
a new intake of something to quench your thirst…
a new sense of self-worth…
a new page… a new dream…
a new stage… a new new air to breath in,
heralded by the sight and the prospect
of a new leaf.

My Poem ‘Morningstar’

To me, writing is like driving;
to me, writing is like flying;
to me, writing is like diving;
to me, writing is like searching;
to me, writing is like remembering;
to me, writing is like imagining;
to me, writing is like smiling;
to me, writing is like crying;
to me, writing is like sharing;
to me, writing is like exorcising;
to me, writing is like star-gazing;
to me, writing is like trying
to capture something breathtaking
that almost defies explaining.

When the morning-star rises
it calls to all of us;
when the morning light shines
life below the surface of the Earth
is tempted to break-through the dust;
when the morning air is inhaled
into a near-infinite number of lungs
every-thing breathes in each-other;
when the morning colours reveal themselves
is when something amazing
and unexpected always occurs.

When I write
I look out,
I see things,
I feel something
and then I think…
when I write
sights and sounds become emotions
and meaning is transformed into words
that feel like they are
ready to be spoken on the tip of my tongue…
when I write
an entire new world of wonder
is built with every blink…
when I write
my imagination and my thoughts
race, explode, and flash brightly
like the lightning of a thunder-storm…
to me, writing is akin to watching
and experiencing in all its epic-magnificence
the great gift of seeing the sun rising.

The planet Venus is so far away
but shines so bright in the sky
that it is often mistaken for a star;
it isn’t until you see something up-close
that you can know if it is truly
all that you wished for it to be
when it was far-reaching and yet fascinating;
it isn’t every-one and every-thing
who gets to inspire and change the course of a life,
when in perspective to most things
they are but a dot in the dark;
I have been inspired by many things
since I first began writing,
but to me nothing and no-one
could ever compare to the beautiful shining face
of my angel who I see each and every morning.