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.

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My Poem “Outlet”

Everyone has something inside of them…
everyone has something to share…
everyone has a source from which
they draw their power…
everyone has a need all their life
to explore further down the path
that leads to who knows where…
everyone has a flame
that they gravitate towards…
everyone has a time in their life
when they want to go backwards
at the same time they are going forwards…
everyone has a place – a cafe, a bar,
a room, a forum, a gathering,
that they worship, that makes them happy –
where they can go to relax and be themselves…
everyone has a favourite reality –
whether it is one of familiarity,
or one of fantasy –
where they can dream and imagine
living a completely different way of life
within the stories that can be found
stacked next to one another on a bookshelf…
everyone has to have an escape…
everyone has to have somewhere else –
even if that place is in their mind
where they can do what they want to do
and where they can say what they want to say…
everyone has to have a place, a time,
or a person, where, when, or to whom they can vent…
everyone – no matter who they are –
has to have an outlet.

My Poem ‘O.C.D. Me’

I don’t think I have ever met anyone
in my entire life
who does not have an
obsessive compulsion to something;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have a daily-routine;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have something
to which they are drawn;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who, at one time or another,
who does not over-think…
to me, everybody has O.C.D. –
everybody has a desire to find
happiness through order;
everybody knows when they look around themselves
what the picture should be;
everybody knows that for every call
there must be a caller.

We all sometimes need reassurance about some things
in order to live a life without constant worry –
sometimes, however, our worries follow us
wherever we go…
some people cannot sleep properly
unless they find out things
that they don’t know;
we are all sometimes our own worst-enemy;
however, it is not always out fault –
because there are times when things
play on our mind, subconsciously,
and thoughts become like a bird
trapped in a house
just looking for a way out
so that they can fly-free.

Those with an O.C.D.
read every-thing into everything;
those with an O.C.D.
listen to the same songs over and over;
those with an O.C.D.
repeat the same things;
those with an O.C.D.
always remember.

As a writer, I am not afraid to admit
that when it comes to my writing
I have an obsessive-compulsion
to try and not make mistakes
in whatever I write –
I, however, am a human writer,
and not a machine who functions
and who is run by programs and mathematics;
whenever I see a mistake that I have made
it does play upon my mind –
however, after a while,
I eventually resign myself
to accepting that which I cannot control –
and I take a breath and do not panic… too much.

For some people, their O.C.D.
controls their entire life;
for some people, their O.C.D.
is what keeps them awake
when it is the dead of the night;
for some people, if they do not do something
then it could never be seen by them as done right;
for some people, their O.C.D. just takes over,
and something in their brain just takes control,
of their actions and they simply can’t help it.

My Poem ‘Geronimo!’

What have you got to lose?
Don’t let the moment of a life-time pass you by;
if you have an opportunity to do something
life-changing then don’t refuse…
Take it from me,
your life can change in the blink of an eye,
so if someone gives you the means
to live your dreams
make sure that you be like Super-man,
be who you were born to be… and fly!

Everyone at some point in the life has made a choice
like that of jumping off a cliff…
everybody, everyday, lives every second
on a dream, a hope, and a wish…
everybody in their life searches for an answer
to show itself as if staring
at the scanner of a radar-dish…
everyone, everyday, loses something of value to them
and it is at those times,
even as an adult,
that we know and we relive
how we felt when we were a kid.

There is a world out there
just waiting for you
to introduce yourself to it…
there are things happening
beyond the bright-blue yonder
that eclipses anything captured
in photos on the internet…
there are people to meet who will make you smile…
there are numbers to save
that you will want to put on redial…
there are sights that will take your breath away…
there are perfect memories waiting to be made…
there are places that the world wants to show…
there are secrets that the almighty want to be known…
there is a time when you just have to close your eyes,
let go, and take a leap into the unknown
while shouting at the top of your voice:
Geronimo!

My Poem ‘All Halloween’

Almost everyone loves the season of Halloween;
all through October to November,
everywhere you look Pumpkins, skeletons,
and images of apparitions
adorn the fronts of houses on every street;
children get excited to dress up
and go trick-or-treating,
adults of all ages watch scary movies on TV
about ghosts, demons, Vampires, werewolves,
and stories about places and creatures
to be feared as if they were real,
because they almost defy imagining.

I do not think
that there is another country on Earth
who celebrates Halloween
better than North America;
I don’t think that there are no other people
other than Americans
who understand that Halloween
is meant to be a season of celebration;
I do not think
that there is anywhere else in the world,
besides perhaps Transylvania,
where stories of the world beyond this one
inspire daydreams around a campfire
that set alight the feverish
dark creations of the human imagination.

The dead are remembered;
the saints are worshiped;
the living are cherished;
the costumes that people choose
to dress up in are always wonderfully
and darkly embellished;
the night of Halloween
is anticipated by some
with as much joy as Christmas;
some people give generously
to their young sweet-toothed
trick-or-treaters that come a-calling,
while some people just do not
understand the reason for all the fuss.

For some people,
Halloween is the favourite time of the year;
for some people,
every day is Halloween –
and to them it is not just once a year;
for some people,
Halloween feels like reality is reflecting
their inner-most thoughts and dreams;
for some people,
enjoying tales of witches, spectres,
magic, and the emotions and the feelings
that bubble-up to the surface,
that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on-end,
and the stories that make you jump with fright,
is what Halloween is all about.

My Poem ‘Zenith’

The time is now,
the place is right here;
life can be heard
clear and loud,
the conditions for new inspiration
and new poetry are so perfect
they could bring about
both laughter and tears.

I am focused,
I am listening,
I am being sprinkled
with the world’s magic dust;
I am watching,
I am experiencing,
I am participating,
I am observing everybody and everything;
there are no worries, there is just me,
my pen, my notebook, my muse;
there are thoughts running through my mind
every second that burn hot and bright
and as fast as a burning fuse.

Words are wonderful,
however words are also limiting;
words can say so much,
however words only have the power that they do
when they are used with each other –
and even then, without emotion
and intention behind them,
they can sound as if something important is missing;
music is a different language entirely from words –
words can have so many meanings and translations,
but music is what the stars sound like;
and like planets circling their parent star,
music- depending on your proximity
and your connection to it-
can be a whole new wonderful and different world.

Every artist has their opus;
every person has their perfect moment;
everyone has their own life;
every experience has its peak;
every eye has seen its own sights;
everybody has had a flood of emotion
and an indomitable power overcome them
and take over them
when they must stand up on their own two feet
and vow to never admit defeat.

Everyone is like an ocean,
and everybody has a force of gravity
and a source of change and waves in their life-
like the Moon is to the Earth;
everyone has times when they are an insomniac
and they cannot for the love of good ever switch off;
everyone emerges into a different life
from anyone else from birth;
everyone knows the allure of a flame,
and everyone has a moment
of being a human moth.

There is no true definitive end to anything;
believing that you have total control of chaos is a myth;
there is a reason for everything;
dreams are both conjugations and premonitions;
and there are things that start out so distant
and random that come together in the end
and eventually reach a mutual and lasting zenith.

My Poem ‘Eccentric’

Everybody has their own quirks of personality;
everybody has something about them
that wonderfully singles them out;
everybody has the rite
to wear the crown of their own reality;
everybody is like the weather of the world –
depending on the temperature,
depending on the colour,
depending on the time of the day, or the year,
the forces of nature
and the thoughts of everybody close by
can combine to reveal wonderful
and phenomenal personal eccentricities.

I love the eccentric;
I adore the quirky;
I love the one of a kind
that are poetic and epic;
I adore the thrill of discovering a new find;
I love the unconventional;
I adore the extraordinary;
I love the language of the true individual;
I adore an oddity.

Everybody in the world is sometimes obsessive;
everybody on the planet is sometimes compulsive;
everybody has their own version
and vision of perfection;
everybody knows how to bring an oasis of peace
to a tumultuous storm of disorder.

Life is an infinite spectrum;
free-spirited and care-free people
are a bubbling cocktail
of many infusions of taste and inspiration –
like a mirror of life
reflecting the world back on itself;
life is a never-ending exploration;
the more natural that something feels
can only be something that is good for your health.

Some people thrive when in the spotlight;
some people would rather live in the shade;
some people are secret masters of life;
some people just want to heal the world
one person at a time –
even if the only thing that they can offer
is a smile to anyone and everyone
who needs one every single day.

There are some people
who like formality and predictability,
over improbability;
there are some people who act with serenity
when everybody else may have already descended
into a state of unbridled panic;
there are some people
who will never change who they are,
who will be amazing in more ways
than they will ever know,
always and indefinitely;
there are some people who are magnetic,
energetic, synergetic, kinetic, poetic,
who are in their own way prophetic –
because they are so wonderfully eccentric.