My Poem “Transitional”

Life is always transitioning
from one state of being to another -
but the act and the art of change
is no more apparent, prominent,
invigorating, and awe-inspiring
than at the time of the year
of when Spring becomes Autumn
when the leaves of the trees change colour
and then ultimately let go and fall...
people are always thinking, listening,
feeling, and looking for new things,
or familiar things,
to excite or reignite their senses -
and there is no time like the present
when anybody can seemingly do anything,
when anyone can look how they want,
when anyone can be whoever
and whatever they want to be...
places are always having new visitors to them,
and there are always those people
who return to a place time after time -
because a certain place has something about it
that is special, magical,
and gets under a person's skin deeper than a needle.

In my experience life is full of poetry...
in my experience people are more pliable 
than they think they are...
in my experience every place has a story
that speaks volumes and can be heard
if you want to hear what it has to say...
in my experience life experience is
what gives us all the gift of indistinguishable individuality...
in my experience some people
can only show their best side when
everything around them is dark
and they can shine like the brightest of stars...
in my experience we can all find ourselves
somewhere and with someone that can influence us
that we can in turn have an influence on
the more that we are exposed to them -
especially if we are with someone
somewhere almost every day.

Life does not always give everybody a choice
as to whether they want to change or not -
because sometimes some things
must happen,
whether we want them to happen or not...
life has moving pieces and things
that must repeat and work
in synchronicity with one another
like the cogs, gears, and the settings of a clock...
people like things that reoccur
because it gives them something to look forward to -
that is why people like traditions...
life is about things that are built to last,
as well as about things that happen, are captured,
and then are gone again in a snap!
Life and people will always be a work in progress
and always in the process of constant transition.


My Poem “Let it out”

It always feels good to reconnect...
it always feels good to go back
to somewhere you haven't been in a while...
it is always good to see people who you
have always felt a connection with...
it always feels good to do something
you haven't done for a while,
but from the moment that you
start doing something again,
or from the moment that you
see someone again,
it feels like no time has passed -
because almost immediately
your muscle memory starts to kick in
and deeply ingrained instincts begin to rise
to the surface of your mind palpably fast.

It always feels good to pick up
and read a book that you haven't
read since you were a child
and instantly notice certain details
about certain characters that you
might have previously missed -
and, because of the intervening time,
it is as if the way that you once imagined
people to appear in your minds eye
has changed and evolved just as we all change
throughout the many chapter of our life...
it always feels good to hear a song
that will always define an important
moment in your life that ever time you hear it
has the power to be able to transport you
back in time to when and to where
you felt affected by it for the first time.

It always feels good to start
a new adventure that you immediately know
will be filled with experiences
that will shape you, will mould you,
and ultimately caste you in such
a fundamental way that going forwards
nothing will ever be the same...
it always feels good to open your mind...
it always feels good to let your thoughts
and your ideas speak for themselves...
it always feels good to find others like us
so that we do not feel like we are alone...
it always feels good to not have to worry
and to feel free to let whatever
is inside of us all out.

My Poem “The Burning Bulb”

This is what I remember...
this is how it used to be...
this is what I and many others
like me have been unable
to do for almost a year...
this is how I have spent
so many mornings as a writer, as a poet,
and as an observer of human nature:
sitting in my favourite café,
as the bells of a nearby clock ring out,
and feel like I am where and when
I need to be to take out my notebook
and write some new poetry.

It hasn't been the same experience,
it hasn't been the same magic -
even though I have not stopped
writing, nor creating new things,
over the last twelve months
I, like everybody, has had to adapt to living
in a world divided in so many ways...
even though I have not been
lacking in ideas, inspiration, drive,
nor passion to let my poetic side express itself -
now that I am back, sitting inside
and enjoying the ambience and the atmosphere
around me that I know so well,
which for years has fuelled my creativity,
I honestly feel as if I am able to spread
the wings of my intrinsically
poetic and artistic spirit.

I have learned over the years
to embrace every moment,
because things can very easily
be put on pause, beyond our control,
or can even be brought to an abrupt end -
which is why I often dwell upon memories
of where I have been, of what I have seen
and of what I have felt throughout my life...
I am someone who has always looked
to the distant horizon and to the future -
but when anybody goes through
a period of being within something,
or away from someone who matters to them,
everybody undoubtedly feels
this need to somehow go back,
to recapture and to relive all that to them
for so long has always felt like
a constant burning bulb of energizing
inspiration, light, and hope.

My Poem “The Code of Poetry”

It has always been hard for me to describe
just how much poetry means to me -
because it is hard to put into words
the power and the magic that I feel
whenever the title or the idea
for a new poem comes to me.

It's breathtaking! It's amazing!
It's exciting! It's revitalizing!
I have been writing poetry for so long
now that the ability to do so
almost feels like a sixth sense
that I can't turn on or off -
in fact, sometimes I almost feel like a conductor
who can always find a way to reach out
and attract an abundance of poetic lightning.

I have experienced moments of
exhilaration and levitation while writing poetry
that I can only compare to instances
similar to how people describe
what it feels like to have been touched
by the divine hand of an Angel or a God -
and every time that I do feel inspired
to write something I have never written before
the only way that I know
how to describe the experience is
to say that it feels like I have been given
a message that was for my eyes only,
because I alone was the only one
who could decipher this hidden,
but ever present, code of poetry.

My Poem “The Tough Stuff”

When people are surrounded
by artificial light, by heat, and by order
it can be hard to imagine what it was like
for the first generation of human explorers,
who originally began as one diverse group,
who then went their separate ways
to discover and to understand more
about what and who makes the world
the way that it is, as well as populate
the vastly different regions that
our planet is known for the have to be
adapted to living in in many different ways.

The first people didn’t have clothes…
the first people didn’t have maps…
the first people didn’t even have
wooden built houses to call homes…
the first people didn’t even have maths –
but what the first people had,
and what sustained them,
were dreams, inspiration, ideas,
and from the moment that they harnessed
to ability to willingly create fire
they gave themselves the gift to be able
to see and to travel during the night,
to cook their own meals, and to be entranced
by the dancing flames of glowing light.

The first men and women who
embarked upon their journey of fate
to go to places they knew not where
saw things that they could only
conceptualise by capturing their depictions
of them in cave paintings and in legends
that have endured for thousands of years.

The first of us were the first to feel the spark of love…
they were the first of us to feel the passion of life…
they were the first of us to look up at the sky
and wonder about our place in the cosmos,
surrounded by an infinite number of stars,
and question why any of us are here…
they were the first of us to be brave enough
to bring people together to create
entire civilizations who thrived for a time
and who had to go through
more than anybody alive today could ever imagine.

We who are alive today are
who we are, with what we have,
because our ancestors were more
than even they knew that they were at the time –
but one thing that our ancestors knew well
was that in life what everybody
and what everything sometimes needs
more than anything is each other,
and also the knowledge that by
working together anybody can
get through anything, even the tough stuff.

My Poem “My Poetic Journey”

When I first began my journey
as a poet, as a writer, as an author,
I was a self-proclaimed
“Poet of the Sphere” –
however, over the years, I would
definitely have to admit that
I have become quite “The Rambler”
and I am so glad that I am!
I am so glad that the spark of creativity
and imagination that first arrived into my life
over a decade ago still continues
to guide me to places, to subjects,
and to sources of poetry that I have
written about and I have included in every one
of my fiction and non-fiction publications.

Over the last ten years
I have learned so much about myself,
about the world, and about the art of language
and the magic of words that I adore…
over the last ten years I have seen things,
I have experienced things,
and I have written about things
that I could never have imagined before…
over the last ten years
I have met people who have influenced
the way that I conceive and understand
the world of poetry that we are constantly
surrounded by that never stops
molding and colouring our thoughts…
over the last ten years
I have made mistakes, as everybody does –
but I have also come to realise
that mistakes and missteps
need to be made in order for us all
to have epiphanies of wonder
that open up within our mind
like the petals of a flower
or like some kind of interdimensional door.

I have written hundreds of poems…
I have written thousands of words…
I have had a million ideas
since I first started writing
while looking for answers
to the universe’ most inspiring questions…
I have had many unforgettable moments
since I first felt the poetry within my soul
cast itself upon a blank page for fear that
if I did not my heart would literally burst.

Every time I write something
it always feels like I am attempting to describe
a profound vision or a vivid dream…
every time I have written a poem
or a story over the last ten years
to me it has always felt like
I were telling a story as well as
writing a chronology to capture
every moment of my poetic journey.

My Poem “Start Early”

Some of the most profound
and prolific artists started
creating art early…
some of the most revered
and remembered artists
all began their artistic journey
by being a day-dreamer…
some of the most insightful
and incredible artists
started every new day with
questions about the universe
and their place within it…
some of the most powerful
and poetic artists begin
with a blank canvas
and with an impulse to
to describe something with
descriptive and definitive words
if they are a writer,
or with colour and texture
like that of the brush-strokes of a painter…
some of the most amazing
and astonishing artists
start out doing what they love
to do simply for fun…
some of the most inspiring
artists were inspired and
can inspire others simply…
some of the artists who
have the most unique of voices
speak with their art as
if they were standing within
a forest of trees basking
in the afternoon light of the sun…
some people discover their
secret identity as an artist later in life,
and some people hear the call
of creativity when they are still a child
and forever afterwards as a adult
whatever path they proceed upon
they always start early.