experience
A Poem A Day #513: Vincent
The Sound of Mark – podcast: “Remarks”, Episode #1 – 4
In these episodes Mark remarks about what he is doing, thinking, and feeling at the time.
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.
Mark The Poet – The Podcast: Hiatus – Explained
A Poem A Day #95: 140
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.
Mark The Poet 