eyes
My Poem “Eyes”
I wonder how many people realise
that when they are staring into
another person’s eyes
that they are not only looking at
the windows into a person’s soul
but they are also seeing the most
external part of that person’s brain
which is constantly relaying multiple images
at the speed of light down the optic nerve
of each eye to the part of the brain
responsible for making decisions
and stimulating many simultaneous
reactions as a result,
and it is also true that you can tell
a lot about a person’s health
and their lifestyle by watching
the way that the iris of someone’s eye
moves, dilhilates, focuses and flickers –
and I think the fact that our eyes
have such a direct connection to
the way our brain operates,
the thoughts that we have,
and the storm of chemicals that
bubbles up within us perfectly
symbolises
why it is important to take care of your eyes
because they are vital in more ways
that some people might realise.
My Poem “The Eyes of a Poet”
As the rain lashed down
on a cloudy day
I looked out the window
of the Diplomat café,
as a bright blue tram car
glided passed upon the rails
of the tram railway –
and as I did I immediately
found myself experiencing
a wave of inspiration grow within me,
which I knew almost instantly
that I wanted to savour,
to save, and to capture
so that it may endure
in some profound way.
Writers and artists are always looking
for a place where they can create
unimpeded by the distractions
of the outside world –
especially when they are first
starting out upon their artistic journey;
personally, I try not to box myself
into the corner of a particular room
and declare that there is only
one place and one way,
where, when, and how,
I can express what I want to say.
Writers and artists are constantly
finding themselves creating art
at every time of the day
and wherever they find themselves
caught in the shower of
shooting stars of inspiration,
because what artists become inspired by
is ultimately in the hands of fate,
and over the years I have
randomly found myself –
while staring at a sunset,
while sitting in a movie theatre,
while staring at a masterpiece of art
by Vincent van Gogh or Leonardo da Vinci –
absolutely and unfathomably
in a state of complete mesmerism
in which I felt like I could access
deeper layers of connection, life,
and an understanding about the art
that I saw and the artist
responsible for creating
what ultimately turned out to be
that something that would inspire me.
Artists and writers
are always chasing that once
in a lifetime spark
of artistic creativity
that will excite and unify
every one of their senses
and their instincts
and that will perfectly combine
to make something special
that people will never forget –
and being an artist is sometimes
like walking a line,
like crossing borders,
and like discovering
and delivering a message…
being an artist and a writer
is sometimes like being some kind
of an envoy, a peacemaker, a diplomat,
and someone who can occasionally see –
when they can look at all
the multiple possibilities
of something simultaneously –
that things become increasingly
more clearer when you
take a step back from something,
while still looking at it
and while still internalizing it,
however while secretly interpreting it
by using the eyes of a poet.
My Poem “My Ever Loving Angel”
You are the angel I prayed for…
You are the angel I worship and adore…
You are the angel who sees me
and who accepts me
no matter my flaws…
You are the angel who prays for me…
You are the angel who loves me…
You are the angel who I love…
You are the angel who inspires me…
You are my angel with the beautiful eyes…
You are my angel with the perfect face…
You are my angel with the gorgeous smile…
You are my angel with the purest heart…
You are my angel, my heaven on Earth…
You are my angelic and amazing soul-mate…
You are an angel to everyone who matters…
You are an angel like no other…
You are an angel of sunlight…
You are as angel-like as a ballet-dancer…
You’re hair is the colour of a beautifully glowing halo…
You’re beautiful angelic music plays
constantly from the centre of your soul…
You are more breathtaking
than you could ever know…
You are more beautiful than words…
You are my world…
You are my ever loving angel.
My Poem ‘Countryside’
As I dream about a city across the sea,
there is someone over the ocean
wishing that they were walking
the fields of the English countryside;
as I sit and hear the sounds
and the accents that I remember so well,
there is someone in the very country
where I wish I was now
thinking about what it would be like
to be where I am, doing what I am doing,
completely untroubled and free.
As I write I think about that friend of mine
telling me about their wish,
and I wish that they and I could trade places,
even if it were only for a few minutes,
and even if it was only a momentary
swapping of minds and lives,
so that we two could for moments
walk in each others shoes
and know the taste and the smell of each others air…
if they were here and if I were there.
If my friend were here at this moment
they would cry at the beauty of the sight of my home;
if my friend could see with my eyes,
their entire vision would be met by
all the colours of the rainbow
represented by the colours of the surrounding
and blooming flowers;
if my friend were able to take in the perfection
that I have known my entire life
which never gets old,
they would never be able to describe verbally
what their eyes cannot look away from –
even if they were describing the landscape
to someone on the phone;
if my friend could follow in my footsteps,
they could and they would never stop exploring
and seeing something new and beautiful
everywhere they looked,
even if they kept walking for 24-hours.
Even when it rains,
and the leaves of the trees are speckled
with droplets of cleansing water from above,
the green that is England through and through
only becomes even more striking,
and when the clouds part
and the sunlight comes blazing through
there is no view anywhere
that is more amazing, nor breathtaking,
than the sudden explosion of colour
that is nature accentuated by the golden rays
of the most important star in the sky
that always makes my home
look like a real life landscape of art
that could never be fully explained,
because it is what it is:
a true, heart-breaking, paradise,
that is so beautiful
it will never stop bringing tears to my eyes.
There are people who I have not yet met face to face,
but who I want to meet;
there are places where I have been
that I want to return to some day,
where when I left them I cried;
there are friends of mine in other countries
who I can’t wait to fully introduce myself to
in the flesh when we first meet and greet;
there are places that I see every day
that the sight of makes me smile,
that if I could I would share with the entire world –
where I have done my fair share of walking,
thinking, contemplating and imagining,
in the most heavenly place on Earth
that is the great, glorious, gorgeous
and beautiful English countryside.
My Poem ‘Complexion’
With every step you take through nature,
with every minute in the sun,
with your eyes you can see
phenomenal, beautiful, fantastic,
incredible features,
with your ears you can hear
the rhythm and the natural music of life,
of which you could only previously recall but a fraction,
and your memory can only be a reflection.
The feeling of the sun on your skin;
the shape and the colour of every flower;
the aroma that is a mixture
between that of cut grass
and the most intoxicating perfume;
the time that can seem like a blissful eternity
that in reality is like a magical glass globe
of a world in which the blossom from the trees
floats and is carried by the wind
within a matter of hours –
on a sunny spring day
there is only one song and one sensation
you want to replay and replay.
The world would not be the same without us,
and we would not be the same without the world;
just as the molecules of our bodies
are bound tightly together to make us in a certain way,
just as our genetic traits slowly become noticeable
throughout our lives and will always be present in our DNA,
humanity is like a mixture of chemicals in a test-tube
and Earth is where the reaction happens
and can be observed in the galactic laboratory
that is always making and remaking
the definition of life’s mould.
There are skies of red;
there are seas of white;
there are stories never to be known or read;
there are birds that will never take flight;
life is no accident,
but it is an ongoing experiment;
things that were thought lost forever can return;
beauty can be different from person to person,
and can have different meanings
in different places on the same planet;
ice is cold, but it can also burn;
eternity can be an unimaginably cruel gift to some,
to live forever would be the most unnatural thing
to have to endure –
because every living thing lives and dies
so that all life can carry on;
change is fundamental in welcoming
the arrival of the future;
everyone must be both a balance
of different and the same;
to see the universal differences
there must be a spectrum;
everybody has an instinct about things
that can’t be easily explained;
biological life has its own natural colour
that is truly a miracle to behold
and to watch it as it defies explanation
every time while showing the simplicity
and in the same instant the complexity
of the infinite and the multi-dimensional
complexion of the universe.
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