My Poem “Working”

Working all the time is not good for your mind…
Working all the time can sometimes bring out your bad side…
Working all the time is not good for your health…
Working all the time may earn you money –
but everybody knows that there is more to life than a person’s wealth…
Working all the time can be stressful…
Working all the time can be emotional…
Working all the time can sometimes make it hard to breathe…
Working all the time can sometimes make you feel like
you are chained to your workstation and unable to leave…
Working all the time can sometimes mean sacrificing
a part of your life that means more to you than words can say…
Working all the time can feel like you are
stuck in a cycle of obsession that you repeat day after day…
Working all the time is what we all need to stop doing…
Working all the time without a break and without recognition
for all your hard work is like being a member
of a team that is constantly losing…
Working all the time will do you no good…
Working on something that makes you happy,
in between the hours that you have to give over
to that which pays the bills,
is the thing that at the end of every day
will always fill you with the most joy:
that which you put all of yourself into,
but at no point while you are doing it
does it ever feel like you are working.

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My Poem “Worth it”

Hopes and dreams are wonderful things…
going on an emotional journey
is always worthwhile and fulfilling…
having trust and confidence in something
or someone is necessary if you value
the power and the meaning of believing…
worrying about something too much
can sometimes be harmful –
which is why, if you want to feel free
of any internal turmoil,
you have to take a page out of a book of faith
and forgive something or someone,
especially if you yourself are the one
in the most need of being forgiven…
some people find it hard to believe in themselves
and to recognize that they are phenomenal…
some words, no matter how positive and powerful they are,
fall on deaf ears because those who hear them
find it hard to believe in them…
sometimes music is the only way
to break through long standing barriers
and the only way to get through to another person’s
heart and soul to allow them to understand
and feel the sometimes unfathomable…
sometimes in life patience is the greatest
of all virtues that you can posses…
waiting for something or someone
can sometimes be the hardest thing in the world –
but if something or someone is truly
who and what you think they are
then one day you will realize that
all the time that you spent waiting for them
was unquestionably worth it.

My Poem “Driftwood”

So much of life is beautiful…
so much is beautiful about life…
so much of life is expressed through colour…
so much of life is expressed through music…
so much of the world speaks
with a silent tongue in moments of stillness…
a brown leaf falling
from the branch of a tree to the ground…
the silhouettes of things
both exposed and obscured
because of the early morning
light of the sun…
a green field with yellow flowers
swaying in the breeze…
the slowly flowing water of a river…
nature certainly puts on a show for the senses
when you stop and take it all in…
it is with the golden light
that shines from above
that you can see the world’s gifts…
it is when we are free and unconfined
that we can truly breath in and breath out
the essence of meaning of nature,
life, belonging, and light…
it is with the gentle breeze that you feel
that your thoughts and your dreams
may dance the waves of life like driftwood.

My Poem ‘The American Precedent’

There is one country on Earth
that everybody looks to…
there is one way of life
that a great many people subscribe to…
there is one constitution
that is like a beacon of light,
hope, and freedom to the world…
there is something very special
that beats within the heart
of every American.

Every country needs a leader…
every country needs a states-person
and an ambassador of what it means
to be a member of a particular society…
every country needs someone
that they can look up to, and be guided by,
who allows their people to be
who they want to be,
and who empowers every kind of person:
from farmers to scientists,
from teachers to dreamers…
every country needs, every country deserves,
someone at the top of their government
who knows what equality for all truly means.

The freedom to express yourself,
the gift to be able to believe in yourself,
the privilege to be able to be an American citizen
is something that all American’s should be proud of…
that which draws eyes from all around the world
to the country of red, white, and blue,
and to their star-spangled banner,
is perhaps only something that can be seen
by an outside-observer looking in
who has been one of the lucky travelers
who have visited America over and over again.

To me, the United States of America
is not just an idea…
it is not just an experiment…
it is a place of unbelievable hope and beauty
whose people should never believe that to trump
fear you must build a wall around you –
in this day and age, in my opinion,
and with all due respect,
America needs a president for all…
for all who know that life
is about more than having the most dollars and cents…
and now is the time for all those who have a voice
that can be used to effect
the course of their country’s future –
because hope, respect, freedom and liberty for all,
are the most important precedents
that should always be championed and upheld
by every American citizen,
and by every American President.

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My poem ‘The Drummer’

It was all he heard…
it was all he felt…
it was all he wanted to do…
every morning, every night,
the drummer felt a longing,
and the beat was the only cure…
over and over again,
the drummer played the rhythm
of his favourite beat in his mind,
with the fingers of his hands,
and every time that he tapped his feet…
it was as if it was his own heart beating…
it was as if it was his own pulse racing…
it was the most epic sound
he had ever heard in his life,
since he was a baby
and he used to look out his bedroom window
and listen to the thundering sound
of the pita-patter on the window-pane
when it was raining…
it was more powerful
than any kind of hunger or craving…
to Mark, the music was like the heart-beat of God…
to Mark, the music that came from his soul
was something that was transcendental…
to Mark, the music was what kept him
from becoming among humanities lost…
to Mark, the music he heard was what he loved…
and to him it was beautiful.

Becoming a member of a marching-band
had been a dream of Mark’s since he was a child –
Mark had everything that any band
would ever want, or ever need: Mark loved music,
and he loved his favourite instrument…
even as a child Mark would turn his parents’
pots and pans into home-made drums,
and he used to play them,
and his parents let him be free
and express himself, and go wild –
and if anybody came around to visit
Mark and his parents
they would see and hear
Mark playing the most phenomenal of beats,
and every day of his life
music, especially his music,
has become more and more important.

Mark tried-out to be in his high-school band…
Mark had dreams of one day playing
in the marching-band of his favourite
college football team…
Mark played and practiced every minute
he was awake or asleep,
and he knew that it he just played
with all his heart
that everything in his life
would happen as he always dreamed it would,
as if it were all a part of a plan –
however, all Mark could play,
all Mark wanted to play,
all Mark loved to play
was the beat that he heard within…
and when his moment came
to show just how incredible a player
and a drummer he was Mark froze…
and then he did what he always did –
he played the music that he knew and loved.

Mark never made it into the marching-band…
Mark was disappointed to not be able to play
and march in front of his favourite football team –
but he wasn’t sad…
to lift his spirits, Mark’s parents ordered him
a band-uniform all of his own and they told him to
“never stop playing” the music that made him
the most happy and the music he had always known…
Mark’s parents told him to go out in his uniform,
with his drum, and “fill the world” with his music
that to them was like no other –
and that is exactly what Mark did:
he went out…
he walked down the main street
of his home town’s most busiest road…
he stopped people and traffic
to a stand-still everywhere he went…
and as he played he knew
that because of his music
he would always be remembered
as the boy, and later the man,
who would always be known as
“The Drummer”.

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My Poem ‘GA 30741’

Upon first awakening, all is dark
while the air is still warm;
when drifting off to sleep
during the summer-time
is when the lightning bugs glow
in the twilight as they swarm;
when the sun is shining
and the blue sky comes alive,
when you can sit back and take your ease
somewhere peaceful and special,
you feel the most lucky to be where you are,
having the time of your life.

When you see something everyday,
when you live somewhere all your life,
you can easily take something
or somewhere for granted,
when you are happy and content,
the minutes and the hours
can seem to fly away –
however, just as moments come
and they go like a flash of light,
when we all learn to harness
the energy and the feeling of our surroundings
it is then that we can make moments
and memories last forever,
and just like our genetic memory
be forever imprinted.

I have Georgia on my mind;
I have Tennessee in my heart;
I have a pocket of dollars and dimes;
I have the light of an American angel
shining on me like a star;
I have the accents and the voices
that I know so well
echoing through my consciousness
like a choir singing in a church;
I have the distant sight of Lookout Mountain
still fascinating me from afar.

I have walked over old battlefields,
and paid my respects to the lost
at memorials erected to remember the fallen –
those who gave their lives
to preserve the right of everyone
to enjoy the gift of true freedom.

The United States of America
is one country made up of fifty
wonderfully diverse states;
the heart of every American
beats proud and strong;
the United States of America
is a symbol of hope and prosperity
in so many ways;
every state of America
is a piece of an epic
and breathtaking unfinished puzzle –
and, to me, the states of Georgia and Tennessee
symbolize what makes
the United States of America truly great,
and there isn’t a minute that goes by
when I do not think of my home in 30741.

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My Poem ‘Ruminant’

A deer walking through a green wood;
a horse galloping across
a beautiful open expanse;
an eagle soaring and gliding
through the air above a vast herd of buffalo;
an adventurer trekking through a jungle,
with a pack full of all that they need
to survive in the wild,
as the raindrops fall on them
and down the lip of their coat’s hood;
a small dog resting outside in the sun
in their favorite spot,
with a look about them
that says that they are feeling
inconceivable emotions of happiness;
a writer writing
while listening to their muse of music,
writing rhymes as if each word
had its own distinctive sound to them,
that sound like
that of the notes of a musical instrument.

As with everything that is made up of
and from the combination of many ingredients,
all things must ruminate and coalesce
and be infused naturally over time
by the mixture of nature and identity;
just as the present is an echo of the past,
as well as a prelude for the future,
some things must always stay the same,
and if necessary thrive on being different –
because in life strict conformity
can be the true enemy.

Inspirational people
have taken countless people
on journeys throughout history,
and the stories of their deeds
have long out-lived them
and are read and retold every day
to a whole new generation
of free-thinking and inquisitive people
looking for answers to life’s questions,
far and wide;
writers, artists, musicians,
have been struck by instant and deep inspiration
while staring at a flower swaying in the breeze;
children have been recognized for being special
because they chose to work hard
and dig deep and go that extra mile;
animals are sometimes revered for being exceptional
because they represent and they talk
to the needs that we all feel
for contentment and connection
with our surroundings
based on our ever-present instincts.

When I truly allow my thoughts
to flow and to float,
they are like a big fluffy cloud in a blue sky;
when I truly open up
and let my feelings bubble up,
they can sometimes spread
like the waters of a flood;
when I truly focus on the journey,
and not the end, I believe and I know
that life for us all goes on,
even after we die;
when I truly live and breathe
every second of the one that I love,
I feel things that almost defy description
and definition – as if I were
a part of an infinite, amazing,
cosmologically-vast and meaningful meditation.