My Poem “Music/Food”

Just like the ingredients
that all combine to make
a meal look, smell, and taste
the way that it is supposed to,
a piece of music or a song
is also a multi-layered mixture
of individual components
that all harmonize to become
something greater that the sum of their parts –
as they are played by those players
capable of synchronising the gift within them
with the instruments that they have at their disposal…
the art of making a melody of music
that has a distinctive voice of its own,
that is immediately recognisable,
even after the first morsel
of ear candy has been heard,
is exactly like the signature of a dish
prepared by someone for
breakfast, lunch, or dinner –
because food, like music,
leaves an indelible imprint on all of us
that is always profoundly memorable.

Both food and music are both a key
as well as a gateway to memories
and experiences that may have become
compartmentalised by us over time –
but there is no denying how both
a song, and perhaps something
that you may not have tasted for years,
can have the instant power
to turn the gears of our minds
back to a particular place and a time…
food is sustenance for the body,
music is sustenance for the mind –
and when combined together,
while dining within a restaurant
or in a cafe, there is no estimating
the flood of endorphins that can rise
within our thoughts which can drive our emotions
in ways akin to a tsunami of waves
that have the ability to resurface
moments of merriment so meaningful to us
that they can make lost artifacts
of our consciousness once again easy to find.

Both eating food and listening to music,
to some people, can be like having
a spiritual experience that feeds
and rejuvenates something within them
that goes beyond the physical and the biological…
consuming certain legal stimulants,
such as chocolate or caffeine,
that have the ability to influence
the speed that our heart beats
and the way that we feel,
can affect us in the same way that music
can make us all involuntarily
raise our arms, close our eyes,
move our feet and dance around a room –
especially if the song that we hear
is one of our favourite tunes
that always has the effect of making us move
as if we are being compelled by a spirit
that we never want to be free of
that always takes us all to a place that feels
out of this world and utterly phenomenonal.

My Poem “The Great Outdoors”

8:17 AM was when the power went out,
and it was a minute later –
at exactly 8:18 AM –
that I heard the call, the alarm:
this distinct and loud voice
beckoning me to put on my walking boots
and take a look around at the wonders
of life and nature to be found
on any given morning when you
just choose to let go
of whatever is holding you back –
and when you have on your doorstep
a snapshot of life that is as unparalleled and unbounded
as that of the Centre of England
you simply have got to put one foot
in front of the other and explore
the Great Outdoors.


My Poem “A Summer Like No Other”

The Summer season is usually
a time that most people
look forward to and plan for…
the Summer is usually when
people have once in a lifetime
experiences that they
have never had before…
the Summer season is usually
when people spend most of
their time outdoors…
the Summer is usually when
everybody is smiling
from ear to ear and embracing
the rays of the sun
that seem to shine a light
on certain aspects of life
that inspire moments of awe.

The Summer season is supposed to be
when people enjoy certain examples
of beauty as they come into bloom…
the Summer is usually when people
like to take their time
when talking to one another,
face to face, instead of feeling
like every interaction is just one long zoom…
the Summer season is supposed to be
when people feel optimistic,
and they are generally in a good mood…
the Summer is supposed to be
when most people are singing with joy
and not crying because they had got
a bad case of the blues.

This Summer has already been filled
with so many examples of good news,
as well as the ultimate example
of bad news which we all know about
which in truth has felt like
one long, continuous, and engulfing
cloud that has been the epitome
of a bad dream that has
unfortunately come true…
this Summer has been one that
will forever be etched upon
the psyche of everybody
far into the future…
this Summer has been a time
in the lives of everybody alive
that will be something spoken about,
chronicled, and remembered as a
Summer when the whole world
had to do what they had to do
to protect the most vulnerable
and to preserve as much as possible
for the next generation…
the events of this year
will haunt humanity like a spectre,
because this year has felt like
a Summer like no other, and memorable
in most cases for all the wrong reasons.

My Poem “Good Omens”

The sun was shining
when I woke up this morning,
but as time went by
the clouds began to gather
and the raindrops started to fall…
it had been raining for days –
but I actually believed
that today would be the day
when spring would finally begin
and everybody could once again
enjoy the experience of walking tall
under the light of the sun
that has always been somewhat
of a universal draw…
just as I and everybody
had come to the conclusion
that the end of time was upon us
and that it was potentially
going to rain for another
forty days and forty nights, or more,
spontaneously a bright burst of sunlight
parted the dark clouds
and shined down from above –
like witnessing a miracle happening,
or like watching a thought,
an idea, or a dreaming coming true…
as soon as everybody saw the sun shining
and usher in a bright blue sky almost immediately,
I instantly saw smiles appear on people’s faces
and the clouds above people’s heads lift –
as if the sunlight that everybody had witnessed
inspired a feeling of hope and optimism,
and a definitive change in the collective mood…
it’s amazing what the gift of sunlight can do…
it’s incredible to watch wet paths
and deep puddles of water evaporate
before your eyes and make
even the most shy of people
want to laugh and sing…
it is breathtaking to see something –
that may seem random to someone else –
and to interpret it as if it were
a sign of a higher power
and a reminder to always expect the unexpected…
even when all that you hear
and all that you see makes your mind
wander to all the things in the world
that make people dwell upon
the fear of the doom and gloom
that seeks to cast a shadow over the world –
like when the sun is obscured by the moon –
it is always important to think,
to hope for, and to look for all
the positive lights that are there to be found,
even on a morning of dark clouds and raindrops
you can find small, but significant, good omens.

My Poem ‘The Good Reader’

From acorn to tree…
to paper… to writer…
from life to inspiration…
from the pen of a poet…
to the eyes
and the imagination of a reader…
from out of a cloud of chaos…
something new… something personal…
something that like the person
writing it down and the place
from where the paper
it is being written on came from…
something incredible made believable…
something two-dimensional brought to life
so that it may walk the walk of words
and then take a leap from the page
into the mind of the one
who is reading what is being described…
a world imagined and captured
like a bolt of lightning in a bottle…
something that is a testament
to the power of the human mind…
it is amazing what a writer can do
and what pattern of magical words
they can weave…
it is amazing what a writer
can make a person believe…
epic journey’s have begun
and have been taken
by readers following every word
of every sentence of a writer’s story…
adventures of every height, depth,
and distance have been undertaken
by people who yearn to escape reality
and let their mind and their heart run-free…
over the centuries and after all the tales
that have been told there is still nothing
better to read than a story
that is based on true-events…
even to this day there is no better thing
to experience than to be told a story
and to hear a story while sitting around
a campfire at night with a group of friends…
ghost-stories, recollections,
tales of what, where, when, how, and who with…
some stories sometimes are so amazing
and miraculous that it is hard to know
what is imaginary and what is the real-thing…
a story, like a dream, is a world
that everybody steps into, lives,
and then takes something away from…
a story, a book, a world of characters
and people who we find within a tale
that must be told and read
can teach us something that we never knew
and it can also tell us something
about ourselves…
in countless bookstores, libraries,
on countless displays and book-shelves,
there is untold treasure to be found,
infinite sunsets and sunrises to be seen,
as if staring at the horizon from a pier…
sometimes it is just impossible
to put a book or a story down
once you have begun reading it –
and no matter where a book
or a story takes you
there is only one thing that you can do,
and only one thing that you want to do:
follow the words of a writer
and be a good reader.

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My Poem ‘A Good Day To Write’

Today is beautiful…
the weather could not be better…
today has an energy and a feeling
that feels magical and wonderful…
the sky is blue
and there isn’t even one cloud above,
and with every breath that I take
I can sense that there is something special
and inspirational in the air…
I don’t know what it is,
but I have a felt like this before –
to me, to the writer in me,
it is like catnip and all I want is more…
like an intoxicating perfume…
like a dog with a squeaky-toy…
like a wolf howling at the moon…
like that memory of racing down a hill
on my go-kart when I was a boy…
heart-racing, inspiring,
invigorating, breath-taking, exciting –
like the thrill that some people get
from adrenaline-filled activities
like driving-fast, or cliff-diving?
From start to finish, from beginning to end:
an artists dream, a writer’s wish…
like seeing a sun rising or setting…
like the abundance of life and nature
of a forest that gets inside you…
like a day spent in a countryside of green-fields…
like a day spent reading a book under a tree…
like a day spent with your girl-friend,
your wife, your soul-mate,
just enjoying every moment of love
and being together…
today… today is one of those days:
a good day to walk… a good day to smile…
a good day to love… a good day to read…
a good day to open your eyes,
to open your ears, to open your heart…
and if you are a writer like me,
today is definitely a good day to write.

My Poem ‘School Friends’

Throughout the years
that we spend in attendance at school,
we have certain friends
with whom we hang-out
and sit down to have our lunch with –
however, when we fast-forward
to the present day and to the life
that we are now live,
how many of those same people,
those same friends,
do we all still know,
still talk to, or ever sit down
to have a meal with?
If I were to make a wild-guess,
based on my own experience,
then I would say not one,
or very few at-all-
which, to me, is a sad thing to think about
when you think back and your remember
some of the enjoyable and the fun times
that you might have shared
with your best school-friends.

It is natural for people
who once spent a great deal
of their time together
to slowly drift-apart
and become distant with one-another,
sometimes in every sense of the word…
life, like time, like a river,
runs in one direction –
the choices that we make
can see us doing things
that when we were children
we would have only thought of as
things that were beyond our wildest-dreams:
diving with sharks deep below the waves of the sea…
having adventures in rain-forests…
seeing the spectacular Northern-Lights…
or, perhaps, packing-up all your belongings
and making a new home on the other-side of the world?

We all grow up with people…
we all meet people over the course of our lives…
we all think that when we are a child
that the fun times will never come to an end…
we all had good days and bad days
when we were at school…
we all have memories from when we were kids
of memorable mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights –
but, unfortunately, sometimes we all have to grow up,
grow from within, and we all have to make a leap
into an unknown world –
however, even though we all must move on in life,
find new things, and meet new people,
that does not mean that we should ever
have to forget who we went to school with…
who, no matter where they are now,
we will always remember them
as being our one of a kind
school friends.

My Poem ‘The Good Listener’

I don’t know what it is about me…
Maybe it’s my face?
Maybe it’s my voice?
Maybe it’s my eyes?
Maybe it is my unimposing-demeanor, perhaps,
that draws people to me one-after-another,
like a firefly to candle-light?
I don’t know what it is,
but, for some reason, people believe
that with me and to me
they can allow whatever is on the tip of their tongue
and whatever is on their mind to be said and be set free.

I have lost count of the number of strangers,
who seemingly from out of nowhere,
have introduced themselves to me,
and have almost told me their entire life-story;
I have been sitting on a plane,
I have been sitting alone at a table in a cafe,
when more than one person has turned to me
and has told me their name –
and, not long after,
we have had a brief-but-meaningful conversation
that may have been the highlight of their day.

Questions… secrets…
questions like: what, to you, is the meaning of life?
secrets, like: how do I go home and be a real father
to my kids, and also be a true husband to my wife?

And in what form do I respond? And what is my response?
I listen. I let whomever it is who is talking to me be heard
and say aloud to me what they have not had the courage
to disclose and confess to anyone, before me, not once.

Just as I have always been a good reader of books,
I have always been a good reader of people, as well;
just as a book-cover captures and teases the inside of a book,
so does what a person wears and says out-loud
when they think that nobody is looking at them
and nobody is listening to them says a lot about someone –
not everything, of course, but there is still so much
from observing someone that you can tell.

A person’s consciousness has a lock to it,
just as every door has;
it is amazing the depths
and the number of levels that a person’s mind has;
everybody loves communicating what they are thinking
and how they are feeling, more so than they may know;
I have always said that anyone can be a writer –
in my opinion, to be a writer all you need to do
is open your heart, speak from your soul –
and the best way is to speak and to write
what you have been through, and what you know,
and watch the thoughts, the ideas,
and the words just flow.

They say that confession is good for the soul;
they say that when you fall in a hole
the best thing that can happen to you
is for someone to come along
who has been in the exact same position
and the exact same hole before
and who chooses to jump in the hole
you are in with you
because they know the way out;
I believe that sometimes
you have to lose something that you don’t need
to make yourself feel whole again;
I believe and I know that everyone in this life
deserves to be heard –
even those who do not exclusively
communicate with their mouths;
just as the choice to share something
to me shows that a person cares about something,
just as someone who is creative cares deeply about an idea –
I believe that the greatest thing that you can do in a day
is to listen to someone, and the best person you can be
to someone else is to a good listener.

TheGoodListener