My Poem “The Long Way Round”

Some times it is good to go that extra mile…
some times it is worthwhile to go back
to where you came from…
some times it is good to revisit those places
that used to make you smile…
some times all you need is to return
to those open spaces that you will always remember
and let the winds of home
blow away the cobwebs of your memory,
and once again you can feel like you are
walking among old friends as you retrace
those steps that you made
that gave you a reason to not feel alone…
the shape of time is a sphere…
even those who feel lost
one day arrive back where their journey began
and again they feel found…
the walls that surround our heart
and our soul are crystal clear…
just as we take a step into the future
we also always take a step back into the past,
and while doing so we all always feel glad
that when given the choice to take the short and easy way
instead we chose to take our time, to smell the roses,
and see the sights along the way,
as we took the long way round.

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My Poem ‘Back down to Earth’

I’m back now…
my second home is now
4000 miles away again…
I’m back below the clouds…
I feel like I am a man of two minds:
one, a proud Englishman;
and another, someone who feels at home
in Georgia, in the United States of America,
where there is more opportunity
to do anything, at any time of the day,
and at any given moment
as there are lanes on a highway.

I’m back where everybody drives on the left,
instead of on the right…
I’m back where I was born –
however, there isn’t a moment
when I do not miss the light of my day,
the light of my night,
the light of my life,
back there where you can see
fireflies flying and glowing
against the stars of a twilight sky.

I’m back wearing jeans –
however, only days before
and for two weeks-straight,
I had been wearing shorts
morning, noon, and night,
and getting touched on the skin
by the heat and the light of the sun…
I’m back walking down familiar paths
and sitting in the same chairs
in the same places that I know every inch of –
however, though I am awake and writing
here in England, I am also projecting myself
back to Georgia with Melissa
and dreaming along with her
and surrounded by the scent of a burning candle
that smells like coffee
when its wick burns and its wax melts.

I’m back where there are not as many drive-throughs
as there are in the US;
here in the UK, for example,
if we want to withdraw some money from our bank-account,
or if we want to pick up a prescription from a pharmacy,
we have to actually walk to somewhere –
however, in the US you can get money,
you can pick up your prescription,
as easily and as speedily
as you can order take-out food,
and you don’t even have to leave
the comfort of the driving-seat of your car.

Both the US and the UK share many things in common,
but there are many wonderful differences
that set them apart…
we have different names for the same things:
in the US, people seem to find more time
to celebrate and remember the liberty
and the freedoms that they are
constitutionally entitled to…
both the US and the UK even have
different forms of humour
and things that they find funny,
but both the US and the UK know
the true joy that comes with sharing experiences
together as friends and as a family,
and why it is important to smile and to laugh.

Both the US and the UK have for centuries now
shared a “special-relationship” with one-another,
and from my perspective and from my experience
our commonalities have no limit
to their importance and worth…
to me, both the US and the UK
are two sides of the same coin,
they are two halves of the same heart,
and I feel and I know with all my soul
that the US and the UK are bound to each-other
in more ways than could ever be described –
and when I am away from both the UK and the US
there are things and there are people
that I miss more than others,
but it is my knowledge
of what makes both the US and the UK
so special that always makes me smile
and always brings me back down to Earth.

My Poem ‘Waiting…’

Waiting… waiting…
I’m waiting for something…
I’m waiting for something,
and for this thing
I have been waiting all morning…
I used to think that I was good at waiting –
for my birthday, for Christmas, for the weekend…
when I was a kid I knew that within no time at all
my favourite days of the week and the year
would come around again
and within the blink of an eye
they always did…
but, I am all grown up now –
and as I wait now
for what I am waiting for to arrive and be delivered,
I now know the true meaning of the song lyric:
“the waiting is the hardest part”…
did I mention that I am waiting for something?

I have been keeping myself and my attention occupied
while I wait, I have been doing things
that I have not done for years –
but since I cannot leave the house,
and there is no one else
who can sign for my delivery for me,
I knew that I would have to keep
my eyes from constantly
looking at the time while I am waiting…
so I cleaned – I cleaned my bedroom window,
I cleaned the dirty-dishes from the night before –
I listened to music, I sat looking out the window…
thinking… wondering… waiting…
and now here I am, writing, still waiting,
and anticipating…
my morning and my day started early,
as it always does –
but now it is 2 o’clock in the afternoon,
and I am still waiting.

Waiting for what?
What is this something that is so special
that I would stay at home all day and wait for it?
Well, it is something special indeed that is coming –
something that you could say I am connected to,
and the reason that this something even exists…
what I am waiting for is something
that I have spent a long time invested in,
and as I wait for what I hope will soon arrive
I am even starting to have flash-backs
to my first encounter with the idea
of what is beimg delivered,
and I think about the journey that I and it
have already taken with each-other –
all those mornings… all those nights…
all those words… all those internal fights.

When you are doing things,
time literally flies away from you…
when you are watching something,
talking about something,
and when you take your mind off of something,
then the waiting for something
can be a little more bearable,
and less mind-numbing –
but waiting can sometimes be a good thing…
waiting can be exciting…
waiting can also be boring,
especially if you have been
counting how much time
you have actually been waiting…
time is a wasting –
but maybe it’s not?
At least I got to do something
to fill my time while I was waiting:
I wrote this poem that you are now reading –
so at least something worthwhile
came about and was born out of
all the time that I have been waiting…

My Poem ‘Welcome Back’

It’s been a long time
since I thought like a poet,
or wrote a rhyme…
I didn’t know if
I would be able to do it again,
when I opened my notebook
and I picked up my pen.

I have been enjoying life
living every day surrounded by love,
but now I am traveling
into the morning light
and flying like a dove…
an island on the other side
of the Atlantic Ocean is calling:
I am going back home
to where the temperature is low
and snowflakes are falling.

I don’t want to leave where my journey began –
I am happy to see my family again,
but I am truly sad to be leaving
the love of my life and my second family…
I can still see the last face I saw
before I left America behind for a while,
I can still see in my mind
the house that has been my home
for two weeks, or more,
that has the family name
hanging over it of “Dial”.

Once in a life-time memories made,
but now I am flying on a plane
to the land of Shakespeare,
red TELEPHONE boxes,
green-fields, and The Beatles…
in 10 hours, I will be back home in England –
however, already I feel a sensation
of ‘butterflies’, and pins-and-needles.

My mind is always in the rear-view mirror,
I am always reliving in my mind
moments that other people
might think too small
and too brief to be remembered…
when I left the U.S. tears fell down my cheeks –
whenever I have to make a difficult leap
it is always hard for me to know
what to say and how to speak –
however, though time has gone by too fast,
I know that this time will not be my last,
being where I think about every hour of the day,
with those whom cannot wait to see me again
and wish me a heart-felt ‘Welcome back!’

My Poem ‘Standing Rock’

All ground is sacred ground…
the Earth beneath our feet
has its own identity…
the world that moves silently through space,
and its spirit, is so powerful and nurturing
that it creates its own gravity
and a near-perfect environment
for all life to thrive and live…
all that breath in the air of the planet
to which we are all bound and indebted
are expected to not only take away,
but to give back in return…
our home, this world, is the home
of countless species and forms of life –
each and every-one given from birth
the rite to exist and fulfill their destiny…
some people have learned to understand
and interpret the timeless language of nature,
and they also understand that not only
does the Earth have a spirit –
so too do the trees, the plants,
the animals, the mountains, the rivers,
the seas, the fish, the microscopic organisms
smaller than the human eye can see…
every thing with a consciousness,
with thoughts, with feelings, with emotions,
with instincts, with a reason to be,
has a reason to be alive…
even a single drop of rain adds to our planets worth…
we are all luckier than we know
to live on the planet that do…
long after all the stories of our lives
have faded to dust, the Earth will still have
a billion and more mornings and nights,
Winters and Summers, frosts and thaws,
and the world will live on –
and though humanity will have gone,
we will still be ingrained in the DNA
of our home-world, and our monuments will remain,
just as the beautiful natural-monuments of Earth
will continue to boggle the mind
of everyone who is lucky enough to see
our planet’s deepest reaches
and its breath-taking, towering,
and still-standing mountains,
and epic formations –
our most special and sacred
wonders of Earth and rock.

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My Poem ‘Boo’

There once was a dog called ‘Boo’,
whose fur was as black as night
and as white as that of snow,
who when they heard the call of their name
they would run to you
and then follow you there afterwards
wherever you would go.

Boo loved to jump;
Boo loved to run;
Boo loved to bark, but never bite;
Boo loved to wag their tail
to show that they were happy and having fun.
Boo was smart;
Boo loved learning and performing new tricks;
if Boo saw another dog
they were off like a shot;
Boo’s favourite thing in the entire world
was their well-chewed green tennis-ball,
and Boo also loved giving “face-sugars”
to their owners’ mouths
with wet tongue licks.

One day, Boo saw that the front-door
of his home was slightly ajar
and that the light from outside
was shining on the floor –
Boo loved being outside
and Boo loved rolling around
on the front garden’s green lawn –
so Boo decided to take this golden opportunity
to discover what they could see, hear,
smell, and taste outside,
and embrace their gifted chance.
Boo opened the front-door more with their nose
just enough for them to fit through;
Boo jumped out into the light of the day
on to the garden path,
and then Boo saw that the gate of the garden
that lead to the road was open…
Boo saw no danger…
Boo wanted nothing more than to have fun…
Boo ran to the gate and jumped out into the road,
and then…

All dogs can go to heaven;
all animals can find peace when they pass on –
but, sometimes, the bond that an animal has
with their owner is so strong,
and they are so much a part of a family
that they love and who loves them,
that they are given a choice,
just as I believe we are all given
when it is our time:
to remain here on Earth
and continue to be near and dear
to those who bless us
with the name that we are given.
Boo saw the light,
but Boo chose to run back
into the arms of their master;
Boo’s owners cried many tears
when they discovered that Boo had left them –
however they knew that Boo
was still with them some-how,
and they also knew that the memory
of what they meant to Boo
and what Boo meant to them
was all that mattered.

Boo lived on;
Boo still loved to run and jump,
and sit comfortably in their owners’ lap;
Boo still enjoyed laying down in the grass
and sun-bathing on a sunny afternoon;
Boo still felt an unbreakable bond of love;
Boo still came running when they heard
the sound of the mail coming through the letter-box.
Although they could no longer be seen,
although their bark was now slightly more muted
than it used to be,
whenever they heard their name
there came a-running the dog that was,
the dog that is,
and the dog that will always be,
‘Boo’.

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My Poem ‘Light of your life’

Life is a symbiosis;
we may be one person,
but we are not meant to be alone;
life can be counted in sunsets
and sunrises –
however, what truly counts
and what everybody remembers the most
throughout their life
are the times that they share
when they felt the most
comfortable and at home.

Our memories are like candlelight
flickering in the wind;
our dreams are like old photographs
that have faded over time;
our fascinations and our connections
from our childhood are like breadcrumbs
of where we have been;
our thoughts and our emotions
carry farther than the seemingly small,
but in reality near-infinite,
confines of our own mind.

However young or old you are,
sometimes life can feel like a struggle –
and the greatest cure,
and the thing that you crave the most,
when your life feels like it is a rocky road,
can be as simple and as special
as a wonderfully-long hug or a cuddle;
sometimes the pressure of living can feel too much
and it is then when all you need
is that phenomenal and incredible
loving caress and touch.

Everybody shares something with everyone else;
love is universal and amazing
and is not meant to be unrequited;
even prisoners can still hold on to hope
behind the walls and the bars
of their prison cells;
those who are meant to be
must do all that they can to remain united.

Technology soon becomes out-dated;
time goes by in a flash;
some things are random,
and some things are fated;
the days to come always have echoes
within them of experiences from the past.

Never give up hope that you will one day
fall in love with someone who loves you too,
and when you find that perfect person
you will find that they understand you,
and they will want nothing more
than to orbit around you like the moon.

The things that are meant to happen and work out
the way that they are supposed to always do;
what is truly important to you
is what you carry with you
through your entire life;
and like the one in your life
who loves you the most,
until your dying day,
everything and everyone
will always be with you
and be the light of your life.