My Poem “Touched”

I am no one special,
I am but a poet, a writer, a dreamer,
an optimist, a hopeful romantic –
however, there have been times in my life
when I have felt truly touched and honored
that something that I wrote or created
touched someone else
so much so that they wanted
to share that which I expressed from my mind,
from my heart, and from my soul,
at a fundamental moment in their lives
because it meant something to them:
a friend of mine once asked me if they could
have a poem that I wrote read
at their wedding ceremony,
I was once asked to write a poem
that would ultimately inspire the creation
of a brand new song,
and just recently a poem that I wrote
and I recorded myself reciting 10 years prior
was incorporated into a song
that I must admit to listening to all the time…
I am no one special –
I never have been someone who
has ever had a natural talent
to sing about from the rooftops –
but I have always had a way with words,
I have always had a love of language,
and I have always believed that words
should flow when they are read
and they should enter a person’s consciousness
in the same way that music does…
I am no one special –
I have been told that
I used to be a bit of narcissist
when I was younger –
however, these days, I do not
pat myself on the back as much as I used to,
and even though I believe that
I have learned a lot as I have lived,
I still think that there is
so much more to life that I have to learn…
I am no one special, I am no angel –
however, I just hope that people will
remember me long after my body has turned to dust…
I am no one special, I have made mistakes –
but I must admit that no matter
what happens to me, and where I end up,
I can honestly say that I really did
try my best throughout my life
to be the best person that I could be,
and I will always be eternally grateful
to everybody who has given me the gift
of touch and who has enabled me to be
someone who has made a difference
by making people feel
as if they have been touched.

My Poem “Thirty Seven”

There are days when time goes fast,
there are days when time goes slow…
there are things that I see, hear, and taste
that instantly remind me of the past…
there are moments in every hour of every day
when I dream, when I hold on to hope,
and when I smile to myself
and I know beyond doubt why I am here,
why I do what I do, and what life is all about…
there are faces that I stare at every day
of people who define me and who make me feel
like the luckiest and the happiest
man in the entire world…
there is, and there always will be, within me
an infinite world of hopes and dreams
that will repeatedly coalesce and come together
in the form of a poem that must be written,
and for my part I always want to be a poet
with an open heart who understands
and loves the power and the magic of words…
as I write this I am on the cusp
of turning thirty seven years old,
and like every year around my birthday
I sit down and describe who I am
and what reflection I see when I look at myself
in the mirror of my mind –
and who I see is who I have always been
and who I will always be,
on Earth as well as who I will be
if and when I hopefully rise up to heaven…
there is a brand new summer enlightening
and reinvigorating me as I look down
at this page of my life
and as I look up to the bright blue sky –
and though I know that I could be
a better man than I sometimes am,
I remain eternally and constantly hopeful
and now at the ripe old age of thirty seven.

My Poem ‘The Afternoon Moon’

The ghostly image of the moon
still hangs in the sky
when the clock strikes noon –
and even two hours later
the moon is still there
in a cloudless sky
as blue, as beautiful, and as clear
as the world as seen through a tear…
the moon is on my left,
the sun is on my right…
the country air smells fresh…
the green fields below me
glow so bright under the sunlight,
and just being where I am
and seeing what I do feels so nice…
for the next three days,
at the same time of the day,
the moon lingered in the daylight sky –
one side covered in shadow,
and the other side a misty-white –
and every time I see it
I smile and I wonder
why I could see it so clearly,
even though it wasn’t night…
being an eternal-optimist
and a hopeful-romantic,
I saw the appearance of the moon
in the afternoon
as a sign of dreams coming true
and of good things on the horizon…
only time will tell what the moon
being out so early, or so late, means –
perhaps it does not mean
anything of importance at all…
however, I believe that things happen for a reason…
I believe that the universe gives us what we ask for…
I do not need to see the Earth spinning in space
to know that the world is always on the move…
I believe new things reveal themselves
during the changing of the seasons…
I believe every new day is a new door…
I believe there is a purpose
for every-thing and every-one…
just as I believe that I have been seeing
a sign of something every day
that I have looked up at the sky
in the afternoon and I have seen the moon.

My Poem ‘Beam me up!’

“Space… the final frontier…”
50 years ago, the voyages and the adventures
of the crew of the Star-ship ‘Enterprise’
began a universe, a saga, and a story,
envisioned from the out-set as a
“wagon-train to the stars”…
now, half a century after the first episode
of the television series ‘Star Trek’
first premiered on American screens,
fans young and old –
some whom were born before,
some whom were born after, September, 1966,
from all around the world,
of all walks of life, colour,
and ethnicity, are joining together
in celebration of the original ‘Star Trek’ series,
and its many film and television spin-off series,
to champion every story, every episode, every ethos,
that each and every one of which propagated –
and it is those optimistic and hopeful
visions of a future which has inspired
and compelled countless men, women, and children,
to reach beyond and journey into the unknown…
one day, perhaps in the life-time
of those who are young today,
humans will set-foot upon another planet far from Earth,
and the entire world will unite as they watch it happen –
and everybody will have the visionary creator of ‘Star Trek’,
Gene Roddenberry, to thank for creating
a world of infinite possibilities
where there exists life of infinite diversity
in an infinite number of combinations.

I have been a fan of ‘Star Trek’ since I was a child…
I have watched every episode of every television series,
and every minute of every ‘Star Trek’ motion-picture,
over and over again…
I have imagined in my dreams what it would be like
to be the Captain of my very own star-ship,
with my own crew, embarking on an adventure
of my own imagining into the vastness of space,
to the outer-reaches of the galaxy…
the thought of traveling faster than the speed of light
has always been enough to make my imagination
race away at warp-speed into the depths of wonder
that lie among the strange new worlds,
and the new civilizations, of the galactic-wilds…
I have so much to thank the writers, the actors,
the artists, of every ‘Star Trek’ adventure for –
even to this day, their influence continues
to inspire me and drive the course of my imagination –
because they have instilled in me a great love
of stories of the fantastic,
especially those of the science-fiction orientation.

‘Star Trek’ has taught me so much!
‘Star Trek’ has given me the gift of wanting to understand
the seemingly-incomprehensible, and why it is important
to treasure every moment that we are alive –
because each-and-every-one will never come again –
and what we leave behind is not as important
as how we have all lived…
and, more than anything, ‘Star Trek’ has given me
the gift of wonder and a love of embracing
the infinite possibilities of existence…
and I swear that if I were contacted
by a star-ship of any kind from another planet
that could transport me to their ship
in the blink of an eye,
“to boldly go where no-one has gone before”,
I would say, at the top of my lungs:
“beam me up!”.

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My Poem ‘Almost too much’

Life can be tough…
life can be mean…
life can be rough…
if you have seen what I have seen,
and if you have felt what I have felt,
then you will know exactly what I mean.

Is life really a game of luck?
Is life really a lottery
that we don’t know we are a part of?
Has life got to be hard
for us to understand how precious it is?
Have we got to struggle and fight
to know what this world we all live in truly is?

Sons and daughters
should not have to watch
their mothers and fathers suffer;
I know that life isn’t always fair,
but I just wish that all the love within me
and within all the people of the world
who truly care about others
could be to every cancer the most powerful cure.

I am hopeful…
I am romantic…
I do believe that the world, the universe,
is amazing, miraculous, and wonderful…
I believe that no matter what happens in life
the best thing is to not panic –
but that doesn’t mean that I do not fear
losing those who I love and who make me who I am,
and that does not mean that I do not
sometimes get scared
and my thoughts and my emotions
regress to those that I remember having
before I grew into the man that I am.

Life is a journey of mind, body, and spirit;
life is a storm of surprises, sometimes;
life goes by faster than you might think,
and there ultimately comes a day
when you look back in time
and you wish that you could relive
the moments that made you the happiest in your life
that you can’t help but miss;
life can be both a blessing and a test of soul –
it can sometimes take all your will
to keep you from losing your mind;
the days that you spend in life in love
and being loved are never enough;
life can almost be too much…
however, no matter what,
never lose what matters the most: your love.

My Poem ‘Keeping Mum’

I knew that this day would come again,
I knew that the moment would come
when I would write a new poem –
but today, now,
in the silence of Christmas morning,
after opening some presents,
I am sitting here in my room
unable to stop thinking…
I am thinking about my own Christmas Angel,
I am thinking about what this day
in particular means to me,
and I am thinking about my parents –
both separated from each-other as they wake up,
both deeply in love with each other,
both wanting so much to hold one-another,
both together and apart
who have had to go through so much.

As I sit here thinking about my Mum
waking up in her hospital bed,
as I flash-back to the moment
when the reality of what was happening hit me
and I cried and I held my Dad,
I must admit that I do feel sad,
and I just wish that there were a way
for me to stay hopeful
and to keep my faith
that my Mum will be alright
without feeling upset.

I have been going through
several stages of shock at-once
over the last few days
since I heard the news that devastated me
and clouded my thoughts;
my Mum told me that:
“we have to take every day as it comes”,
but, even though she is right,
I just feel like it is going to take me a while
to find my own way of accepting everything
and move forwards –
however, I guess that when any person
who we love is sick it is always tough.

I know that I need to be there for my Mum
now more than ever, because right now
is when she needs me the most;
I know that when I see her later
I am going to want to cry,
but that is not what she needs
or would ever want;
if I never had the light of my life
to guide me through the darkness of uncertainty
then I would feel truly lost;
I would not be here if it were not
for the people from whom I came from;
I am staying hopeful,
and I will never lose hope or give up,
and I will not allow my Mum to lose me,
and no matter what happens
there is nothing and no one
who will ever stop me
from keeping my Mum.

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My Poem ‘Mourning in Paris’

It’s morning in Paris;
people from all over the world
are in mourning;
the city of love
has a shadow hanging over it;
the free world was rocked during the night
by the actions of the agents of darkness;
and when I close my eyes now,
I listen and I can hear
the sound of Paris’ calling.

There is a golden silence;
the smell of burning
still lingers in the air;
kisses are still being shared
on the bridge of sighs;
people are praying for peace
while standing at the feet of the Eiffel Tower;
all eyes are looking for the answer
to the question: why?
eyes still sting with pain
at the thought of all the innocent people
who last night lost their lives.

All violence is needless;
every loss of life is an open-wound;
taking the life of another makes no sense;
the day when all of humanity
wakes up to the truth
that all life is sacred
is long over-due and cannot come too soon.

Fear can be paralyzing;
hope is a way and the road to healing;
the only answer to anger and hate
is to carry on shining
like a search-light in the dark
and be a constant beacon of peace;
standing together in solidarity
and extending a hand to those who are in need
is the only way to accept
and to get past a tragedy –
and that is why it is important
in the morning to remember
those who we have lost…
and this morning,
I am in mourning
and I stand shoulder to shoulder
and hopeful for peace
for the people of the city of Paris.

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