My Poem “Cap It Off”

For centuries
all types of headwear
has been worn in order
to display and to demonstrate
a particular way of life,
or a belief system
that certain people subscribe to:
big hats, small hats, tall hats,
short hats – and certain hats,
over time, were worn to signify
and to advertise the social standing
that a person had in a society…
in the United Kingdom, for example,
the vast majority of the members
of the aristocracy wore black hats
that towered above them –
while those who lived their lives
and made a living through hard labour,
long hours, and for the minimum of wages
often were observed wearing flat-caps
of different woven threads of material
and designs of fabric,
and some could often be wearing hats
with hidden surprises just waiting
to be revealed from underneath their peaks.

Hats have also been worn
as somewhat of a fashion statement,
and for some people hats are
a vital staple of a person’s identity
and they personify who they are –
take a Stetson, for example:
because who would a cowboy be
without their cowboy hat?
And who would “The Great Detective”
Sherlock Holmes be if he never wore
his characteristic Deerstalker?

Hats, caps, headwear as a whole –
be it symbolic, religious,
logo embossed, or just plain –
have never been more popular
nor more worn by every facet
of human society,
in every country on Earth,
and I see no end in sight
for the practice of wearing a hat:
because for a great many people
hats are how people “put a cap on”
a particular look that they like
in order to preserve a tradition
that could just as easily be
relegated to being a thing of the past.

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My Poem “The Virtual/Reality”

There used to be a clear
and present distinction
between the world of the real
and the reality of the virtual…
People used to be able to see
the truth of something
through the veil of the illusionary –
however, then illusionists became
better at presenting their craft
and more knowledgeable
about what motivated
the thoughts of a person’s mind
and what increased the beats
of a person’s heart,
and then it began to become
increasingly more harder
to see through the mirror
of reality that surrounds
everybody which constantly
reflects both the good and the bad
that a person observes about themselves
when they look at their own reflection.

The more that technology has advanced
the more elaborate illusions –
in all their many forms –
have become, and with every passing day
reality and fantasy have become
increasingly more indistinguishable
from one another…
in this day and age,
someone can put on a virtual reality headset,
they can open up an internet web browser,
and they can sign up to becoming
a participant and a player in a game –
however, without fully reading
the full extent of the terms
and the conditions by which
they may be bound to.

When a baby is born into this life
they are always unprepared
for what world awaits them…
when every child is growing up
they are always surrounded
by an abundance of messages,
pressures, and beacons of distraction
that are constantly interacting with,
and trying to influence,
their instincts, their choices,
and the actions that they will commit to…
when someone is transitioning
from being a beginner into becoming
a novice who knows the ropes
and all the rules of the world
and the society that they are tethered to
and which need to be adhered to,
while they are trying to figure out
who they want to be and what they want to do,
everybody is pulled in multiple directions,
by multiple people –
and it can take a long time before
someone realizes that the one person
who will feel the aftermath and the burden
of everything that they do is them,
and the greatest gift that someone
can possess is the ability
to be able to forgive themselves
and accept that they are a well-meaning,
maelstrom of both reason
and contradiction, human being, an avatar,
who, like everybody else,
does not have an accurate roadmap
telling them what to do
and when to do it.

At the heart of the complex is the simple,
and at the heart of the simple
is the complex…
in this day and age, everybody lives,
breathes, thinks, dreams, and feels
within a world tailored to their own
wants, needs, likes, and dislikes –
whether they know it or not –
that is as superficial
but as hard to break free of as
a machine-built matrix…
when it comes to choosing
which path to take, which reality is best,
everybody has to weigh up
with their heart, within their mind,
within their soul, what matters
the most to them: freedom? Or confinement?
knowledge? Or ignorance?
Fakery? Or the power of discovering
your true identity,
and seeing the code of interconnectivity
and learning to find the balance
needed to survive within,
and transition seamlessly
between, the ever changing
worlds of the virtual and the real.

My Poem “Multicolored”

Everybody is an individual,
a person, a spectrum of many colours
throughout their life…
no one can help what body they are born into…
everybody constantly hopes to be able
to one day express themselves
in the way that they want to
without feeling abnormal and as if
who they are on the outside
is not meant to fit in with
how the world is, how it is meant to be,
and how it is meant to look…
no one has the right to be able
to tell anyone that they cannot
be who and what they want to be.

Music is life, life is music –
and people in all their many colours
and with all their individualistic
facets are who make the music of life
as rich as it is, and without all
the many pioneers of individualism
and the proponents of staying true
to what you believe
then the world as we know it would not exist.

The best of humanity, the icons of history
who will be revered forever,
the ground-breakers who knew
even before they learned how to talk
that they were special, different,
anomalous, and exceptional
because they saw the world
and the question posed to them
without the jadedness of a dark cloud
of preconceptions hanging over them –
they are the ones who have always been
responsible for giving our world
the gift of pure inspiration,
ingenuity, and innovation
in the many levels of every day life
that different people live upon.

The best stories ever written
are of extraordinary people
overcoming a stereotypical boundary
that ultimately leads everybody
who learns of their story
to be inspired and choose to emulate them
and follow in their footsteps…
I believe that if you are someone
who is “different” from everybody else
then you should feel proud…
monsters, trolls, and bullies are different
and they are treated differently –
which is why people who suffer
from being singled out
often plague others with the same toxicity
as they are daily exposed to.

In my opinion, if you are different
from everybody else then
you truly are “special”
in every sense of the word –
and I have always believed that
when you embrace you own
individual eccentricities
then you may find that you share
more with other people around the world
who already know who and what they are
and who choose to let the light of their
multicolored soul shine like
the constituents of depth
that give light to a star.

My Poem “New Horizons”

Every day, beginnings
and endings exist and play out
in parallel to one another:
on one side of the same world
one person can be looking
at the sun rising at the dawn of day,
while another can be looking up
at the moon and the stars
of the twilight hours of the night…
everybody lives in different worlds,
living different lives –
even people sitting three feet away
from one another, in the same cafe,
can be thinking, feeling, living,
and breathing in vastly different ways.

Everybody in their life has a path;
however, that does not mean
that the steps that need to be taken
in order to reach the place of potential
are always going to be straight
and easy to be traversed…
every day since the start of recorded
human history empires have fallen
and new dynasties have risen
to fill the vacuum left
when one piece of the tapestry of life
is cut away because it no longer
fits with the modern world that it exists within.

Without exception everybody,
at some point in their life,
has made multiple mistakes –
and often times everybody has to find
a way to adapt and to coexist
with the intentions, the actions,
and the waves of change caused
by people who influence the people of the world
through their words but who live
far removed and untouchable from those
whom they claim to speak for
often times from behind walls and gates
and in castles and in high-towers
which have a power-structure
that has existed for centuries
among many human societies around the world.

What is built must one day self-realize
that there will come a time
when the end is a necessary component
of reinvention, revitalization, renewal,
so that something can continue to be relevant
beyond the time of their prime –
and that goes for the people,
businesses, brands, and opinions
that have existed around the world…
every day there are new lives being born
and every instant there are new universes
coming into existence that are off-shoots
of other universes…
every moment there are things that happen,
there are things that are seen,
there are things and there are people
that change the world and open the windows
and the doors to brand new horizons.

My Poem “A Matter of Time”

There is a time for everything…
there is a reason for everything…
there is an answer for everything…
there is a purpose for everything,
for everyone, for the good, for the bad,
for the black, for the white,
for the left, for the right,
and there is always a fine line
between darkness and light
where both heroes and saviors
in all their forms live and breath,
where they are able to see,
hear, feel, and understand
the reason why things are
the way that they are
and why certain things
need to be what they need to be.

No two people are the same –
and that is an amazing thing…
no two stories are the same –
however every story shares
certain commonalities with one another
that bind them spiritually to one another
through a combination of degrees of separation.

No two hearts beat at the same rhythm,
no two minds are wired in the same way,
no two dreams are coloured in the same tone –
because every person is a walking, talking,
constantly communicating spirit
and a vessel that is constantly
changing and becoming something else,
somebody else, as they progress along
the path of the life, as they emit
and emanate their own light,
and as they race against time
to give reason, purpose,
and an answer to the question
of why they were born
and how the world has been effected
by their presence in it.

Life is not random –
it only appears as if it is sometimes,
because sometimes some things seen
to appear as if from out of nowhere…
poetry is life, and life is poetry…
darkness cannot exist without light –
and that is why every time I look up
to the stars of the night-sky
I am reminded that everything and everyone
is the matter of a particular place,
purpose, perspective, universe,
and the time that they find themselves within.

My Poem “The Art of The Act”

Every performer is a character…
everyone who performs on a stage,
on a screen, to a camera, to a microphone,
from a speaker has to adopt a persona…
every actor, every singer, every politician,
every comedian, every personality,
every person known for doing something
or for being somebody has to embody
a certain magic and emanate a certain gravity
in order to make their audience
fall under their spell…
everybody who has a gift
and who has this hunger within
to craft something of their own creation
and their own imagination
that they want to share with other people –
something that people like,
something that people understand,
something that people respond to
and empathize with – is an artist
with a heart and a soul deeper
than the deepest well…
everybody who plays at being someone
for a long time naturally has moments
when the character that they play
seeps into and starts to influence
the actions and the boards walked
by a performer during the moments
when they are being who they really are,
behind the mask of the character that they portray,
when they are doing the day to day
activities of real life…
every performer sometimes has moments
when they find it hard to see the dividing line
between one side of their personality and the others –
which can ultimately lead to moments when performers
look in the mirror and they ask themselves: who am I?
every performer wears a costume,
every performer has their own voice,
every performer longs to dive into a world
and be someone else – even if it is for a short time –
and every performer has their own back-story,
as well as the story that they tell themselves
within their mind which they are at the centre of…
every performer is a magician –
even if they do not directly advertise
that they perform magic…
every performer is an artist of an art…
every performer is constantly a student
and a teacher of those who follow them
and to those who they are walking
in the footprints of who are sometimes
so influential to a performer
that their performances are considered mythic…
every performer – no matter who they are –
in order to continue to do what they do
and to continue to love how they choose to live
often times have to play and practice at
being someone else and at having to act out
the performance at being the person
at the centre of the art their act.

My Poem “Never Forget A Face”

Some people are better at remembering names…
some people are better at remembering places…
some people are better at remembering numbers –
and then there are people, like me,
who are better at remembering faces
and at spotting the various distinguishable
features about a person…
once upon a time, people who had the innate gift
to be able to pick a face out of a line,
or a file of people, were sought-after –
however, in this day and age of the future,
the technology to be able to pick
a face out of a crowd has been invented
to catch the likeness of someone
and instantly reveal a person’s identity…
in years gone by, people used to take photographs
and collect them in photo-albums
to preserve the memory of something,
somebody, at some memorable point in time –
and though people still do take photographs
and collect them together into albums,
pictures taken now are mostly collected
and organised digitally…
remembering people used to be more of a tactile act,
paying tribute to someone used to be more like a pilgrimage –
but now that technology has made the world
relatively smaller, in a sense, and more connected,
people can easily reach out in some way
and talk to people far away directly and immediately…
technology has made communication between people
easier and more readily available,
and it has made it possible to share
what is on your mind with a countless number
of different people from all around the world –
even those who live and work in space…
however, I believe that no matter how
technologically advanced we become as a world
there will always be a need for those people
who have a natural talent about them
to do something amazing –
be it the ability to run fast,
the gift to be able to tell incredible stories,
the miracle to be able to write poetry
and make their own kind of music,
or the skill to be able to never forget a face.