My Poem ‘Be’

Somebody amazing,
beautiful, wonderful,
and inspiring recently said something
that I have been meaning to share…
a message, a motto, words to live by:
“Be You. Be Happy. Love Always.”
and “Don’t Let Anyone Get You Down” –
a gift of words, a talisman of protection,
a broadcast of hope, an optimistic way
of looking at the world,
and something that means more
than even the person who wrote
and shared this short, but powerful,
message could ever imagine.

Some things come and go so fast
within the snap of a finger,
while others endure long into the future…
dreams are made, dreams fade,
and then dreams drift-away,
to one day be captured
and dreamed again by a different person,
in a different way, on a different day…
real-life choices leave traces of themselves,
like a name written in wet-cement,
and they return to the forefront of your mind
whether you are sleeping or awake…
very few people in this world
have touched the heart of so many –
but it is not how forceful you say something
that gives a message its power,
and it is more than how strong
what words you build your message out of
that makes them so quotable and repeatable…
some times it is who is saying something
that means more than how they are saying it.

The most fragile people in this world
are also sometimes the strongest people
you will ever meet in your life…
the most caring people
are those who sleep the least
because they are too busy worrying
about the happiness of others
every hour of every day and night…
if you want to know what are
the most important ingredients
to ensure a happy and long life,
I have learned that they are:
to be yourself, to never stop loving,
and to never let anybody get you down –
and if you can do those things
then you will not believe
what you will find
and what will follow you everywhere you go,
and whatever the time of the day happens to be…
see it… believe it… feel it…
and all that you truly need will come to be.

Inspired by this tweet:

My Poem ‘Poet’s Fire’

There have always been poets…
there has always been poetry…
there have always been optimists…
there has always been a fire
of inspiration and curiosity,
even before the first apple
was picked from the tree of knowledge…
there will always be mysteries…
there will always be love…
there have always been those
who have sought out answers to questions
from one kind of divine being
or another over the many centuries…
there has always been sources of light –
both internal and external,
both within a person’s heart
or in the sky above.

A poet is like a mirror,
poetry is like a reflection…
a poet is who brings out
the emotions from within,
poetry is the spell
of a linguistic-magician.

Children paint poetic pictures
with their fingertips…
adults can emote poetry
with their eyes…
children read poetry
in the actions of their friends
and they hear poetry
from the lips of their parents…
both adults and children
inspire poetry all the time –
enough to make someone smile,
or enough to make someone cry.

Many flames make a burning furnace…
many words make a world…
many memories make a life…
many things make us feel inspired…
many experiences only poetry can make sense…
many forms of literature
can also be a life-saving cure…
many poetic dreams are born
under starlit night-skies…
many every-day influences
keep alive the light, the heat,
the flames, the energy,
and the poetry of a poet’s fire.

My Poem ‘Nomad’

You may see me passing by…
you may see me sitting at a table,
looking out of a window…
you may see me writing away
into a notebook with a smile on my face…
you may see me stop what I am doing,
look up, and make a sigh…
you may see me and mistakenly think
that I am alone…
you may see me, you may think you know me –
however, while you are looking at me,
I am somewhere else:
I could be imagining that I am a gunslinger
in the old-west of America,
or an astronaut on a star-ship
travelling and on my way
to exploring the wonders
that I imagine there is to be found
in the outer-reaches of deep-space.

I love to wander…
I love to go somewhere I have never been…
I love to explore…
I love to see things I have never seen…
you can’t beat family,
familiarity, and being home –
but, there is so much to be found
when you venture into the unknown.

By now, traveling is in my blood…
having lived a life since I was born
of unbounded-freedom,
it is natural for me to want to leap
into whatever sky I see when I look above…
every road you travel down
as a traveler is different –
some are smooth, some can be rough…
imagining the infinite possibilities of existence
has always been an exciting past-time of mine
that I will always love.

Some might say I am brave…
some might say I am crazy…
some might say I am mad –
however, I don’t think I am brave,
and I don’t think I am crazy…
but, if I was asked to describe myself in words,
I guess I would have to describe myself
as an always inspired nomadic writer.

My Poem ‘The Morning Person’

I wake up even before the sun has risen;
I am thinking about the day ahead,
while others are still dreaming;
I am there to witness a divine sight
every time I open my eyes
and I watch the sunrise,
and I feel with every beat of my heart
as it races that I am here for a reason;
I see hope in the daylight,
and in the blue sky that follows
I see a beautiful purpose
being reflected back like a mirror…
as one half of the world says “goodnight”
and the other says “good morning”.

I reveal my true colours
when I imagine and I am inspired…
I see the universe’s path for me
when something occurs to me
that I had not thought of or considered before…
I wish I could help people see
that each and every one of us
is the beholder of,
as well as in constant orbit of,
a life-giving and life-changing fire…
I wish every-thing and everyone
had the instinct to share
all the gifts that Earth blesses us with every day –
and there would be no greed, no hunger,
no richer, no poorer.

I thrive and I feel energized
by the light and the bright
of a beautiful morning;
I have stayed up through the night,
and I have been shrouded by the dark of the night
and I have walked under the silver shimmer of moonlight;
I love a night-owl dearly –
however, to me, it is not after the sun has set
that the dream-world that awaits me starts calling;
I am the one who listens to every solemn sound
that only slightly breaks the silence
of a new day’s dawn, and who looks for,
and who sees more –
however, that is just me…
I cannot help myself from being a “morning person”
who smiles at the instant that I see
the first breath-taking burst of daylight
and the golden flash
that is our sun’s magical star-light.

My poem ‘A world of poetry’

People sitting in the sun;
people on the phone;
people having some time alone;
people, a family sitting down
and having a picnic for their lunch…
Birmingham, Victoria Square –
June 9th, 2016, 12.04pm…
I am sitting here
basking in sunlight
with my notebook and pen
capturing a moment of time
with words that are inspired
from this moment of inspiration…
I am looking out and seeing
every kind of person –
tourists, friends, business people,
artists, sun-worshippers, and many more –
and at every instant
I am almost blinded by fascination.

A sudden breeze decreases the temperature,
the sun becomes less intense
because of a momentary overhead cloud-cover…
a sudden realisation of time
motivates everyone to move again with a purpose…
and then another sudden burst of energy
gives everybody a gift of focus.

A falling white feather,
as if an angel had left behind a token of heaven…
I sit, I watch, I see, I feel
a wave of something indescribable engulf me…
I see, I watch, a world of poetry…
I feel connected to everything…
I feel the world moving…
I feel like I have just taken
a bite from the fruit of the first tree…
I have always known
that poetry is the world,
and the world is poetry.

My Poem ‘V’

Our lives are stories
within an epic and ever-evolving,
ever-changing, ever-continuing poem
that started at the moment
that the universe began;
my own life has changed over time –
as I have grown, experienced,
thought, and felt, the world
and everybody whom I have met
has contributed into making me
who I am now at every turn;
we are more free to be who we want to be
when we are young and when we know nothing
about the need of adults to make plans;
I always knew that I had an energy
and a passion within myself –
however, it is only since I began
writing poetry and stories
that I have felt as if I were able
to allow the inspired fire
within my heart to burn.

I can still remember
the first poem I ever wrote;
I can still recall
where I was when I started
to put together the poems
and the pages and the images
of my first book;
I can still feel what it was like
when I knew that I had a gift
and that I could use words
to express my feelings
like a musician makes music
by playing notes;
I can still sit, stare,
and hold my pen and my notebook
in my hand and relive
the experience of inspirations magic touch.

Every time that I unveil
a new poetic-offspring of mine,
to me it is like seeing
the face of your own child smile
for the first time;
every time I start writing
and the words flow
and come fast like the water
of a raging-river,
the light and the energy
that binds everything together
starts to shimmer;
every time I am inspired
I can feel something inside of me
fighting to break free of me
and explode like a cannon;
every time of every writing
of a new poem is like witnessing
the golden light of an unending dawn.

I still have to pinch myself
to believe how lucky I am;
I still have to look in the mirror
and marvel at all that I have seen,
all that I have experienced,
and all that I remember from my life;
I still have to find a way every day
to use the power of what I know,
but that which other people
might not at first understand;
I still have to daily accept
the awesome feeling of pride that I feel
in myself at all that I have personally achieved
and done – especially when I flick through
and I re-read and remember
all the poems that I have written
that have been published in my books…
I still find it incredible to believe
that not only do I have one book
of my poetry and stories published –
but, in fact, instead of one,
as I write this, I am looking at the cover
of book number five.

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My Poem ‘The Man in Blue’

Where to start, how to begin;
the first time is always the most memorable,
like the first time that you see a shooting star;
the first time for everyone is always different
for everything – however, just as seas settle,
and nerves turn into waves of excitement,
after that first time of complete and utter
scarily real reality grasping you
by the heart and taking your breath away…
something amazing happens,
something exciting rises in you
like an internal sun,
something makes sense
beyond words could ever explain.

Anyone can begin anything;
some things have a time limit,
and some things don’t;
anyone can capture the essence of a feeling,
and if you truly do not want a feeling
or a time to fade there is always a way
to make sure that it won’t.

There are some people
who read the last page of a book
before they ever read the first;
there are some people
who come into something
at the end and work their way back;
there are some people
who believe they are cursed;
there are some people
whose first word in life
is also their last.

As I have lived,
as I have grown,
as I have breathed deep
and ventured far from home,
I have seen things beyond my wildest dreams,
I have met the most beautiful angel of Earth
that I have ever seen,
I have been inspired,
I have walked through fire,
I have found a reason to live,
I have discovered that in life
it doesn’t matter where you are –
what matters the most
is who you are with.

We are all people of colour;
we all wear the shades of ourselves proudly,
because we consciously or sub-consciously
want to tell people “this is me”;
we are all exhibitionists, in our own way –
even if we do not always choose
to be the first one to show
our dance-moves on a dance-floor;
we all have some idea
of who and what we would like to be.

There are some offers
that you simply cannot refuse;
there are some people
who you could never say no to;
there are some colours
that no matter what
will always look good on you;
there are some who focus
on the little things in life
and the continued happiness of the few;
there are some people who are just like me…
and just like everyone has their favourite colour,
and in every way embodies
the empathetic qualities of their favourite colour,
I am definitely quintessential
man in blue.

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