My Poem “The Eyes of a Poet”

As the rain lashed down
on a cloudy day
I looked out the window
of the Diplomat cafΓ©,
as a bright blue tram car
glided passed upon the rails
of the tram railway –
and as I did I immediately
found myself experiencing
a wave of inspiration grow within me,
which I knew almost instantly
that I wanted to savour,
to save, and to capture
so that it may endure
in some profound way.

Writers and artists are always looking
for a place where they can create
unimpeded by the distractions
of the outside world –
especially when they are first
starting out upon their artistic journey;
personally, I try not to box myself
into the corner of a particular room
and declare that there is only
one place and one way,
where, when, and how,
I can express what I want to say.

Writers and artists are constantly
finding themselves creating art
at every time of the day
and wherever they find themselves
caught in the shower of
shooting stars of inspiration,
because what artists become inspired by
is ultimately in the hands of fate,
and over the years I have
randomly found myself –
while staring at a sunset,
while sitting in a movie theatre,
while staring at a masterpiece of art
by Vincent van Gogh or Leonardo da Vinci –
absolutely and unfathomably
in a state of complete mesmerism
in which I felt like I could access
deeper layers of connection, life,
and an understanding about the art
that I saw and the artist
responsible for creating
what ultimately turned out to be
that something that would inspire me.

Artists and writers
are always chasing that once
in a lifetime spark
of artistic creativity
that will excite and unify
every one of their senses
and their instincts
and that will perfectly combine
to make something special
that people will never forget –
and being an artist is sometimes
like walking a line,
like crossing borders,
and like discovering
and delivering a message…
being an artist and a writer
is sometimes like being some kind
of an envoy, a peacemaker, a diplomat,
and someone who can occasionally see –
when they can look at all
the multiple possibilities
of something simultaneously –
that things become increasingly
more clearer when you
take a step back from something,
while still looking at it
and while still internalizing it,
however while secretly interpreting it
by using the eyes of a poet.

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 “Mobile Inspiration”

I find that I do some of my best
writing while I am mobile…
I find that I am my most inspired
while I am traveling,
while I am looking out of a window
at somewhere, at something,
that instantly steals my mind away…
I find great inspiration when I am
above the clouds traveling at
the speed of sound looking down at the ground
and wondering who I am looking down upon
and who is looking up towards me…
I find that my thoughts sometimes
go on their own journey to somewhere else entirely
that cannot be reached physically,
and I wonder if this is what heaven feels like –
when our consciousness and our spirit
has become separated from our bodies
and we are able to float freely anywhere
we want like a boat on the surface of a sea…
I find myself experiencing something supernatural,
something comforting, something mesmerizing,
something enlightening, something wonderful,
while I am autonomous, free, travelling, and mobile.

My Poem “Transmute”

The essence of all art is to transmute…
the art of being an artist
is having the gift to be inspired by something,
to be transformed by something,
and to create something that elevates something
to a new level of understanding…
the spirit of everything changes as it grows
and as it interacts with all that nature creates
when it endeavors to carve out a brand new groove…
the one thing that is irrefutable about life
is that it is changeable, sometimes unpredictable,
and everybody’s short time to shine
is something that is mutual…
as everything and everybody grows
their voice changes, the biology changes,
their psychology changes, the spirituality changes –
because life, in a nutshell, is all about change
in so many ways – even the sky above changes twice a day
from black to blue, and from blue to black…
the universe is not the same as it was when it began,
and neither is anybody the same person
their whole life through –
and that is a good thing, because what would a universe,
a world, a seed, an insect, a flower, an animal,
a person be if they were unable to transmute?

My Poem “A place and a time”

A photographer capturing an artist,
capturing a place, capturing a moment of time…
A poet inspired by an artist,
inspired by the muse of life,
capturing the instant of a lifetime…
A gift shared, feelings painted,
high above and in view
of a carousel that you might expect to find
at a fun-fair,
an artist uses all the colours
of his heart and soul to imprint upon their canvas
a picture perfect miracle of creativity…
A place has an unique voice
that sometimes speaks to an artist…
An artist interprets and is inspired
by an experience and a moment
in ways that vary from person to person…
Sometimes a painting paints itself,
sometimes a poem writes itself,
sometimes a moment captures itself
and becomes a part of someone’s heart
and changes their life…
A moment can come and go in a flash –
however that is the most beautiful thing about life:
that it is finite…
and if you ask me and many others like me,
I and they would tell you that
every moment craves and calls out to be captured –
because every moment of time is a place,
and every place captured
is an infinite moment of time.