My Poem “The Comet”

As I watched the bright tail
of the comet streak overhead
I began to imagine all of the things
that had to have happened
since the creation of the universe,
since the disk of our galaxy came together,
since the formation of planet Earth,
and since the origin of humanity,
and how everybody and everything
has always been surrounded by
the darkness of space,
all the little things
and all of the big things
that had to combine to make up
the tale of everything –
and no matter the absence of colour that I see
I continue to smile because I know
that there are stars and there are nebulae
out there in the cosmos of the universe
that are like oases of light
and like gardens of life
which are composed of streams of matter
and energy that twist like ribbons
as they ripple like the waves of an ocean,
where stars are being born
every second that our world turns,
that are an example of how something
is always happening somewhere
in places where wonders beyond
the wildest of dreams are being realized –
and as I stare at the bright halo
and the streaking tale of the out
of this world interstellar snowball
I wonder how many other people
have seen this same remnant of
the beginning of the solar system
over the centuries since the journey
began for this particular comet.

My Poem ‘Poetry or Truth’

Poetry has the softest of voices,
but the loudest of echoes;
truth, just as beauty,
is in the eye of the beholder;
poetry speaks and always knows;
truth is the voice within
that is tempted to life
by the whispers of the light and the dark
as if personified by a good fairy
and a bad fairy sitting either side of your ears
resting upon your shoulders;
poetry is natural;
truth is often accidental;
poetry is limitless;
truth returns trust.

A traveler is always chasing light and time;
a detective is always chasing
the perpetrator of a crime;
two lovers are constantly in a dance with each other;
two sides of anything
always share an edge that binds them together.

When an astronaut on a space-station awakes
and they float from their bed to the nearest window,
all they want to look out and see
is the planet they orbit
and the vibrant sphere of light and colour
that looks as precious as a raindrop on a leaf;
when we all look up at the stars,
those who live among the stars
are constantly looking back at us;
when someone dies and we lay a wreath
we promise to never forget them,
even while they rest in the ground beneath;
when shooting-stars fly by
they shower us all with their interstellar magic dust.

Poetry or truth –
in my mind they are one and the same;
just as a coin is a token of currency with two faces,
dualities are how life is maintained;
truth can always be read in poetry,
and poetry writes of hidden worldly-clues;
true meaning is at the heart of everything
and it becomes even more apparent
when you ponder the question:
poetry or truth?

My Poem ‘The Outer Limits’

Ever since the first astronomers of Earth
looked up at the sky to the stars and the planets,
humanity has been asking questions of themselves
about their relevance and about just how rare
and important they are within the universe;
humanity has been searching the galaxy and beyond
for a signal from another galactic inhabitant,
and even to this day there are those
who openly proclaim that because we have not yet
made contact with another form of intelligent life
in the Milky Way that we are the superior species
to be found anywhere, and that Earth is and could only be
the only inhabited world.
When I look above, I can almost hear the call
of a fellow interstellar searcher
and the beating heart of a fellow poet of the stars
being inspired by their muse
and taken away in mind, spirit, and soul,
to their imagination outer-limit.

We here on Earth know only too well
that feeling of awe and intrigue
that we feel when we see photographs
being returned to Earth from man-made probes
of distant worlds – that we have all known about
and heard about, but which have never been seen before;
we all experience sheer breathtaking amazement
whenever something happens above us and around us
that may only happen once in a lifetime;
when we watch a rocket launch,
or when we witness the first footsteps
and impressions made by someone or something
on an unknown and undiscovered brand new land,
we all return to the memory of when we were a child
making an airplane out of folded paper
and watching it be carried on the wind, and sour;
we, I, always go ten steps beyond
when the thought of what and who could be out there,
in the dark, on their own planet, imagining us,
as we imagine them, and what just the knowledge
of each others’ existence would mean
and would do to the thoughts
and to the dreams of the others’ mind.

Every form of life is special and unique;
every planet orbiting around every star
is like the integral and unmissable
musical notes of a galactic symphony
that have their own vibration and sound to them,
that when heard playing with the rest
of the interstellar musical instruments and keys,
as well as on their own, sound nothing short of perfect;
everything that happens in space
is always a spectacle to us all here on Earth,
even if it is the sight of a fly-by by a passing comet.

Being a poet, I naturally look at life
and the universe slightly differently
to how someone else might see it –
however, I believe that everyone can see
inspiring wonders and they can be inspired
to take a trip of discovery
into an exciting new frontier,
and explore the amazing mysteries and questions
that drive us all when and if
we choose to step into the realm
of the outer limits.