My Poem “The Last Word”

Where would we be without language?
Where would we be without a way to communicate
and share what we want to say?
Where would we be without the ability
to express ourselves?
Where would we be without the means
to learn, to interpret, to understand,
to create, to make, to give something,
or someone, a voice to be heard?

The first word spoken by someone
is always a magical moment worth remembering…
the first time the sound that someone makes
can be understood by someone else
is always wonderful to behold…
the first instance that someone achieves something
is always worth celebrating and recording…
the first thing that someone thinks about
and reaches for after they awaken
speaks volumes about what matters to them
and what they treasure as preciously as gold.

Some people love to meet and talk to new people,
because it gives them an opportunity
to engage with someone on a personal level,
and also to make a connection
that they always feel empowered by…
some people find it hard to speak and to be heard,
because for some reason something within them
always tells them to stay quiet
and not call too much attention to themselves -
while those on the opposite end of the spectrum
are always looking for an opportunity
to get their point across
and to get their own way of thinking
and doing things recognized by others as
the most valuable and important.

Everybody always has someone
who they respect and return to
and could listen to whatever they said
for hours on end because they are such
an amazing and entrancing source of knowledge,
information, energy, and joy -
but who would never admit to being
amongst the wisest of individuals in the world…
some people are generally interested in all aspects
and in all the multiple colours and shades of life -
while some people only really care about
what they think is relevant;
some people are generous in so many ways
and they like to give others exactly
what they can see that they need,
including: their time, their attention,
as well as the space to make the first move
in confiding a long and deeply held truth -
while there are those people who are unwilling to
accommodate the other side of a story
and will not give up on their own narrative
and opinion of something even after being presented with facts and evidence to the contrary;
however, there are always those people
who always like to be the centre of attention -
who not only have to have the first word in every conversation,
but also the last word as well.

The Storyteller: The Last Word

The Last Word” is a poem taken from Mark’s 2025 poetry collection ‘The Storyteller‘ – now available to purchase in hardback and as an ebook from Amazon.

Listen on Apple Podcasts and read a transcript.

My Poem ‘When I die’

I am sorry you are reading this now,
I wish I were alive to say this in person-
however, where I am, I do not think that
personal eulogies by those who have died are allowed;
so this is me planning for the inevitable, as always,
leaving another part of me for my friends
(who were my friends),
and for my family, for my parents-
to whom, I will always be their son.

No matter how things turned out,
no matter when, where, and how I died,
things in my life, throughout my life,
felt like and made me feel turned inside-out-
but I had a great life,
I had a wonderful life,
I had an inspiring life,
I had a blessed life,
I had a mostly-happy life-
so I ask anyone who reads this
who remembers anything about me to not cry.

There were times in my life
when I absolutely could not believe my eyes;
there were times growing up
when I was the happiest that anyone of any age
could ever be;
there were times as a teenager
when I was lucky to see each and every beautiful sunrise;
there were times as an adult
when I was never happier
than when I was laughing and joking
with my amazing sister Clare-
talking, and being in the same room,
and loving every second of being with both of our parents;
and of course spending time with inspiring friends;
and of course trying to write inspirational poetry.

I am not about to die-
at least I don’t think so.
I have considered, and I am considering,
what lies beyond death,
and what awaits us all.
I am not going to lie,
I am not in any hurry to give up on life-
just so you know;
but I am writing this poem,
because I want the last words
that people remember me by to be my own;
I want people who know me
to have a copy of this poem,
and to read it and think about me,
when they are alone and cry tears of happiness,
not sadness;
I want people to constantly be saying hello to me,
at the same time that they are saying goodbye.
I want to say that I hope to see you soon
in another life, and I hope that you will never forget me,
and I hope that this poem will keep on gifting you my presence,
in my poetry, in your life,
when I die.