My Poem “The Resolute”

It is always important
to have a purpose in life…
it is always important
to have a constant in your life…
it is always important
to have a tenacious idea in your mind…
it is always important
to begin every new day
as if it were the last sunrise of your life…
it is always important
to be open-minded to the needs
and the feelings of other people,
because sometimes the greatest gift
that you can give to anyone is to be kind.

Kindness costs nothing…
being cared for is a wonderful feeling…
loving someone is the best part of living…
giving your time to someone
who just wants to talk about
the memories that they have made
is like standing in the light of the sun
and witnessing the resurfacing
of an energy within someone
that is nothing but rejuvenating.

Every second of every minute
of every hour of every year
I remain hopeful and optimistic
about the future, about this world,
about humanity, and about myself –
because, to me, there is no other way to be…
resolutions come and resolutions go,
resolutions are made in good faith,
and sometimes resolutions have to be
left behind when the road of life gets rough.

As I have lived I have learned
that you have to adapt to unplanned circumstances
and go with the flow of energy
that you find yourself within,
especially when you believe
that you have nothing to lose…
resolutions are like dreams…
sometimes in this life
you have got to make the first move –
so, in this life, be bold, be spirited,
be unshakable, be dedicated, be resolute,
and there is no telling
where you will go and what you will do.

Advertisements

My Poem ‘Somnabulists’

Sometimes when we fall asleep,
as we cross the threshold into dreams,
we instantly wake up…
most of the time,
when we recall what ran through our mind
over the course of the night before
we remember the middle and the end of a dream,
but not the start…
some people live out their hopes
and some people live out their fears
when they walk the streets
of the world of forty-winks…
for some people dreaming of another place
and another time is a welcome escape…
some dreams dreamed are a nightmare
from beginning to end,
while others you want to continue having
for the rest of your life
because they are filled
with so much that you love…
dreamers draw on so much when they dream –
from their life, from their soul,
from their senses, from the joys, and from the sadness
that everybody has within their heart…
learning how to dream
and learning how to live
and breath within a dream
is harder to achieve than some might think…
when we dream, we submit…
when we dream, we let go…
when we dream we all become
a part of the universes oldest myth…
when we dream we give up our control
over our own mind and our own
imagination-engine and we allow
our thoughts and our secrets
to merge into one and just flow –
like a waterfall, like a river,
adding to the infinite depth that has no end,
that often spills out into the waking-world
and is sometimes caught by a camera-lens…
everybody dreams differently, at different times,
and sometimes in different colours…
everybody sees the physical world
and the dream-world from a different perspective,
and their dreams reflect that…
every animal, every bird,
every angel, every man, woman, boy, and girl,
learn vital lessons and they confront
internal manifestations
of real-world obstacles and desires –
and that is at the centre
of dreaming and dreams,
and it is what gives dreams their power…
our dreams are our place
to filter through our thoughts and our memories,
and sometimes the steps that we take
within a dream our physical body
re-enacts in the real-world –
and when that happens,
in both dreams and in life,
we all become sleepwalkers.

My Poem ‘The World of My Stories’

A person’s life is filled with different characters;
a person’s world is filled with many horizons;
a person’s life can be organized and thought of
as like a book of interconnected chapters;
a person’s view of the world changes over time
as they live, experience, and grow older –
and, from my perspective, I am so glad
for the life that I have had and still have,
because my life is a trove of golden-moments
and a limitless garden of inspirational memories
and musings that thrive and infuse
the palette of my writing,
because there is so much in abundance.

Just as every solar-system has a star at its centre,
the world of my poetry and stories too has a sun
that it revolves around and gives it gravity
and keeps it spinning;
just as every planet has a combination of gases
that make up its atmosphere,
the world where my ideas are born from
has all that is needed to keep my internal world
alive and its creations breathing, living, and evolving.

Worlds are built over time
and of many components and ingredients;
over a life-time, and while writing a story,
there is a constant preoccupation
to find truth, sense, and balance;
some worlds can be vast, and some worlds can be small –
expanding and contracting, depending on a person’s
state of mind and their environment;
over time we all collect many things in many ways –
however, it isn’t until you start thinking about
writing a story of your own that you realize
that even the smallest of things
can be among that which is the most important.

Usually, the idea for a new story comes to me like a dream;
for the most part, what a story will be about
when I am writing one all depends and is centered upon
something I have felt or something I have seen;
when I first begin writing a story
it is like I am learning to walk again
and not worrying too much about or counting my steps;
when I get into a story and I have fully found my footing
and I know where my story is going
it is then that I race towards its ending
without fear of losing my breath.

I love writing stories –
however, to me, writing a story
is like running a marathon;
to me writing poetry is like going on a sprint
through the green and blue world of my head –
and it is while writing poetry
that I get to let my imagination go wild,
and I get to sometimes write what I see;
writing a story is like creating and making
something that to you is a labour of time and love;
I am a writer, and more than anything I love to write –
however, I sometimes feel like to describe
what I see when I look within
there could never be enough words,
and it is then that I wish I could find a way
to show people what lies within me
and take them on a tour
around the world of my stories.

My Poem ‘Special Education’

A student is only as good
as the teacher who teaches them;
a teacher’s true gift
is giving their student a reason to listen;
everyone is a student all their life;
every parent is the greatest teacher,
idol, role-model, and inspiration
of their child.

Teaching can be easy for the knowledgeable;
learning can be hard for the slow;
inspiring someone can be incredible;
understanding is like hearing a song
that you can’t stop listening to
after you hear it playing on the radio.

The best lessons are based on first-hand experience;
the greatest thing that you can give someone
is encouragement and confidence;
the best story-teller is an artist;
the greatest person you could ever know
is the one whom you both love and trust.

Learning can be addictive;
watching can be hypnotizing;
listening can be relative;
a perfect ending is that much more amazing
because it is the sum
of all the experiences
that were essential
in building that which grew
over time to mean everything.

We all need a reason to reach;
we all need a push when we all know
we need to make a jump;
we all need a strong foundation in the beginning,
and to preserve our own living identity
the up-and-coming next generation
need to know that it is not a crime
to let your imagination run free;
no matter what anyone tells you,
you know more and you can do more
than you realize,
and there has never been a question
that has ever been asked that was ever dumb.

What next? for a student is the best question;
Where now? for a teacher is like igniting
the fuel within the engine of a vessel of exploration;
Why? is capable of grabbing anyone’s attention;
With whom? can be all the difference,
and paying attention to the right person
at the right time can be the first lesson
to learn from in anyone’s version
of “special education”.

My Poem ‘Children of Tomorrow’

Children always adapt to change quicker;
learning new things to a child is always easier;
children are always asking questions
in search of answers –
sometimes even from strangers;
there is no one as braver as a child,
because to them there is no such thing as danger.

Even though I am slowly growing up
I still share the same fascination
and the same keen interest in the world
and in people as I did when I was a boy;
I can still remember who I was –
what I saw, what I thought,
what I heard, what I felt –
and when I hear a child of today
ask the same questions as I did
when I was younger it fills me with joy.

A city is like a playground to a child;
to a child all the different people
and everyone’s amazing eccentricities
are both wonderful and confusing
at varying times of a given hour;
a city is like being on a great adventure,
when a child is with their parents
and guardians, and to them
it is like being out in the wild;
to a child in a city
every skyscraper is like a magical tower.

The sights and sounds of the world
echo louder and are more profound to a child
than to the ears of an adult;
as we grow older our minds and our hearts
become filled with so many memories,
feelings, and emotions that sometimes
only serve to distract you
from seeing the wonders of the world;
adults are constantly comparing,
where as children never stop seeing,
imagining, and dreaming.

Children know what it means to be alive,
and they never waste a moment to let it show;
a child knows things that some adults have forgotten
and unfortunately no longer understand and know;
children – in body, mind, and spirit –
constantly crave to be on the go;
oh what I wouldn’t give to be a child of today
and one of the lucky children of tomorrow!

My Poem ‘Hard Rain’

It’s never too late
to learn something new;
it’s never going to be the case
that you are going to know
everything about everyone;
it is at times when you are not
expecting anything to come to light
that you invariably learn something
you never knew;
it’s never too late to ask questions
and get answers that make your thoughts
just want to run and run.

Music has always been important to me,
and to my family, for as long as I can remember,
since long before I was even born;
music has always had the key
to unlock the door into our soul;
however, it wasn’t until just recently
that I learned from my Dad
that he had once been a ‘roadie’
in the 1970’s for a rock-band,
and I am still enthralled and in awe
because (yet again) my Dad has surprised me
with an interesting and inspiring insight into him
which I love to learn and hear stories
told to me about –
because, to me, it just makes my Dad even more cool.

Hearing my Dad tell me how he used to help
transport and set up the equipment
of the band ‘Hard Rain’ –
a group that I had never heard of before –
I was inspired within seconds;
hearing my Dad reflect and remember
times that he enjoyed, as always,
brought a smile to my face
and made me feel emotions
that no one else could possibly understand.

As a child, I remember us as a family
having musical instruments around us:
a recorder, a keyboard, an organ,
an electric-guitar, an acoustic-guitar,
that my Dad used to play and strum
a song and a tune exquisitely with –
even now, my Dad knows more songs
and can sing every word of his favourite band,
‘The Beatles’, and he knows the deep meaning
within those magical lyrics,
and he has been moved by them
on more than one occasion – as have I –
and each song, and each piece of music,
I know when I hear them now,
are nothing short of amazing and incredible poetry.

I have always wanted to play an instrument,
write a song, come up with a melody,
bring my words and my inner music to life,
so that the whole world can hear it;
I have always wanted to take my poetry
and make my imagination and words
shine like no other poet;
I have always wanted to give something
back to people, and the world,
for reasons that I can’t fully explain;
I have always been someone
with a great eye and a great ear,
and, to me, seeing and hearing
as much as can be seen and heard
is a gift we are all born with –
and if you are someone creative,
or if you are someone who just
wants to be a part of something in some way,
then I can honestly say
that I too am there with you
in that want to be touched and changed,
and to remain connected to,
what makes my heart beat so long and so thunderous
as the music of hard rain.

My Poem ‘The Prolific’

Learning how to write
is like learning how to walk –
finding your voice,
and finding your rhythm of speech,
is like when you discover
that you have the gift to be able to talk;
seeing things and allowing them to inspire you
sounds easy when someone says it,
but, for everyone, it takes a while to make a connection
between what you are seeing
and why it is so inspiring –
even for a published one of a kind prolific poet;
the gift to be able to stand upright without falling over
is all about finding your own balance,
and writing is like that too:
the idea, the thought, the growth, the detail,
the quintessential individual identity
that every writer and artist has
all proliferates and shows
in whatever they are creating.

Beethoven played, heard, and made,
entire symphonies in his mind –
he knew sound and music so well,
and he had the most virtuosic command
and knowledge of instruments,
that he didn’t need to hear a thing,
because he was a prodigy;
Shakespeare spent entire morning and nights
in Winters and Summers,
crafting, staging, and writing,
the most epic, incredible, phenomenal,
plays and timeless stories the world has ever seen,
read, or heard, that will continue to inform
the entire world for eons to come –
however, during the days
when he was not as well known as he is today,
in the days in which he lived,
William Shakespeare was not thought of as highly
and spoken of with as much esteem,
as he is now: I, however, believe
that Shakespeare’s first love,
and the thing that made him the most happy,
was his sonnets and everything that he said
and expressed through poetry.

When I first began writing poetry,
I used to perhaps write a poem a week –
and then I only shared what I wrote
with a small group of friends;
as expressing my thoughts,
and writing them down in the form of a poem,
became more and more important to me,
I started to write more and share more regularly;
when I realized that instead of writing something
once a week for someone, I was now writing twice a week,
every other day, and then every day,
I knew that writing, especially my poetry,
was no longer just a past-time for me –
it was a passion, a way of life,
a journey that had no end,
and every time I write a poem now
I cannot ever shake the feeling within me, of me,
that makes me happy, when I am writing my poetry.

There are some words that are sometimes over-used,
however there are only some words that could ever express
what something means to you at a particular moment:
love, amazing, awesome, special, epic;
but when I use a word,
when someone uses a words to describe me,
I can tell you that the reason I am using a particular word
is indescribably heartfelt and true –
because words mean a lot to me,
and I use them with great care and attention,
as a poet or a writer should;
and as an artist who knows their art
like the back of the hand,
and who thinks of themselves,
and who people often describe them as being,
in my opinion, is one of the best things
anyone could ever be, or be called:
someone who is wonderfully ‘prolific’.