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My Poem “Park People”
Parks are wonderful places... Parks are beautiful oases... Parks are where people run and walk through... Parks are can be islands of every size where people sit, exercise, get a sun tan, have a party, or have a picnic, and where people who know each can all gather together to enjoy their own company as well as consume thirst quenching beverages and some of their favourite food. Parks are also the places where those who are homeless go to every night to lay down upon the grass and sleep... Parks are where people young and old can rejuvenate themselves and be reminded of memories and experiences that they will always want to keep... Parks can have amusements, rides, sights and sounds that cannot be found anywhere else on Earth... Parks can be where things are lost as well as where things can be found - and Parks can also be at both the beginning as well as at the end of a particular search. Parks often have benches... Parks often have plants and animals that people can make a connection with with all five of their senses... Parks are where some people want to be laid to rest after they die... Parks all have paths that allow the people who visit them to navigate through to them from every side... Parks are for everything and for everybody and the importance of their preservation to all life on Earth is unestimable - but there are those who may not be able to enjoy nature as much as they would hope, and then their are those who take every opportunity, whenever they can, to embrace every moment that they get to embody what it means and to be someone who might affectionately describe themselves, or might perhaps be described as being, one of the many "Park People".
My Poem “The Blackout”
One second there was light
and the next there was darkness…
One second all was bright
and the next I couldn’t see
my hand in front of my face…
One second I was looking at
my phones illuminated screen
and the next I was using the torch
of my phone to guide my way…
One second the sun was shining
and the next it had completely
disappeared below the horizon
heralding the end of the day.
I still remember those days
and those nights when I was a child
when the power used to go out
every now and again –
but whenever it happens now
it is always a complete and utter surprise
to the degree that some people
still attempt to flick light-switches
on and off multiple times
perhaps believing that they can cause
somekind of electrical reset.
It’s strange looking out of the window
at night and seeing all the streetlights off…
it’s odd having no power, no light,
and no heat for a short amount of time –
but such an experience does make you truly appreciate how much we all
do sometimes take for granted
the gift of instant electricity,
and how much when we do not have it
at out disposal some of us feel immediately lost.
When the lights come on again,
when the TV screens flicker back to life,
and when we no longer have any further need
for the torches and the candles that we
had lit as temporary sources of light,
we all feel thankful to be able
to see clearly and to feel comfortable
once again in our world of modern enlightenment
that for a time had been taken away from us
by the inconvenience of a brief
but significant neigbourhood blackout.
My Poem “Equinox”
Life feels like we have truly arrived
at a moment between light and dark…
life feels like we are transitioning
between two states of being…
after all that has happened this year,
after we have all sacrificed
and after how far we have all come,
life feels as if it is in a state of resistance –
because humanity feels like it is
stuck in a game of tug of war with itself
and with a nemesis they cannot see clearly.
Life in some shapes and places is continuing
regardless of everything else –
as they always have done –
while some individuals fear that
they have reached a point of no return
and everything that happens next
with be irrevocable, and the pain
that will be felt will cut deep.
Life on planet Earth has been shook
profoundly by what has occurred this year…
life will never again be the same as it was…
life is subjective and based upon
the personal perspective of an individual
at a specific here and a specific now.
Life has been though dark times before;
however, after every era of profound change,
nature teaches all things that they need
to find a way to adapt to the circumstances
and the surroundings that they find
themselves in and to do their best
to find a balance that they may have lost –
and there is no better time to be
a shining example of phenomenal
strength and fortitude than right now,
at this moment of equinox.
My Poem “Painting by Numbers”
The sun shines during the day…
the sky flashes during the night…
the heat is too much for some
people to take that they have to
spend most of their time
sitting in the shade…
within the dark clouds above
storms rage and echo the unparalleled
power of nature’s electricity
that manifests itself in the form
of both light and sound,
occasionally frenetically.
The summer months are usually
defined by the colours that are
seen emanating all around…
during the summer months
people usually take their time
to seek out a particular place
that they hope, or may already know,
will be somewhere special,
memorable, hopeful, and profound.
When painting a picture of the world
that they see, some people like to use
examples of other things
to compare their vision to,
for example: when someone sees
a beautiful person who is perfect
to them in every way, they may
compare them to a flower,
such as a daisy or a rose –
and in doing so they are
knowingly, or accidentally,
speaking in the language of poetry…
art, in its infinite forms, is an expression
of an artist who wishes to give
an example of who they are,
what they are, and what drives their heart
to share the story of something,
somewhere, or someone,
so powerfully, and yet so effortlessly
as if they were painting by numbers.
My Poem “Eyes”
I wonder how many people realise
that when they are staring into
another person’s eyes
that they are not only looking at
the windows into a person’s soul
but they are also seeing the most
external part of that person’s brain
which is constantly relaying multiple images
at the speed of light down the optic nerve
of each eye to the part of the brain
responsible for making decisions
and stimulating many simultaneous
reactions as a result,
and it is also true that you can tell
a lot about a person’s health
and their lifestyle by watching
the way that the iris of someone’s eye
moves, dilhilates, focuses and flickers –
and I think the fact that our eyes
have such a direct connection to
the way our brain operates,
the thoughts that we have,
and the storm of chemicals that
bubbles up within us perfectly
symbolises
why it is important to take care of your eyes
because they are vital in more ways
that some people might realise.
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.
markthepoet.me 