love
A Poem A Day #426: That Which Matters Most
My Poem “World’s Best Dad”
There was no one like my Dad... there is no one like my Dad, and there never will be anyone like him... my Dad was the kindest, my Dad was the most giving, my Dad was the most generous, my Dad was the most loving man there ever was, and because of who he was those who were fortunate to know him and to have met him could never forget him... my Dad was one of a kind... my Dad was always thinking about others and doing things for others... my Dad had the most amazing smile and he had the most hypnotizing and the most beautiful bright-blue eyes... my Dad woke up every morning, he looked out his bedroom window as the sun began to rise, and though at times it was a struggle for him because of what life had put him through, he got up and put one foot in front of the other and he effortlessly was the best friend, the best brother, the best husband, the best father the world has ever known... my Dad was there for me all my life... my Dad will always be my greatest source of inspiration, strength, and he will always be my hero... my Dad and I shared so much together - but I would give anything to have more time with him, to do more things with him, to talk to him and to hear him say to me: "Do your best" - which was something that he used to say to me and which will always stay with me every day from morning till night... life will never be the same again, but not a day will go by when I will not think of my Dad, when I will not miss my Dad, when I will not love my Dad, when I will not do my best for my Dad; but, to be honest, I know, and I can feel, that he is still with me, that he is still with us - because he was the best man there ever was and I am the luckiest son ever to have had the world's best Dad.
A Poem A Day #424: My God Father
A Poem A Day #420 – #423
In Memory of My Dad…
A Poem A Day #419: The Deep Blue
My Poem “Writer’s High”
That spark! That flash! That light from the dark... That stream of inspiration and energy that flows so fast... That moment of conception... That shockwave and expansion of the internal explosion... That rush to capture that which you know is significant... That immediate change that runs rampant like a fire and effects everything like a solar flare from the Sun... That pulse-racing, breathtaking, eye-opening idea that comes to an artist seemingly from out of nowhere, like a bolt from out of the blue, can feel like a miracle from heaven or from a higher dimension - because the colours that it paints the world with can seem too incredible to be real... when an artist who uses words to create their art feels themselves being pulled along by an idea's wave and riptide they can experience an almost inconceivable soul-fulfilling ascension that might be described as a writer's high.
A Poem A Day #418: Buona Fortuna
My Poem “Mad Rush”
During the hours and the days of November and December, there is always this energy in the air that can be felt and which can intoxicate people in many ways, and which can bring out the best in people - love, charity, friendship, family - and which can also, sometimes, bring out the worst in people - competitiveness, jealousy, inferiority - and it is during the Christmas period that people behave in ways they never would at any other time of the year. Christmas should be a happy time when people think about one another - however there are moments when some people can become overly self-conscious and they can believe that something that they have must be "better" than what everybody else has in order for it to be considered "good"... November to December should be when family is more important and everybody is thankful for who and what they have in their life... the "holiday season" - as it is known - is and should be when there are literal and poetic examples of hopefulness and light on show from morning till night. Every year everybody around the world participates in traditions and customs that can only be practiced at a particular time, for particular reasons, during which and because of the meaning of different seasons - and depending on what time of the year it is some things are considered obligatory and a "must"... every year everybody slowly but surely changes their demeanor and sometimes they can even change the way that they think and react to certain things - and there are times when ordinarily calm and collected individuals can find themselves switching to a version of their personality who voluntarily runs, and sometimes even fights, with those that are also in the midst of the "red mist" of the annual "mad rush".
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