love
My Poem “Variety”
I love to listen. I love to observe. I love to imagine. I love to converse. I love to watch people doing things that they are invested in, and I love to watch people do things that they might not even know what exactly they are doing. I love stories, I love characters - and life is full of an infinite number of tales that, unless you were a witness to them, you could not and would not believe that were in fact real. I love music for many reasons - but mostly because music is like gravity: it is ever-present throughout our lives, it influences us, it grounds us, it is a force of nature that stars of all kinds, sizes, and colours create and sing without even knowing it, and because it existed before us and it will live on after us in varying forms, rhyming and never repeating. I love that there is more than one season of nature where I live - because it stops every day from feeling like a copy of the day before, like it must feel to people who live in a country where the weather, the temperature, the sights, the sounds, are all the same - because what I love and what I embrace the most about the world that I live in is that there is always so many sources of variety.
A Poem A Day #407: Survivor Instinct
A Poem A Day #406: The Wolverine
A Poem A Day #405: Balloons
A Poem A Day #404: Too Close To The Sun
My Poem “What You Make of It”
Time is precious. Time is fast. Time can be counted in the things we have done, in the things we have collected, in the people we have met, or perhaps in the steps that we have taken - like those that need to be remembered when learning a dance. Time can be found. Time can go missing. Time can be filled with sound. Time can be filled with silence - and it is in those moments when we all should listen. Time can be spent doing many things. Time is what gifts me inspiration. Time can be perceived as being both a curse as well as a blessing. Time is a beginning, a journey, an experience, as well as a destination. Time is the when, the what, the why, and the how we can be who we want to be. Time can be truth as well as a secret. Time is real as well as a dream. Time can be so encompassing that it can make you believe that where you are, when, and with whom could not be any more perfect - but Time is always open to interpretation, because in essence Time is what you make of it.
A Poem A Day #403: My Dream
My Poem “Like a Paper Bag in the Rain”
Getting from place to place is not always as easy as a hop, a skip, and a jump... getting what is in your mind on to a piece of paper is sometimes not as easy as it sounds... getting what you want in life is not always want is meant to happen... getting an idea is sometimes the first step of many that you need to take to get the final rocket launch of a final product off the ground... getting help when you need it is not always guaranteed - however people can surprise you, especially strangers who can see that you might benefit from a helping hand of their assistance... getting reassurance from others about what someone is doing is essential for some people who rely on constructive opinions, not criticism, of their actions to fine-tune their art... getting somewhere when the sun is shining is always much easier to do than attempting to get somewhere when it is slippery, or wet - but however you find your way through what you have to go through to make it to where you need to be if the end result is worth it then you will risk being completely decimated, disintegrated, reborn, and reconstituted like a proverbial paper-bag in the rain.
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