My Poem “Thirty Seven”

There are days when time goes fast,
there are days when time goes slow…
there are things that I see, hear, and taste
that instantly remind me of the past…
there are moments in every hour of every day
when I dream, when I hold on to hope,
and when I smile to myself
and I know beyond doubt why I am here,
why I do what I do, and what life is all about…
there are faces that I stare at every day
of people who define me and who make me feel
like the luckiest and the happiest
man in the entire world…
there is, and there always will be, within me
an infinite world of hopes and dreams
that will repeatedly coalesce and come together
in the form of a poem that must be written,
and for my part I always want to be a poet
with an open heart who understands
and loves the power and the magic of words…
as I write this I am on the cusp
of turning thirty seven years old,
and like every year around my birthday
I sit down and describe who I am
and what reflection I see when I look at myself
in the mirror of my mind –
and who I see is who I have always been
and who I will always be,
on Earth as well as who I will be
if and when I hopefully rise up to heaven…
there is a brand new summer enlightening
and reinvigorating me as I look down
at this page of my life
and as I look up to the bright blue sky –
and though I know that I could be
a better man than I sometimes am,
I remain eternally and constantly hopeful
and now at the ripe old age of thirty seven.

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My Poem “Dusk”

The golden and blue hue of dusk
is the view that greets me
when I gaze out of my window
at the evening sky –
soon all will be dark
and the stars will shine
brightly on the horizon and above me…
Slowly the once blinding light of the sun
fades to an after glow in the West…
All is quiet, all is peaceful…
The streetlights start to illuminate one by one…
Slowly but surely night is falling upon us…
This truly is the time of magic…
The sky looks more beautiful
now than it does during the day…
There is a stillness and an enchantment
that feels like it is at play…
Day becomes night without so much as a fuss…
This time is one of the most powerful…
Words cannot describe this captivating
and this awe-inspiring time of dusk.

My Poem ‘To the sun and back’

The light of the sun is so alluring…
the heat from the sun is so energizing…
the rays of the sun can sometimes
be so intense that can be burning…
what the sun has in abundance
and we sometimes take for granted and forget
is that it has more power
over our world-wide destiny –
and just as we have learned to harness
a fraction of our sun’s potential,
over time the star that shines
every hour that our planet is turning
will allow us to rise and realize
our own collective-potential –
but, as with every thing of power,
for every blessing there is also a warning
to not spend too much time
looking too intensely
and too longingly at the sun,
because too much of something can be damaging.

Our planet orbits the sun at the perfect distance
for life to exist, to thrive, and to evolve…
it is the gravity of our primary-star
that lies at the centre of our solar-system
that has made it possible for wonders of creation
to blossom and speckle the lands and the skies
of humanities planetary-family…
we do not own the sun and we never will,
our closest star will always have dominion over us –
and all it asks of us for what is gives so freely
is to have the foresight to know
when enough is enough…
the sun was and still is a source
of both worship and energy for many.

I have always considered the light
and the heat from the sun as a blessing,
and when I am being shined upon by its sunshine
I always feel as energized as a fully-charged battery…
the sun will always be both the fuel
and the engine of our planet
that will inform many of our choices in the future,
just as it has been in the past…
getting close to a fire can be dangerous
and it can be destructive –
but you can capture more than enough magic
from a single spark to fill your life
if you know and if you keep to a safe limit…
I have been as close as can be to a fire,
and I have on occasion been burned –
but I know what you can find
if you truly look around
at where you are and when you are
when you bask in the light, the heat,
and the inspiration of our world’s star,
and there is no telling what amazing things
each of us can find in the light and in the energy
that can be found when we travel
with our eyes and with our mind and our imagination
to the sun and back.

My Poem ‘Blind Curiosity’

When the sun went down
it was like witnessing
a great eye closing…
when the daylight
faded into the darkness of twilight
it was like seeing the world
slowly fall asleep…
when the golden light shone up
instead of down
it was like watching the world
appear to start a journey
towards a state of dreaming…
when the sky was finally devoid of colour
and the stars came out to shine their light
from unfathomable distances away…
I found myself looking,
just above the horizon,
to where the sky meets the ground,
and I was drawn high above and far away,
on a flight of fantasy,
to a place within my own imagination –
but which felt more like a part of a dream
of someone divine who could create
beautiful new worlds
from the moment that they touch
the ocean of infinite dreamers
with the toes of their feet.

I always walk blindly into a dream…
I have no preconceptions
about what I might find
when I start looking deep inside…
I have always wondered
whether we could revisit a dream –
even one that we might have had
when we were children
and after we had been read a bed-time story –
and I wonder if an adult
observing a child’s thoughts
would know instantly what they mean?
I envy the playground
that every child has within their mind –
the scope of a child’s fantasy world has no limit,
and within a child’s imagination
every moment can be the instant
of an infinite number of sunrises.

The evening sky is a magical piece of heavenly art,
as the birds return to their nests,
and as the owls, the foxes, the badgers, the bats,
the wildlife of the night start to appear,
when it is dark so many things happen…
there is so much wonder, thought, love, magic,
and imagination that blooms like a flower
constantly under the light of divinity…
there is so much life in this world,
and most of it thrives at night
when the universe recites its sonnets for us to hear,
and when the dreamers of existence leap with joy
into the realms of blind curiosity.

My Poem ‘The Whispering Gallery’

Every Sunday,
bang on 10 o’clock in the morning,
the bells of St. Martin’s church
ring-out loud and far –
and every Sunday,
when I am standing and listening
in the most perfect spot
that can be found in all the city,
over time I have discovered
an amazing phenomenon…
just as every whispering gallery
that can be found in places
that are often places of silence
and peaceful serenity,
if you whisper a wish into the air,
and it is carried away on the wind
in the right direction,
then that same wish will come true one day
after having been delivered directly to heaven
by the wings of a listening angel –
and that almost silent prayer
will echo and create epic waves,
like an ocean being skipped upon by a stone,
and you will have been blessed –
even though the evidence of what has taken place
and by whom may have already disappeared without a trace.

The bells of St. Martin’s church ring for almost an hour –
the are a source of hope for many, and they have a power.
Church bells, to me, have always had a solemn beauty to them;
church bells are like the accent of a place of worship’s voice,
and I think they are wonderfully important;
church bells have a way of drawing people to them like a beacon;
you have never felt such a feeling like that
of being as close as you can be
to the breathtaking vibrations of sound
that are produced when ancient bells are ringing
and hammers are hitting their mark in a bell-tower.

The world is one big whispering-gallery;
the Earth has places on it
where the magical can be conjured into being
with the flick of a magic-wand
disguised as an ink-pen;
some people want something so much
but they are afraid to ask for help from anybody –
sometimes things can only be heard
when they are said in the first where
and at the right when…
so, I encourage anybody who feels something special
when they are somewhere,
even if that place may not look anywhere
that may be at all “somewhere to write home about”
to let their inner-most thoughts and wishes
be set free into the atmosphere
of the worlds biggest whispering gallery.

My Poem ‘The Everyman Cinema’

The Everyman is ‘old-school’…
the Everyman is like a one of a kind time-piece…
the Everyman is steeped wall-to-wall
and ceiling to floor in the traditions of a time
that to me feel “authentic” and “pure”…
the Everyman feels like a film-lover’s heaven on Earth,
and as soon as I walked through its doors
an amazing feeling overcame me.

Wood-paneled walls; golden lighting;
an inviting and comforting ambiance
that I simply adore because of how much,
even upon first sight, it instantly enthralls;
neon lighting of many colours
that guide you to, in my opinion, the pièce de résistance
that you find in whatever screen you find yourself sitting.

I have been to more cinemas than I can count, in my time…
I have seen more films at cinemas
than I have had Starbucks coffees…
I have had some memorable experiences while at the movies,
and I have had some less than enjoyable experiences…
I have watched every genre of film at the movies,
but there must only be a handful of memories that I remember
more than others, for different reasons –
however mostly because of what they meant to me
and the lasting-impression that they left on me.

I love going to the cinema –
to me going to the cinema
is like following in the footsteps
of those who sort-out entertainment and a show
like you experience when you pay to attend
a dramatic-performance at the theatre;
I truly sit and wait in wonder in the dark
every time I choose to watch a film
I have never seen before,
but there are some venues that add to the magical occasion
of watching a film on a big-screen more –
and to me I think have found the place
where I plan to watch every upcoming film
that I am looking forward to seeing in the future:
somewhere where you sit on comfy sofas to watch your film
and enjoy your popcorn and your refreshments
from the concessions bar –
a place that to me is a talisman to movie-going fan,
and that place is a cinema in Birmingham, in the UK,
called the ‘Everyman’.

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My Poem ‘The Warped Tour Four’

Early rise… morning light…
open eyes… all is good, all feels right;
bags packed, phones charged,
an open road in front of us…
maximum speed achieved,
we are traveling with full-focus
I-75 all the way to Atlanta…
music fills us, music takes us,
music calls us, music sends out shock-waves
from far-away speakers, as well as from
the speaker in our chest that is our heart
which is louder than the loudest thunder.

The sun shines… the heat beats… we wait in-line…
we all feel this amazing anticipation
run through our bodies, from our head to our feet…
and within no time at all we are in,
and we are instantly hit by a wave of music and energy…
we feel like we have entered another dimension and world
in which time and space stretches into infinity…
everything we hear, everything we see, everything we feel,
to me is incomparable to anything else –
and nothing could ever have prepared us all
for how unbelievable every second here would be.

Music is transformative;
sometimes it is hard to put into words
what music means to those who love it;
music is the universe’s oldest,
and it’s most potent, form of magic;
there is no better way to have an experience than to share it –
and I will forever be glad to have been surrounded
by there family I was with when I was standing
among a mass of music revelers
with whom I share a connection
that every waking and unconscious hour
makes me feel blessed.

Bands play on many stages…
music screams out loud, far, wide, and deep…
the many faces of strangers all united as-one –
a music family of many colours, all one race.

We are all here to enjoy the chain of moments,
memories, embraces, and emotions;
we are all rotating in a cycle
and in orbit of a pulsating energy core
that keeps us all in motion;
we are all a part of history in the making;
we are all the answer to how
our world is ours for the saving.

The music falls down…
the heat breaks, the sun begins to set…
the end of day song starts to play…
we are leaving the epic festival of sound
that has all day long caught our breaths…
we are heading home, we are cutting-short
what for us has been an incredible tour…
we all know that to truly make it somewhere in life
you cannot do it alone…
we had the most phenomenal day
that we will remember all our lives –
so say we, The Warped Tour Four.

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