My Poem “For the love of it”

The best reason to do anything
is always for the love of doing something:
giving someone a smile,
asking someone how they are,
giving someone the gift of your time,
showing your appreciation to someone
for sharing a small insight into
who and what makes them just as
worthy of taking an interest in
as the nearest or the furthest of stars.

Not everybody is lucky to be able
to have a career doing what
enlivens their thoughts and makes their
heart throng like the thunder
of a lightning storm...
not everybody can do what
everybody else can do as perfectly,
proficiently, nor perhaps as poetically -
but I guarantee that when someone
is home alone, without any eyes upon them,
everybody who has ever been as
spellbound by something
as extraordinary as a magic trick
has been able to do and to mimic another person's
talent and as a result has found their
own individual hidden gift or secret accent.

Everybody has that song
that they secretly do a little dance to
when no one else is around...
everybody has that characteristic
about someone else that they
secretly admire and wish
they could embody and emulate
simply by feeling the vibration
of someone's quintessential sound...
everybody has that person,
or a small group of people,
who they believe they can
see through to the soul of
and who can return the favour
because a bond of experience
that was once forged and was destined
to always be eternally rich...
everybody has an indefinable
electric eccentricity of wonder
about them that they harbour within
that occasionally sees the light of day
when and where they have the opportunity
to be and to do whatever they want,
for no reason other than
simply for the love of it.



My Poem “Life”

Life is full of many surprises...
life is full of many sunsets and sunrises...
life is full of many contests and prizes...
life is full of many stories of those
whom have never stopped wanting
to reach for something farther
and climbing beyond
the highest of the heights...
life is full of people looking up
to somewhere where the lights
of the heavens shine upon
and guide those who have
always known that they had
a fate to fulfil unconstrained
by any invisible lines...
life is full of those who have always felt
as if they had a goal before them to be achieved,
to be found on the other side of a ride
of ups and downs, of body and mind,
of drive, of faith and belief of every kind,
at the end of which lies a place and a time
where and when a creation
can finally meet their maker
and bring home with them
the dawn of a new world
unlike the one that they
may have known
their entire life.

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 Way of the Artist”

Everything changes...
everything evolves...
everybody doing every thing
has their own process...
new things have naturally arisen
over time to replace other things
and other ways of doing things;
however, some things never change -
and one of the things that will never change
is the way that artists are inspired,
the way that artists seek out
new sources of stimulation,
the way that artists wake up
every morning and want to create art,
the way that artists cannot settle down
to sleep without first either thinking
about or doing something about
the nugget of an idea within them.

There is something inherently human
about art and about attempting to capture
the sometimes incomparable,
about the need to express our inner most
thoughts, feelings, emotions, dreams,
hopes, fears, and our natural insecurities...
there is something primal about
the experience of having this overriding
instinct that we feel compelled to act upon...
there is something almost genetic
about how people young and old
seem to have the same unconscious ability
to be able to go to the same places
that other people are unable to,
because there exists this continuity
of connection that crosses generations
like some kind of universal melody.

All my life I have created art,
I have witnessed art being created,
and I have come to recognize
the look in a fellow artist's eyes
when they are deep within that moment
when the inspiration and the art
within them are in full-flow,
as if it were a sixth sense of mine
that I have slowly but surely
developed over time...
all my life I have looked at
the natural beauty of the world
rise like waves upon an ocean
and literally change the geography
of a well known place or monument...
all my life I have witnessed
something come from something -
and I have come to believe
that "nothing" is in fact a type of
"something" that we have not yet
given a name to, because certain things
are like energy and no matter what
they will always exist.

Looking for an answer to a question
that may have been asked for centuries
and expecting to find what has not occurred
to anyone else before, at least to me,
is not in any way a sign of madness -
in fact, I believe the art of being inquisitive
and never asking the question
"why create art in the first place?"
and just feeling this need to create
some kind of art is the most powerful gift
and the most fulfilling way of every artist.

My Poem “The Burning Bulb”

This is what I remember...
this is how it used to be...
this is what I and many others
like me have been unable
to do for almost a year...
this is how I have spent
so many mornings as a writer, as a poet,
and as an observer of human nature:
sitting in my favourite café,
as the bells of a nearby clock ring out,
and feel like I am where and when
I need to be to take out my notebook
and write some new poetry.

It hasn't been the same experience,
it hasn't been the same magic -
even though I have not stopped
writing, nor creating new things,
over the last twelve months
I, like everybody, has had to adapt to living
in a world divided in so many ways...
even though I have not been
lacking in ideas, inspiration, drive,
nor passion to let my poetic side express itself -
now that I am back, sitting inside
and enjoying the ambience and the atmosphere
around me that I know so well,
which for years has fuelled my creativity,
I honestly feel as if I am able to spread
the wings of my intrinsically
poetic and artistic spirit.

I have learned over the years
to embrace every moment,
because things can very easily
be put on pause, beyond our control,
or can even be brought to an abrupt end -
which is why I often dwell upon memories
of where I have been, of what I have seen
and of what I have felt throughout my life...
I am someone who has always looked
to the distant horizon and to the future -
but when anybody goes through
a period of being within something,
or away from someone who matters to them,
everybody undoubtedly feels
this need to somehow go back,
to recapture and to relive all that to them
for so long has always felt like
a constant burning bulb of energizing
inspiration, light, and hope.

My Poem “Forty”

Where did all the time go?
The last thing I knew I was
celebrating my thirtieth birthday,
and today I am celebrating
turning the big four-oh?
What a forty years it has been!
What a life I have lived!
When I look back I sometimes
cannot believe where I have been,
what I have done, nor who I have met
over the course of my life –
and because time goes by so fast
there are inevitably dreams that I have had
that feel like memories and there are memories
that I have made that sometimes feel like dreams.

It’s been forty years since I arrived
into this world that every day
never ceases to both surprise and inspire me…
it’s been forty years since I was
welcomed into this world with open arms
by my parents and by my family…
it’s been forty years since I first
saw another human being,
since I first smiled, since I first heard
the background music of nature
that never stops playing…
it’s been forty years since the light
of the sun bestowed upon me
the sight of miracles that will always be with me
and will continue to keep my heart beating.

I remember exactly where I was,
what I was doing, and what I was thinking
ten years ago, when I turned thirty –
and when I think back to those simpler times
I cannot believe what the last ten years
especially have given to me:
the gift of inspiration, the gift of poetry,
the gift of perpetual love,
the gift of looking above to the stars
of the night and to the bright blue
of the daytime sky, and the realisation
that life is an adventure that needs
to be lived to be fully understood.


I know who I am, I know what I am,
and I know who and what in this world
mean the most to me –
so, today, as I turn forty,
if I had to choose one word
to describe myself or my life,
I would undoubtedly have to say: Lucky –
because over the last forty years
I have been given a life filled with
moments that are the stuff of pure poetry.

My Poem “The Wildest of Dreams”

When I was young the world appeared to be
too big for my mind to comprehend…
when I was young I believed that if
I stayed in one place, doing the same thing,
then I could make something
last forever and never end…
when I was young I loved exploring
the world around me and drawing upon
the people around me for love and joy,
and when I needed my nearest and dearest
I was never left disappointed.

When I was young I read books,
I watched TV shows, I marveled at movies,
I listened to music that left such
an impression on me that to this day
every time I hear a certain song
I am instantly spellbound by its magic…
when I was young I imagined
what I would do and who I would become
when I was older, more experienced,
and hopefully a little wiser –
and now that I am older, after having seen
more of the world, and after having met people
from all walks of life all around the world,
on many occasions I have found myself
having moments of clarity, of inspiration
and insight into who each of us are,
how we should treat each other,
and how lucky we are to live
in the here and in the now –
rather than a hundred years before or after.

When I was young I could never
have imagined living in a world
surrounded by and connected to
an invisible web that can make
dreams come true and can be the place
where people go to find everything
and everyone – from a book to a film,
from a friend to a fiancé,
from a kitchen sink to a television,
from a celebrity to a spiritual guru…
when I was young the future seemed far away
and I did not have that much love
for patience, nor poetry –
however, now that I am older,
I realize that the one gift that has
kept me going, kept me dreaming,
and has kept me on the straight and narrow,
is the blessing of growing up with
the cherished abilty to be able
to instantly see the forest through the trees
and believe possibilities beyond
the wildest of all dreams.

My Poem “Seven Years”

It’s been seven years since we first met…
it’s been seven years since we first found one another…
it’s been 2555 days since we fell in love with each other,
and over the last 84 months that we have
been together I have learned everything about you,
just as you have learned a lot about me –
and though times over the last
364 weeks have been filled with both
moments of happiness as well as tears,
today is our anniversary and you and I
have now been in each others
lives for seven memorable years.

It’s been seven years,
and I wanted to tell you once again that
I love you more than I could ever express…
it’s been seven years,
and once again I want to tell you
that being with you all this time –
my soulmate, my best friend,
my muse of inspiration,
and the most beautiful angel
that I have ever seen –
has been better than I could ever have wished for,
prayed for, thought about, or dreamed about –
and I never want what we have to ever come to an end.

It’s been seven years –
however to me I felt like I already knew you
even before I knew who you were…
it’s been seven years since
I first saw you and I finally realised
who I was and why on Earth I am here.

Over the last seven years,
we have had our ups and downs –
and we have shared experiences
that I will always remember
that I will always cherish
and keep near and dear.

Over the last seven years
we have had both days of sunshine
as well as clouds –
but one thing that you can always be sure of
is that there is no one else in the world like you:
you are both beautiful on the inside
as well as on the outside,
and I have been in love with you
since the moment that I saw you,
and every day I thank God
for the gift to this world that is you…
and, because today is
our seven year anniversary,
I just wanted to say that
here is to me and you,
to the last seven years
and to all the years to come!