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.
me
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!
My Poem “My Poetic Journey”
When I first began my journey
as a poet, as a writer, as an author,
I was a self-proclaimed
“Poet of the Sphere” –
however, over the years, I would
definitely have to admit that
I have become quite “The Rambler”
and I am so glad that I am!
I am so glad that the spark of creativity
and imagination that first arrived into my life
over a decade ago still continues
to guide me to places, to subjects,
and to sources of poetry that I have
written about and I have included in every one
of my fiction and non-fiction publications.
Over the last ten years
I have learned so much about myself,
about the world, and about the art of language
and the magic of words that I adore…
over the last ten years I have seen things,
I have experienced things,
and I have written about things
that I could never have imagined before…
over the last ten years
I have met people who have influenced
the way that I conceive and understand
the world of poetry that we are constantly
surrounded by that never stops
molding and colouring our thoughts…
over the last ten years
I have made mistakes, as everybody does –
but I have also come to realise
that mistakes and missteps
need to be made in order for us all
to have epiphanies of wonder
that open up within our mind
like the petals of a flower
or like some kind of interdimensional door.
I have written hundreds of poems…
I have written thousands of words…
I have had a million ideas
since I first started writing
while looking for answers
to the universe’ most inspiring questions…
I have had many unforgettable moments
since I first felt the poetry within my soul
cast itself upon a blank page for fear that
if I did not my heart would literally burst.
Every time I write something
it always feels like I am attempting to describe
a profound vision or a vivid dream…
every time I have written a poem
or a story over the last ten years
to me it has always felt like
I were telling a story as well as
writing a chronology to capture
every moment of my poetic journey.
markthepoet.me 