Sometimes looking for inspiration
and trying to hear the voice
of the muse of poetry
is like attempting to find
the right frequency on a radio -
sometimes it comes through clear and distinctly,
sometimes you think you have got it
but then you lose it again,
and sometimes you find something
you never expected to find:
a melody, a song, a sound
that feels as if it were
waiting to be found
so that it could be captured and shared…
sometimes trying to make something
out of nothing can feel hard
when you cannot see anything
but a series of strewn components -
but when you reach a certain point
when you can see and decipher
signs that point towards
how seemingly random things
can all fit together like the pieces of a puzzle,
then you are able to see
why some things are not meant to be
what they are supposed to be
until they are ready to rise
like a loaf of bread.
Everyone was once a combination
of many different fragments -
subatomically, genetically, spiritually -
and then, for some reason,
we all returned and became
who and what we have all been destined to be
since the moment of our birth…
the sun, the moon, the dark matter
that binds the galaxies of the universe together,
were all once something else entirely -
not to mention our home world
that we owe our existence to:
the paradise that is planet Earth…
so much more has happened
over the course of the cosmos
than could ever be known, nor quantified -
including the dawn and the sunset
of countless lights that were once
beacons of hope and life
for now long-gone civilisations…
we can only remember, capture,
and preserve so much of what was
for the benefit of future generations.
Even before the first human began
measuring, recording,
and predicting the passage of time,
everything in existence has been
aware that there is a cosmic clock
that can only go in one direction,
and not in reverse -
which is essential to know
for our very survival…
even those who live
in a perpetual state of darkness
somehow can always know
when it is day and when it is night,
because something inside of us can always tell us what time it is -
whether we are basking in sunlight
or shielding underneath a shadow…
our biological senses
are all seemingly individual,
but sometimes some people
have a greater instinct and insight
into what it happening around them,
around others, and in other states of being
than lie beyond the veil of perception…
nobody lives the life they live
without having a clue or an idea
to hold on to that helps them
make sense out of the sometimes
chaotic world that greets them
when they attempt to connect
to what is going on, what people are doing,
what people are trying to say,
and what version of reality is being shared
on the constantly changing, evolving,
and sometimes repeating
multi-media landscape that humanity
has given birth to, feeds, sustains,
and will one day see transcend
and reach a point of no return
and perhaps beyond anyone’s ability stop.
meaning
The Pathfinder: The Dandelion Universe
The Pathfinder: Walk The Walk
My Poem “Light and Dark”
There will always be things
that happen in life
that will forever be
out of our control...
there will always be things
that happen in the universe
that will happen whether
we observe them or not...
there will always be things
that happen to people
at a particular time,
in a particular place,
that will bind them to one another...
there will always be things
that happen that will have
a profound effect on people
in different ways.
At the time of an eclipse -
when people gather together
to watch the moon align perfectly
in between the Earth and the Sun
and obscure its light for a short time -
people young and old
can be brought to tears,
the usually talkative can be silenced,
and those who wonder
whether we are alone in the universe
look up and are given a sign,
as the Moon casts its shadow upon the Earth,
and there is always a palpable mixture
of thoughts, feelings, and emotions
that rise to the surface
of the collective consciousness
of individuals who may have
been looking forward
to what is taking place
for a long time -
because witnessing an eclipse
is, and has always been,
considered special, sacred, and momentous -
because it is an occurrence of significance
that is both predictable, and yet rare.
After light returns
to a world that has been
veiled in darkness,
there is always a universal wave
of energy and excitement
that washes over people...
when the details and the colours
of the world can once again
be seen as clearly and as vibrantly,
as they are meant to be,
people can feel a sensation
of renewal, of reinvigoration,
and as if they want to make plans
and achieve new goals...
after an eclipse, people always
look at everyone around them
and appreciate them more
than before for some reason -
most likely because they realize
what the presence of certain people
in their lives means to them,
and because they experienced
what it is like to not see others
at the same time that they felt
they were still right besides them.
After experiencing a shared moment
that has a profound impact
on the way that people
perceived one another
and their connection to the universe,
when people return to their daily lives
a fragment of what was witnessed
always remains within someone
and occasionally makes them wonder
what lasting impression
they may have been left
upon those whom they have met -
perhaps akin to the importance
of the sun being eclipsed by the moon,
and those who were there to observe it
who were instantly awestruck
as they watched day become night
and light become dark.
My Poem “Apricity”
I have always been able to feel
and appreciate the energy
that surrounds me...
I have always been able to
subconsciously see
the spectrum of colour
that everything and everyone radiates...
I have always been able to hear
the music of the spheres -
the cosmic symphony
that the stars and planets of the universe
play every instant of every day
as members of the eternal orchestra...
I have always been able to assimilate
the knowledge of someone,
something, or somewhere
simply by reaching out
and touching the ever-present spirit
that everyone and everything
emanates and leaves behind them
like some kind of echo of their aura...
I have always been a believer
in the importance of obligation -
to the people who matter to us,
as well as to the place where we call home...
I have always been a dreamer
and someone with an imagination
that daily refreshes itself
with new hopes and dreams
for the future...
I have always been someone
who has always felt connected
to something greater than myself -
which is probably why,
even when I am seemingly by myself,
I never feel alone,
and I always feel love...
I have always been someone
with an instinct that allows me
to be able to look
and listen to someone
and instantly know what mechanism
drives their internal desires...
I have been someone
who has been able to take a walk
on a summer's day,
or stop and look up to the sky above
on a winter's afternoon,
and feel instantly inspired,
revitalised, and uplifted by the
"apricity" of every moment -
as if I am being remade every time
by the extraordinary feeling
of the sun upon my skin.
My Poem “Let there be Poetry”
In the beginning,
there was something -
there always is;
however, then something else happened:
an explosion of energy and light,
and, in an instant, poetry
came into existence and continued
to create and reinvent itself,
over and over again,
until it eventually evolved into
life, sounds, images,
music, words, language,
vast connections that span
the multiverse of universes
and realities that currently exist,
and beyond -
and there is no sign
of it stopping any time soon.
Poetry has always been there…
poetry is always there in every moment,
and poetry will always be there
waiting to be seen, recorded,
recounted, and shared...
poetry is not just words -
poetry is like a fire
that burns without end...
poetry lies within the heart
of every person on Earth...
poetry has been there
within the dreams of everyone
who has ever lived
since the moment of their birth.
Since I first discovered poetry,
since I wrote my first poem,
since I first discovered that
becoming a poet and writing
my own poetry was my destiny,
since I started and I couldn't stop myself
from being inspired by everything and everybody,
I have been seeing the world
through the prism of infinite possibilities...
since I first started sharing
what I saw, what I heard,
what I felt, what means the most to me -
when I was gifted that first moment
of poetic serenity and clarity -
I have believed in the concept of causality,
I have believed that
everything happens for a reason
because it has to,
because it is meant to,
and when it comes to finding an explanation
as to why things happen in life
I have always believed in the old saying,
"What will be... will be" -
which is why I have always believed
there is always an answer for everything,
and that even in the darkest of times,
or during the brightest of days,
things have a way of showing us
just how much of life
is beyond our control and full of surprises,
but life also has an innate design to it
that is meant to repeat;
so, just as a long time ago
a phrase was uttered
that made the first light shine
across the cosmos, I say:
"let there be poetry",
so that people everywhere
may know what it means
to be free to be
who they are supposed to be
My Poem “Multitude”
This morning, I saw a distant light
shining from afar in the sky -
which was not the sun,
which was definitely not a plane,
and did not appear to be a drone;
however, the seemingly stationary light
that I saw from perhaps a mile away,
was enough to make me wonder
within my mind what it could be...
this morning, I also saw a white swan
and their cygnet swimming in a nearby pond;
and, as I watched the white swan
gracefully swim towards me,
almost immediately, I knew
that me seeing the swan,
and the swan seeing me,
was a sign of something significant,
a sign of something extraordinary
that has never been lost on me.
This morning, the sky is bright blue...
this morning, the light shines
unfiltered upon everything...
this morning, the chorus of caws
of the crows on the branches of their trees
are loud and distinctive,
just as the chirps of the robins
in the hedgerows are always
something sweet to hear
when they pay me a visit
as I proceed upon my path...
this morning, like every morning,
people carry out their daily rituals -
whether that is shopping,
reading, watching, or perhaps listening,
visiting one another,
doing what they must,
as well as being there for those
who need help the most.
This morning, every morning, even as a child,
I am awoken with a mind of dreams,
thoughts, feelings, inspiration,
and, of course, poetry...
this morning, every morning,
looks the same as those
that have come before -
but I always know that something is different,
I always know that something,
somehow, somewhere, has changed...
this morning, every morning,
I love being up early to see
the last lights of the night,
the first light of the day,
and be witness to the moment
when silence becomes filled
with the sounds of a symphony...
this morning, every morning,
I know more than I am told
about life, the world, the universe,
and I instinctively feel the peaceful
harmony of the natural world
and the beginning of another wave
of that which binds everything -
both living and departed -
together beyond the limits
of the divine, eternal, and constant message
that is seen and interpreted
by everybody, everywhere, every day
in a multitude of ways.
A Poem A Day #608: One Day
My Poem “The Olympia”
From the moment that I saw it in the window of the Cancer Research UK charity shop, I knew that I had to step inside and buy something that writers have used for years to type, to print, and to share their ideas with others the world over since its invention... from the moment that I saw the Olympia typewriter, I felt as if I were immediately drawn to it for some reason that I can not yet explain... there was something about the Olympia - something that spoke to me, as if the typewriter itself was talking to me, beckoning to me, to become its new owner and take it home with me so that it could be a talisman for me in all my future literary endeavours... from the moment that I stroked my fingers upon the black keys of the Olympia, I felt a moment of connection with whomever it was the typewriter had previously belonged and I knew that I was always meant to possess it, to use it, and to take it with me on the next chapter of my writing journey... from the moment that I held my silver pen that I used to write hundreds of my poems, when I first became a writer, I also remember feeling a similar impression of instant inspiration - and that is why I believe that something wonderful and transformative awaits me, and will elevate me to new heights of poetry, because I have now have at my fingertips the totem of my kin that is my typewriter: The Olympia.
Mark The Poet 