My Poem “Everybody is a Poet”

The truth –
no matter what anybody tells you –
is that everyone is an artist,
everyone is a Poet,
everyone can do something unique,
everyone has a talent,
everyone has something that they are meant to do,
everyone has the spirit, the soul, the mind
than when honed is capable of doing anything,
expressing anything, experiencing everything
that makes life on this planet worth living…
If you can make someone smile,
if you can make someone laugh,
if you can make someone think,
if you can make someone feel something,
then I am happy to tell you
that you are an artist, you are a poet,
you are a member of a world wide
society of people who embody life
from every extreme on the scale
of reality in which we are capable of
inhaling and exhaling…
Money can’t buy you many things –
and one of the things that it can’t buy
is yourself: your life, your memories,
your experiences, your perspective,
your joy, your happiness, your hopes,
your fears, your nightmares, your concerns,
because all of those things are unique to you alone
but they can be shared and sympathized with others
because there are always others who have similar,
universal, human, psychological, physical,
and verbal insights into the kaleidoscope
of thoughts, dreams, and emotions
that drive the engine of nature
that surrounds all of us…
There are things in this life, in the universe,
that nobody can see –
when astronomers look up and back in time
to the beginning of the universe
they find an impenetrable wall of light and energy:
the innermost shockwave from the explosion
that created everything that we see,
from the moment of the Big Bang, frozen in time –
which surrounds the answers to some of the most
important questions ever asked: Why are we here?
What is the meaning of life? Is there a God?
Everybody asks questions – that is what we do,
and that is what humanity has always done…
Everybody has a story to tell
and everybody is a storyteller
and a character in their own right…
Everybody goes on a journey during their life
to find themselves and what they believe
should be their purpose while they are alive
on Earth and a member of this world…
Everybody creates a little piece of art every day,
but sometimes it can take a while to interpret
what someone is trying to say –
however, in their own way,
even if they do not realise it,
and even if they are not actually using words
to communicate their feelings and motivations,
a person’s actions can speak volumes,
and in my opinion every action that someone
makes should be classed as poetic…
I have met a lot of people throughout my life,
and I have heard, seen, and I have read stories
about people from vastly different walks of life –
and the conclusion that I have come to
is that everybody, in their own way,
is an artist, and everybody is a Poet.

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My Poem “The Road So Far”

It’s impossible to completely understand
a world until you start to explore it…
it’s impossible to completely know
a person until you meet them face to face…
it’s impossible to completely understand
why people do what they do
until you attempt to walk in their shoes…
some people are born into a way of life,
while some people choose a way of life
because they have heard a call…
some people fall when they try to rise,
while some people rise when they believe
they are going to fall…
some people discover more about other people
towards the end of a person’s life
and some people feel like their lives
are beginning again when they sit down
and they listen to the stories
told by a previous generation…
some things in life we choose,
while some things are decided for us…
there always comes a time in a person’s life
when they come to a crossroads –
when they look up, when they look down,
when they look left, when they look right,
when they look forwards, when they look back –
when they remember, when they consider,
when they count their blessings,
when they wish they had more time
with people who have passed on,
and such a crossroads always occurs
when it comes to the end of one season
and the beginning of another…
even as a person grows older
they always hold on to some things,
to some experiences, and to some people
longer than others, because there are some
mementos of life that instantly make people
jump back in time in their mind
like some kind of inter-dimensional time-traveler…
the older that a person gets
the more that they are reminded of how fast
time moves and how fleeting life is –
and that is why it is always important
to listen to the sound of the beat of your own heart,
because life truly is a journey – in so many ways –
and filled every day with things
that cannot be found anywhere else in the universe
and on any other planet orbiting any other star,
and that is why it is important to stop
every once in a while, while traveling the miles
of your life-long journey,
and reflect upon the road so far.

My Poem “The 1975 Experience”

I feel so alive…
I am still riding high
upon a wave of sound,
energy, and light,
after watching, after listening,
to my favourite band, The 1975,
live for the first time…
the experience was amazing…
the show was mesmerizing…
the almost spiritual, simultaneous,
synchronous, visceral gift
of opening your heart, your mind,
your soul, your senses, your mouth,
taking in, letting out an incantation
of love in the form of music and song words
that you know is an unfiltered
communication of pure ecstasy –
and in my opinion there is no way
of replicating that feeling of connection,
that wave of emotions that you find yourself riding…
when we are in presence of similar souls to us,
when we hope and pray to be taken away on a journey
to another place, and we reach a state
of hypnotic and perfect bliss,
returning to the outside world,
walking through the darkness surrounded by stars,
into the cold air of the night,
is like waking up from a dream
that you find it hard to describe afterwards
because it was so enlivening…
coming down after flying so high is always hard…
getting up the next morning
after a transcendental experience
is like waking up with a hangover
after being intoxicated by a drug…
I have had moments of time in my life
that were so special to me that I will never
forget them until the day that I die:
meeting my one true love and asking her to marry me,
meeting my favourite author,
standing atop the Empire State Building
and taking in the extraordinary
360-degree view of New York City,
getting my first book of poetry published,
and so many more –
and now I can add my time listening
to The 1975 live and in concert to that list,
because just like when I try and recapture
the sensations of doing all of the amazing things
that I will always remember doing,
when I close my mind eyes I still feel like
I am when and where I once was:
one moment in my lovers arms
sitting on that wooden porch in Georgia
that I still remember so well,
and the next bathed in the light
and the sounds being witnessed and reciprocated by
my favourite band, The 1975, on a cold January night.

My Poem “Never Forget A Face”

Some people are better at remembering names…
some people are better at remembering places…
some people are better at remembering numbers –
and then there are people, like me,
who are better at remembering faces
and at spotting the various distinguishable
features about a person…
once upon a time, people who had the innate gift
to be able to pick a face out of a line,
or a file of people, were sought-after –
however, in this day and age of the future,
the technology to be able to pick
a face out of a crowd has been invented
to catch the likeness of someone
and instantly reveal a person’s identity…
in years gone by, people used to take photographs
and collect them in photo-albums
to preserve the memory of something,
somebody, at some memorable point in time –
and though people still do take photographs
and collect them together into albums,
pictures taken now are mostly collected
and organised digitally…
remembering people used to be more of a tactile act,
paying tribute to someone used to be more like a pilgrimage –
but now that technology has made the world
relatively smaller, in a sense, and more connected,
people can easily reach out in some way
and talk to people far away directly and immediately…
technology has made communication between people
easier and more readily available,
and it has made it possible to share
what is on your mind with a countless number
of different people from all around the world –
even those who live and work in space…
however, I believe that no matter how
technologically advanced we become as a world
there will always be a need for those people
who have a natural talent about them
to do something amazing –
be it the ability to run fast,
the gift to be able to tell incredible stories,
the miracle to be able to write poetry
and make their own kind of music,
or the skill to be able to never forget a face.

My Poem “Vicarious”

I love telling stories –
and I love hearing, reading,
and experiencing the stories of others…
when I was young I was a child
who used to be absolutely hypnotized
and captivated by whatever story
I was watching play out in front of me:
in books, on T.V., and at mandatory
family get-togethers…
I have always loved the gift and the ritual
of telling tales and learning something
I never knew before about something,
somewhere, or someone…
I was always that kid in the classroom
who was always staring out into space,
looking out of the window,
and dreaming about an adventure
to be had in a far away place…
however, as I grew older,
the more that I wanted to see of the world…
as I grew more inquisitive about the universe
the more that I wanted to go to all the places
that I had always yearned to see –
and as a child of amazing parents
I was given the opportunity to visit
kingdoms of magic, wonder, and infinite possibility…
but it was when I finally made it to New York City
that I realized I was truly living a dream
that I had had for as long I could remember,
when I saw playing out in front of me
lights, sounds, colours, and a spectrum of life
that was beyond imagination…
and that is why I feel very lucky
and incredibly fortunate to have been
where I have been, and to have seen what I have seen –
because I know that there are so many people
from all around the world
who have always dreamed about going
to where I have been and doing what I have done
but who for one reason or another
may never be able to –
and there are so many people from all around the world
who would give anything to take a leap across an ocean
and live their dreams, but who for the time being
have to settle for seeing, hearing, and experiencing
the world through the eyes, the ears,
and the senses of other people, vicariously.

My Poem “The Dance that never ends”

It feels like a long time
since I was allowed to stop,
to sit, to look, to listen,
to read, to write, to take in the voices,
the songs, the sounds, the music of life
like I used to –
there is always something else to do,
there is always somewhere else to be,
there is always some staple of necessity
that always seems to get in my way
of being the dreamer I love to be
and gladly welcoming any and every
opportunity to engage in a wandering
of inspiration and discovery…
it feels like it has been a long time
since I took a walk through a woodland,
left my footprints in the wet sand of a beach,
or watched the sun rise while listening
to the many birds singing
in the bushes and in the trees
in chorus with one another at dawn –
it is moments like this, when my time is my own,
when I feel like a soldier that has just returned home
from a theater of war…
it feels like only yesterday that I felt
the world stop spinning,
when Melissa and I shared our first kiss
and it feels like only yesterday
that I saw her for the first time
and I fell madly in love
with every perfect inch of her beautiful face…
it feels like only yesterday
that I tossed my silver coin into that wishing-well
and I made my silent wish…
it feels like today is yesterday all over again
when my memories of quintessential moments of happiness
return to the surface of my consciousness,
that are so powerful that they can fool me
into thinking that they are happening right now,
and it is times that happened years ago
that even to this day still feel vivid and tangible,
that I live to remember, to return to,
and to feel as if they are happening
over and over again like a dance that never ends.

My Poem “Take Me Back”

While bathed in the golden light of evening,
at the end of this hot summer’s day,
I find myself looking West to the horizon,
and wishing that I could turn back the clock
to a time in my life and to a place
that I remember and I revisit every day…
a time and a place, a love,
the face that I could never live without
of someone important to me,
who I love from head to toe,
who completes me, and who I miss
the touch of more than I could ever say,
who melts my mind and inflames my heart,
who is as perfect in every way
as seeing a field of sunflowers swaying in the breeze
and glowing from their yellow leaves…
I love my blond-haired, blue-eyed, angel
more than she could ever know –
and I cannot wait for the day
when I can wrap my arms around her again,
look into her eyes, and tell her that I am hers forever
and that she will always mean everything to me…
take me back… take me back a year…
take me back to Georgia…
take me back to my favourite wooden porch
with its American flag displayed proudly from it…
dear lord, take me back to my idea of heaven on Earth…
take me back… take me back to Melissa.