My Poem “Birthplace”

After they are born,
most people do not return
to the place of their birth…
most people have no memory of,
nor any connection with,
the one place on Earth
where they arrived in this world…
it is only as we get older,
when we start asking questions
about who we are and where we come from,
that we find out more about
the place on our birth-certificate…
sometimes, for some people,
returning to the place where the first person
saw their newborn face is a difficult experience
and not one that they which to repeat…
where we are born is integral to who we will be,
how we will think, and the direction in life
that we will take…
everybody is shaped and molded by the world around them –
but the place where a person’s story begins
has an impact that cannot be overstated…
whether someone is born in a hospital,
on an airplane, in a forest,
in the back of a car, in a lift, or in a pool of water –
that first point of interaction with the world,
that first inhale of air,
the first sights, the first sounds,
the first light of life that we see
are the first things that welcome us
into this world of gravity,
meaning, purpose, interface –
and that is why I believe that there is
something special and meaningful
about the exact when and where
that was, and will always be,
our birthplace.

Advertisements

My Poem “The Long Way Round”

Some times it is good to go that extra mile…
some times it is worthwhile to go back
to where you came from…
some times it is good to revisit those places
that used to make you smile…
some times all you need is to return
to those open spaces that you will always remember
and let the winds of home
blow away the cobwebs of your memory,
and once again you can feel like you are
walking among old friends as you retrace
those steps that you made
that gave you a reason to not feel alone…
the shape of time is a sphere…
even those who feel lost
one day arrive back where their journey began
and again they feel found…
the walls that surround our heart
and our soul are crystal clear…
just as we take a step into the future
we also always take a step back into the past,
and while doing so we all always feel glad
that when given the choice to take the short and easy way
instead we chose to take our time, to smell the roses,
and see the sights along the way,
as we took the long way round.

My Poem “Dreams of the Moment”

A stream of light breaks
the dark shadows of the floor…
a dream of another life dawns upon my mind
and makes me remember mornings long ago
when I awoke far away from home for the first time
and I heard a brand new chorus
that added another dimension
to what I already knew to be
the opening notes of a new day’s call…
a passion, a dialogue, a conversation,
a nexus of mind, thought, emotion,
and art expresses itself on the page before me…
sunlight touches my face –
I can feel the sun’s rays upon the irises of my eyes,
I can feel sparks of inspiration within my mind,
I can feel my hopes within my heart and soul
reach out and touch the heaven sent sky above me –
and I find and I capture what my pen
has desperately been driving to make
my eyes and senses see:
that life is the road and the journey
that does not end – and that though people may change
their appearance from time to time,
as nature does seasonally,
some things are dreams of the moment
that will always be.

My Poem “Bonfire Nights”

I remember the nights
of the fifth of November…
I remember the times
standing around, feeling the heat,
and basking in the glow of a bonfire…
I remember being a child
and being completely hypnotised
by the flickering of the flames
and by the sound of the cracking
of the furnace that burned before my eyes…
I remember watching the giant behemoth
that brought light to the darkness
and warmed the heart of my family and I…
I remember being a child and reciting to myself
the rhyme “remember, remember, the fifth of November”,
and having my imagination filled with images
of “gunpowder, treason, and plot”,
and watching Guy Fawkes being burned in effigy…
it has been too long since I stood
and looked into the flames of a fire,
but I still remember and I will never forget
all those bonfire nights that were filled
with sights, sounds, smells,
memories and dreams that will forever
fuel the inspiration and the fire
of my occasional child-like wants and desires.

My Poem “Pause”

Planes crash. Buildings fall.
Lives are lost. Time stops.
One day can feel like it is the end of the world.
Open wounds always leave scars.
Some days can never be forgotten.
Memories can sometimes feel like stars –
sometimes they feel far away,
and sometimes they can feel
close enough to touch…
the 11th of September, 2001,
is like a scar of my memory
and I will always remember
exactly when and where I was
when it was given to me.

I have visited New York City…
I have stood at Ground Zero…
I have marveled at the memorials
that are now where two towers once stood…
I have looked up at the Freedom Tower,
and every time I think about being there
where so many people lost their lives
it always brings a tear to my eye –
because I remember where I was
when New York City and the world,
and all of us who value life above all else
were rocked both physically
and emotionally to the core…
every time I think about that day
every thing that happened that day
always makes me sad and gives me pause.

IMG_1368

My Poem ‘Plane-spotting’

There are things that I remember
from when I was a kid
that are still so full of colour
and still so vivid and clear…
there are places that are forever
preserved within my memory
from when I was a child
that I can always return to
within the blink of an eye…
there are times when you think back
on your life and your memory
can play tricks on you
and you can accidentally and falsely
remember things that never really happened –
but, when I close my eyes
and I think back to being ten years-old again,
on a summer Sunday evening
just before the sun went down,
and I can see my Mum, my little-sister,
my Dad, and I can see my own face
being reflected in the rear-view mirror
of our family car as we prepare to go home
after a busy afternoon of plane-spotting.

My Dad has always been a train-spotter,
a plane-spotter, a car-driver,
and when he was younger
he was even a motorcycle-rider…
my Dad has always been a music-lover…
my Dad has always been the best father…
my Dad has always been of a lover
rather than a fighter…
I learned from a young age
that when it comes to deciding
and knowing what the best thing to do
in any given situation at any time of the day or night,
then my Dad is the one who always knows better.

Everybody who has ever met my Dad
never forgets my Dad –
my Dad has one of those faces
that hasn’t changed that much since he was a school-boy
growing up in his home-village of Coleshill…
when I was younger, as a family
we were always going to airports and air-shows
so that we could see and marvel
at the aircraft that we saw souring through the sky,
and my Dad always knew what every plane was
and he could tell you what type they were
with a single look…
going to places with my family when I was a kid
are timeless memories that I will never forget
because they mean so much to me…
I will always remember those moments
when I would look at my Dad
and I could see the genuine joy
that he took from being with his family
who he loved while he did something
that he had been doing since he was a kid…
whenever I see a plane taking off now,
or whenever I am flying on a plane as a passenger,
I always flash-back to when I was a boy
when my Dad would pack up the car
and we as a family would all go
plane-spotting.

My Poem ‘The Corsage’

It’s a beautiful thing…
it’s a beautiful time…
it’s a beautiful symbol
of eternal friendship
and of companionship…
it’s a beautiful gift…
it’s a beautiful memory
and a beautiful sign
of how much someone means to you…
I truly love the act
and the meaning of giving
the gift of a flower to somebody –
and it is at this time of the year,
in some places, when love blossoms
and shows itself between two people
and forever forges an unbreakable link.

Soon, teenagers from all over America
will be getting dressed-up
and going out with their dates…
soon, an afternoon of anticipation
will turn into an evening
of dreams coming true…
soon, the stars of night will come out
and young couples will dance and party
till the hour turns late…
soon, young men and young women
will return home after a night of magic
and reveling below the shine of the moon.

Everybody blossoms from a single seed of life
and of infinite potential and possibilities…
every child becomes the adult
that they will one day be slowly,
as they grow and as they are influenced
by everything that they feel, hear, touch, and see…
to their parents, children grow up before their eyes
and in their eyes too quickly –
every day as we all get older
we are reminded that the time
that we have on Earth is short,
however there lies its true-beauty…
we can do much, we can go far –
but the meaning of life is to love
and there is no better way to love
than to give the gift of a flower,
especially when it is prom-night
and somebody gives their prom-date
the most beautiful of all corsage.