Snow fell during the night –
however, when I walked out into the cold of day
I was instantly bathed in golden sunlight…
The sky above is blue without a cloud to be seen…
Within hours all of the snow will have melted
and there will not even be a flake of snow to be seen…
Some things are temporary,
some things are set in stone…
The sun has shone every day of human history
and it will continue to light the way of our future
and remind us every day that we are not alone…
Time rushes by like a raging river
and soon disappears over the edge
of a precipice like a waterfall…
Everything is constantly in a state of change
and the fact that moments do not last forever
is both sad and yet beautiful –
just as children grow before our eyes
so too does the world,
and we are lucky to live at this moment of time
when between sunrise and sunset
and between sunset and sunrise
anything is possible.
Moments
My Poem “Driftwood”
So much of life is beautiful…
so much is beautiful about life…
so much of life is expressed through colour…
so much of life is expressed through music…
so much of the world speaks
with a silent tongue in moments of stillness…
a brown leaf falling
from the branch of a tree to the ground…
the silhouettes of things
both exposed and obscured
because of the early morning
light of the sun…
a green field with yellow flowers
swaying in the breeze…
the slowly flowing water of a river…
nature certainly puts on a show for the senses
when you stop and take it all in…
it is with the golden light
that shines from above
that you can see the world’s gifts…
it is when we are free and unconfined
that we can truly breath in and breath out
the essence of meaning of nature,
life, belonging, and light…
it is with the gentle breeze that you feel
that your thoughts and your dreams
may dance the waves of life like driftwood.
My Poem ‘Say My Name’
Say my name and never stop saying it,
let your voice be heard
and open the heart of the poet…
say I’m yours and I’ll be happy forever,
say I’m brilliant and I’ll feel clever…
when you say my name,
and when I say yours too,
three words always follow: I love you –
and that is when my heart explodes,
the volcano erupts and the lava flows,
and I look at your face
and I read your eyes,
you read mine too and we become one-mind
and that is when I know that
we are one of a kind.
I love you so much,
more than you know…
I want you always
and I want to go wherever you go…
I need your love, I need your heart…
forever is not enough time
to hear your laugh…
you know my past, but you love me still…
you know I’m scarred,
but you know I love you and I always will.
I write from my heart, I write for you…
I write when the sky above
is dark and full of stars,
and when there are white clouds
above my head against a sky of blue…
I write my hopes, I write my dreams,
I write to show what I feel
for who and what I see –
because I need you to know,
what I can’t always explain,
that I love you more than you will ever know,
and I love every moment
that you look into my eyes
and you say my name.
My Poem ‘Cosmos’
There are some absolutely
breathtaking sights…
the vivid, spectral,
ethereal, green, dancing
magnetic field of our planet
that comes alive and creates
the mesmerizing Aurora
of the Northern Lights
above the sea and the mountains
that touch an arctic sky…
there are some incredible
and stunning places that perfectly
exemplify how truly beautiful
the natural world is…
there are some unbelievably
heavenly spaces, and some
other-worldly lands
that still have yet to be
trekked upon by the foot of a human being –
places that encapsulate the meaning
of the word “wild”…
there are some amazing landmarks
of every country, continent, and island,
where people are drawn to
and they would sacrifice anything
to breathe in its air
and take in everything that makes
such a place so special and enthralling…
there are some things that need to be seen
to be believed that they actually exist.
There are places that need to be seen
in the right light so as to truly witness
their magic – at night, when the sky is dark
and the stars burn bright from so far away
all that can be seen from here on Earth
is a shimmering white…
there are songs sung and music to be heard
when we look up and a celestial voice
speaks to us and unlocks
the doors of our imagination…
there are other worlds out there
in the universe teaming with life
of unimaginable forms that dream
dreams of us at night…
there are things that are being born
every second, everywhere,
that are experiencing what it means
to be alive wherever they find themselves,
and they are discovering for the first time
the wonders that flicker in a person’s heart
and eventually become love.
There are moments when knowledge, intellect,
and words just become redundant
when compared to what we see before us…
there are feelings that overwhelm comprehension
and go beyond our instincts that we trust…
there are miracles and wishes
traveling at the speed of thought
to come and answer the calls
of those who feel lost…
there are galactic travelers
voyaging between the stars
that will one day enter our orbit
and who will reveal to us
things that we have never believed possible
but which are ubiquitous
all throughout the cosmos.
My Poem ‘The Meaning’
As with most things
it all begins in our eyes
and with what and whom
we see with our eyes…
as with most things
we all come to things,
places, people,
from different directions
and at different times…
as with most things
there are always things
that we regret…
as with most things
a part of something
always remains within
the heart and the soul of something
even after the outer-layers
have withered away and died.
Humanity is fragile…
every day of a person’s life
they are in a constant state of change;
humanity by nature is fallible…
every day of their life
a person can do things
that when looked upon in retrospect
they would see them as a collage of mistakes;
everybody is prone to repetition
and we value our routines;
we are all so caught up in our own lives sometimes
that we are mostly oblivious
to the changing of the times
and the rhythms of life.
A life is full of meaning,
even if you can’t see it:
music, children, love, sport, art,
work can give a person’s life what they need…
no two people live the same life in the same way…
no one and nothing ever stops changing…
what matters the most in life
is what you find in the moments of silence
when there is no sound, music, or talking –
there and then is where you find
what lies within your heart
and what you cannot live without
because of the way that it fills
your life with such meaning.
My Poem ‘Temporal’
There is something entrancing
about hearing the tick, the tock,
and the hidden but vital mechanisms
that lie within the wooden-body
and the beautiful face
of a Grandfather-clock –
every movement, every sound,
every second that goes by,
tells a story about how precious
and fleeting moments of time are…
in the silent stillness of an old house
when all that can be heard
is the echo of an old time-piece
there is always a special feeling
to be found in every instant of peace.
With time comes change,
with change comes choice,
with choice comes both
the familiar and the unknown,
and with the unknown comes an opportunity
and a responsibility to grow…
there is no changing the past,
because everything that you see
all around you is built upon its bed-rock…
you can’t change the future,
because it hasn’t happened yet –
but what you can do is allow the past
to influence, change, and inform
what and how the future will appear to you…
you cannot change what was,
but you can start to weave a new thread of change
that could potentially one day out-live you.
I see change… I see the wake
of the passage of time everywhere I look…
I see things that once were
that have been replaced
by that which is now the way things are…
I see walls that were once doors…
I see mirrors that were once windows…
I see the old making way for the new –
but the constant in the middle of everything
still remains: me…
sometimes we have to be like a chameleon
and blend into whatever background
wherever we find ourselves –
changing on the outside,
while an echo of who we are
and who we always will be looks up and out
through our eyes from down-deep.
Time flies… time forces us to leave hours,
days, months and years behind…
time does not stop, but with the gift of memory
you can make a moment last forever…
time cannot be out-run,
no matter how fast or how far you can run –
but what you can do is make the best of the time
that you have and make the most of the time
that you share with those
who truly matter the most.
My Poem ‘Background Artist’
I am in the foreground of every landscape…
I am in the background of every picture…
I am in the orchestra that plays
the music of the spheres throughout interstellar-space…
I am interwoven into the language of the universe –
and yet too few ever see me…
not everyone knows how to look me in the eye…
not everyone can read the true meaning of my poetry…
no one knows what I have seen,
where I have been,
and what I have done already in my life.
There is only so much you can say with words…
there is only so many colours of a palette to paint with…
there is only so many moments in this world…
there is only so much you can give –
unless you know what to say and how to say it,
and you are in one of the places in the world
where language becomes as transformative as magic…
timing is everything – however,
if you know what, where, and how to say,
see, hear, and feel everything,
then you can realize anything into being.
A thing’s most defining feature lies just out of sight…
life’s most hidden mysteries
are only a blink away from being seen…
the content of a person’s heart and their soul
echoes around them and casts a shadow behind them
when they are standing in front of a bright light…
a dream can be a reality, just as reality can be a dream.
Doors rarely open for long…
opportunities sometimes only knock once…
bursts of inspiration can be so short…
time does not wait for us to catch up to it…
the world turns without pause –
but if we can find a place of peace and belonging
wherever we are, then we can never be lost…
there is something to be found, even in an empty room…
if we just learn to hold on to hope
and use what power and energy is has
then things have a way of jumping out at us,
like a baby deer running through a forest…
what you see is just one dimension of the whole…
just behind who and what you see,
I am standing there, looking, smiling,
imagining, writing, inspiring from afar…
I am constantly seen, and then missed –
but I am always where I am supposed to be,
doing what I was born to do:
an optimistic, poetic, omnipresent,
background artist.
My Poem ‘Sights to see in Birmingham City’
Even from far-away
you can see the towers of the city on the horizon;
as you get closer to the centre of the city
the buildings both old and new glisten;
when you catch a glimpse of the spires
of Saint Martin’s church,
and of the shining disks that cover
the imposing Selfridges store,
you cannot help but be taken-aback by what you see;
when you climb the steps that lead
to the entrance to the Bullring,
that is but the start of a path
to things that always attract my attention
and capture my fascination
every time I see them
as I walk around the city.
I love walking up New Street,
from the famous bronze Birmingham bull
to the statue of Queen Victoria
that stands tall atop their plinth
at Victoria Square –
there are always musicians and street-performers
playing and performing hoping to draw people to them
so that they can bedazzle with the talent;
I love going into my favourite restaurants and stores –
in particular Starbucks, Waterstones,
and also my favourite bookstore ‘Foyles’
which to me is the jewel in the crown
of the newly-refurbished New Street Station –
and simply looking, perusing,
people-watching, and listening;
one of my favourite places to go in all the city
is the amazing and inspiring
Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery –
the exhibitions and the art to be found within
to me is always a treat to behold…
and another place I love to revisit is of course
the phenomenal new Birmingham library –
somewhere I have spent many an hour
enjoying every moment of walking through
the near-infinite number of books on their shelves,
and also sitting outside almost on the library’s roof
looking far and wide and also below
at the beautiful city beneath me.
I love walking the towpaths
of the canal-side near The Mailbox;
I love walking from one end of Broad Street
to the other and marveling
at the number of restaurants and bars
that can be seen as you follow the stars
and in the footsteps of the famous and the renowned;
I love how no matter if it is a sunny day or a rainy day
that I cannot deny that this city
constantly speaks to me and to my sensibilities;
I love those times when I can walk around,
or just sit down on a bench near St. Philips Cathedral
that stands at the heart of the city,
and allow my thoughts to runaway in my mind;
I love the many cultures, accents, colours,
and sounds that echo wherever you find yourself in town;
I love every time that I get to see the sights
that always inspire me in Birmingham City.
My Poem ‘Correspondant’
When I was 12 years-old
I had a pen-pal from France;
when I was in school,
I and the rest of my french-class
were asked to write a letter in french
to someone who had written a letter in English
to the person with the name
whom they had randomly picked out of a hat…
I was picked by a boy called “Sebastian” –
who I believe went to school in a town in Normandy –
and over the next few months
I would write in my best french to Sebastian,
and Sebastian in-turn would write
in his best English to me.
Sebastian would tell me about where he lived,
about his family, and about his love of the English-language.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Sebastian’s letters to me –
however, my competence in replying to Sebastian in french
left a lot to be desired, and after a while
I did not reply to Sebastian in the same frequency
as he was writing to me.
Sebastian sent letter after letter
about a myriad of different things that were happening to him –
but, unfortunately, my letter-writing to Sebastian
had gone from once a month to none-at-all,
which to this day still makes me feel horrible
and it is one of the many things that I regret
and which still picks away at my conscience.
When I was 12, I was not the writer that I am today.
When I was 12, “social-media” had not been invented,
neither had what we call today the “internet”,
and talking to someone in another country –
even as geographically close as France is to England –
felt as hard as talking to an alien a far-away galaxy.
When I was 12, school felt like a place
where I was forced to attend.
When I was 12, I did not understand
what in life is the most important.
I am in my thirties now,
and high-school, or secondary-school
as we call it here in England,
feels like it was many moons ago
than I can remember with as much clarity
as I have for yesterday –
however, as with many moments from my childhood,
there are things that still stand-out
and there are some moments
that rise to the surface of my mind randomly
when I least expect them to…
and today, on a rainy Saturday afternoon,
here in England, as I sit behind my desk,
in my bedroom, writing in my notebook,
is one of those times when something
and someone that I haven’t thought about in years
has flashed back to me and made me ask
with genuine fascination:
I wonder whatever happened to “Sebastian”,
my life-time ago pen-pal from France.
My Poem ‘A Part of Me’
You’re the picture in my wallet…
you’re the woman of my dreams…
you’re the star I daily orbit…
you’re beautiful beyond belief…
You make me who I am…
you make me smile and you make me laugh…
you make me happy when you hold my hand…
when you look at me you make me feel
like I am 20 feet-tall,
and taller than the tallest giraffe…
When we look into each-other’s eyes…
when we both say ‘I love you’…
when we walk together under an unbroken blue-sky…
when we kiss and the Earth feels like it moves…
I want the moments we are together to last forever…
I want every wish that we share to come true…
I want to be the one who to you always makes things better…
I don’t ever want to stop giving all my love to you…
Because without you, to me, life would not be worth living…
because to me you are the most beautiful angel of paradise city…
because to me you are the magical light that opens my eyes
every day when the dawn is breaking…
because I have never met, and I have never known, anyone like you…
because, Melissa, you will always be a part of me
and the best thing that has ever happened to me.
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