My Poem ‘Survivor Instinct’

Once the mist has lifted,
once the dust has settled,
once a new day begins
and the dark clouds have drifted,
and the frozen time has melted,
once the sunlight breaks through
and showers to the ground,
once people find a way to say something
to fill the void of silence
once again with sound,
once everybody no longer feels guilty
for showing a smile –
everybody can learn to accept and to move on
without constantly living every hour in denial.

Some people do not blink,
some people do not know,
some people do not think,
some people care so much
that even the thought
of something tragic
happening to someone else
anywhere in the world
feels like they are
carrying a heavy load.

There are people
who would do anything
and would give anything
to someone who was in need
more than them;
there are people
who get up out of bed
hoping to help someone in some way;
there are people
who feel a need to give to charity
in the form of a donation;
there are people
who live their life
with a constant open hand
to anyone and everyone every day.

Heroes are all around us;
angels walk among us;
where there is dark you can find light;
you never know when someone
is going to safe your life.

When something is happening far away from you
it is easy to convince yourself
that it isn’t happening;
when someone is hurting
and you don’t know them
it is easy to switch off
from the image of them
as if the memory of them
was a creation of your imagining;
when you see something happening
and you know that you can do something to help,
when you believe that you can be a light
to guide someone out of a living hell,
when you see a chain
and you would give anything
to be that necessary missing link,
then do what feels the most natural to you
and use all that you feel
when you turn on your survivor instinct.

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My Poem ‘The Open Window’

I have never been able to say “no”
to an open window;
like a little white bird on a ledge,
I have never been able to fight
the feeling, the draw,
nor have I ever been able
to not take an opportunity
to fly off on an adventure –
like a child dreaming so happily
and so soundly that they are
far far away in a Neverland
of infinite imagination,
while still tucked up
at night in bed.

An open window first thing in the morning
to me is always a calling;
the view of a beautiful scene
on a hot and sunny afternoon
is as rejuvenating as a kiss;
an insight into another life
in which the possibilities are infinite
is an adventure that I never want to miss;
the white clouds of the day,
and the stars of the night,
keep me dreaming and imagining
while I am still wide awake
of epic worlds that keep me going
and thinking all day, all night,
and straight on till morning.

Windows do not stay open
for as long as doors do;
windows sometimes have to be broken through,
or more ideally climbed through;
windows can show each of us things
before we actually see them in the flesh,
so to speak;
windows… every window
are living and constantly changing and evolving
pictures of life and time
that are momentary, brief, precious, and unique.

Mirrors are reflected images,
while windows on the other hand
can let things come in as well as let things
fly free into the open air;
mirrors can only show you backwards messages,
while windows allow you to leap and go anywhere;
mirrors show only a distorted world;
windows are how children
and those with a phenomenal imagination
are able to understand what is going on
around them without having to hear
or speak a single word.

The best dreams are born
when you let every thought grow and flow;
the most inspiring stories
are inspired by searching for answers
to questions you have not yet asked
about things you did not realize
you did not already know;
just by letting everything and everyone
be connected to each other
you can invite within the light of life
and magic, and perhaps even share
something of yourself with an eternal spirit
who can at times lose their own shadow.
My favourite character of literature
would have to be Peter Pan,
and even though I may have grown older in years
I still cannot, nor will I,
ever be able to resist the temptation,
the fascination, and the flight of imagination
that I always take when I see
and when I look through an open window.

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My Poem ‘Read my thoughts’

I am like an open book;
people can usually tell
what I am feeling with a single look;
I express myself a lot;
when I am not speaking I am thinking;
I always have an idea on my mind,
and an expression on my face to be read
that tells its own story –
like the time of a clock;
even when I am dreaming, sleeping, my mind is racing,
and like someone with all the right moves,
in one way or another, I am always dancing.

My thoughts are a constant universe of stars being born;
my dreams are my memories and hopes
being imagined and projected for only me to see;
the eternal hope in my heart and soul
is like an endless, beautiful, and breathtaking new dawn;
my poetry is my gift, my broadcast, my performance,
my love, fears, and desires, printed on a page,
that is the most honest expression of what lies within me,
and what I like to think is the best of me.

Every gift of connection and sharing touches me deeply;
what I say I always intend to be meaningful,
special, heartfelt, and not overly serious, deep, or cheesy;
everyone who knows me, or has met me,
I hope continues to still have the same feeling about me
that they had when they first met me,
and they still remember their first impression of me;
my lasting hope is that everybody remembers me
for the good things I have done,
and share something of me, or about me,
that might serve to inspire others infinitely.

It is not important to say everything you are thinking,
however if you are like me you can’t ever keep
what is on your mind locked away behind lock and key;
it is not everybody who is lucky enough
to be able to paint their own portrait
and display it for all the world to see.
When fate calls you, when destiny sends you a sign,
if you can see what is right in front of you,
and if you can read between the lines,
you can read my mind,
you can feel the meaning of something
before you even know what it is all for.
So, if you ever meet me, if you ever see me,
if you read something that I have written,
if you happen to pick up one of my books,
then I can guarantee you that without too much effort at all,
you will easily be able to read my thoughts.

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My Poem ‘Open’

Opening a book;
opening the curtains;
opening up;
opening and letting your heart sing
like a musician;
opening your arms;
opening your hands;
opening your eyes;
opening and widening your perspective,
so that you can understand;
opening your mouth;
opening an umbrella;
opening a message, and letting something out;
opening a door that leads to a hidden cellar;
opening the clouds
to let the light through with a thought;
opening a window to air-out a dusty room;
opening a net to see what’s been caught;
opening the story of a life
with the image and the powerful experience of a full-moon;
opening your mind;
opening and clearing your lungs on the resting waves of an ocean;
opening wide;
opening like the petals of a flower,
and staying open.

My Poem ‘Doors’

Some are old;
some are new;
some are bold;
some are blue;
some are transparent;
some are made out of wood;
some are used to prevent;
some are essential
to keeping out the waters of a flood;
some are grand;
some are small;
some are opened with the push of a hand;
some are closed with a pull.
Some say more about the occupant of a house
than any other piece of home decor;
some you can only unlock with a specific key or a code;
some hide riches behind them;
some will never be opened wide again,
because what is on the other side
doesn’t need to be shown;
some are numbered,
and where they lead to can be easily known and read;
some are meant to be walked through and explored,
because you never know what you might find
when you open and walk through a particular door.