My Poem “Mark”

Nothing stays pristine forever...
no one stays the same way
for all the days of their life...
over time things wear out like old leather...
no one stays untarnished -
over time the power of the sun
damages the outer skin of something
or someone after a prolonged period of exposure.

Everything is impacted by outside influences...
everybody is marked by their time on Earth...
everything has a journey from its creation
to its destruction made up of events
that came as a result of their
encounter with outside forces...
everybody has their own
individual path through life
and at several points everybody
experiences moments of significance
on par with a moment of rebirth.

Life isn't a race...
life isn't meant to be rushed...
life isn't only about the world around us -
because so much of what connects us
lies above us in outer space...
for some people life is like a rock
that needs to be constantly
admired and occasionally polished;
but, to me, what makes life so special
is that every day, upon every thing and everyone,
another layer of character is added to what
makes something and someone what they are -
and some things and some people are meant to be,
and they are meant to remain
unrestored, tarnished, and imprinted
with life's indellible marks.

My Poem “Be Who You Want To Be”

Everybody envisions that they are
the centre of their own universe...
when we are children we believe,
and we can come to expect,
that what we want we will always get...
everybody can imagine that there will
come a time when we will believe
that we have nothing more to learn;
however, things are not always as they seem,
things are not always as they
appear to be in our dreams -
because things change,
people come and people go,
life expands beyond the confines
of an imaginary frame,
people teach us who we are
in ways that only someone who is
an observer of us can expose...
over time the gift within each of us
calls out for someone to hear it,
to notice it, to identify it,
to give it a spotlight -
however, the bright spark present
within some people may only show itself
in a flash just long enough
to influence another person
into remembering and recalling
who they were, who they are
and who they will always be -
and if you who are reading this right now
then you know that you have the power
to be who you want to be.

My Poem “The Wildest of Dreams”

When I was young the world appeared to be
too big for my mind to comprehend…
when I was young I believed that if
I stayed in one place, doing the same thing,
then I could make something
last forever and never end…
when I was young I loved exploring
the world around me and drawing upon
the people around me for love and joy,
and when I needed my nearest and dearest
I was never left disappointed.

When I was young I read books,
I watched TV shows, I marveled at movies,
I listened to music that left such
an impression on me that to this day
every time I hear a certain song
I am instantly spellbound by its magic…
when I was young I imagined
what I would do and who I would become
when I was older, more experienced,
and hopefully a little wiser –
and now that I am older, after having seen
more of the world, and after having met people
from all walks of life all around the world,
on many occasions I have found myself
having moments of clarity, of inspiration
and insight into who each of us are,
how we should treat each other,
and how lucky we are to live
in the here and in the now –
rather than a hundred years before or after.

When I was young I could never
have imagined living in a world
surrounded by and connected to
an invisible web that can make
dreams come true and can be the place
where people go to find everything
and everyone – from a book to a film,
from a friend to a fiancé,
from a kitchen sink to a television,
from a celebrity to a spiritual guru…
when I was young the future seemed far away
and I did not have that much love
for patience, nor poetry –
however, now that I am older,
I realize that the one gift that has
kept me going, kept me dreaming,
and has kept me on the straight and narrow,
is the blessing of growing up with
the cherished abilty to be able
to instantly see the forest through the trees
and believe possibilities beyond
the wildest of all dreams.

My Poem “Overlap”

Every day overlaps with the last…
every day everybody’s thoughts
overlap with their memories of the past…
every day people realize that there
are things that are harder to distance
themselves from because of the tangle
of lose threads that continue to dangle
from the fray of where we have been…
every day the stories of people
far and wide become connected
to one another as if by fate
in ways that can sometimes feel like a dream…
every day in this world people from
the past, the present, and the future
meet and metaphysically shake hands,
because some things, like music,
cross time and space and find
mutual friends who they feel understand them…
every day everybody wades deep
into the ocean of life and consciousness –
especially while they are asleep,
and everybody can find themselves
stuck in a whirlpool from which
it can be hard to break free…
every day as we get older
every day feels like it is here, there,
and then gone again in a flash…
every day is new and unique –
however, more often than not,
the events of yesterday, today,
and tomorrow will always
find a way to invariably overlap.

My Poem “Miraculous and Extraordinary”

All around the world,
today is the holy day of Easter Sunday…
today is the day which is remembered,
revered, and is considered remarkable by many,
because it is said that on the same day
two thousand years ago
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was resurrected
and is said to have ascended;
and Easter Sunday is also the day
when those in the Northern Hemisphere
celebrate the beginning of spring,
and for centuries people have
gathered together and feasted
in honour of the Germanic
goddess of the dawn Ēostre –
and it is the symbols associated
with her worship where we get
our modern customs of owning rabbits
as well as the buying and the giving
of chocolate eggs to one another.

Today is an Easter and a Sunday
that many of us will remember
for many years, for many reasons –
just as people will always remember the Easter
that we all had to endure
at this same time last year,
when the vast majority of the population
of humanity had to start living
seemingly in bubbles of isolation
away from family, friends, and co-workers;
and a year on, the world is still trying
to find a way through to the other side
of this pandemonious world wide disaster –
but everywhere that I look
around the world there are
reasons to be hopeful and optimistic
that by this time next year
we will have found a way to adapt to,
get past, and resist the worst of
what is left of what we may
always have to live with.

Today is Easter Sunday
and to be honest I can think of
no better day to be truly grateful
for what each of us have
and who each of us have in our lives –
because each of us over the past year
have had to witness people
from all walks of life having to make
sacrifices
and changes to their life from which
there will never be a way back;
but what we never change for some people
is their ability to never stop believing
that with patience and time
the restrictions on livelihoods will end
and all people who are able
will once again be free –
and if there is anything that daily
impresses me about humanity it would have to be
how some people can keep going,
how some people can keep believing,
how some people can keep
keeping the faith, no matter what –
which, to me, is a supernatural power
that is both miraculous and extraordinary.

My Poem “I love books”

I love that books are still being written…
I love that books are still being read…
I love that books are still being listen to
while people are driving,
while people are walking,
while people are sitting in a chair,
or while people are lying down in bed…
I love that books are still physical objects
that people from all ages can hold,
feel, and marvel at the art of
as they flick through their pages…
I love that books are still filled with stories
of characters that do not always have
an accurate description of how they
talk or how they look,
so undividual readers have the gift
of being able to imagine what characters
sound like when talk as well as
paint their own picture in their mind
of how certain characters appear…
one of the things that I love
about the act of reading, as well as
the art of coming up with a brand new story,
is the power that people have
to be able to generate figments
of their own imagination that are
reconstitutions of the familiar,
the recognisable, the known,
the big, the small, the significant,
and the things from our memories
that mesmerise us,
as well as so much more –
but, to me, it is the magic of words
that lies at the heart of why
I will always love books.

My Poem “A Garden to Call Our Own”

There is no place in this world
more tranquil than a garden filled
with calmness and colour
that symbolises nature at it’s most wild
as well as at its most beautiful…
there is no place of serenity
and rejuvenation for both the mind
and the soul, that is home to birds,
to insects and to animals big and small,
than the place that people sit in,
look at, breath in, and marvel at
all of the infinite wonders that all have
their own uniquely individual details.


There is no other place that people
get to inherit, but also get the opportunity
to make their own, than the place
that changes over the course of its life
along with the seasons that has this power
to be able to remind us all of times gone by…
there is no place of sunlight
and shadow that shows visitors
of our humble abodes who we are
and what means the most to us
than the place that we see almost
every day that if we are lucky
is an oasis of perfection as well as
protection in our minds eye.


There is no place for people with
“green fingers” who enjoy planting,
watering, watching, and tending to
the plants that they sow and see
start out as a seed and then over time
grow just as substantially above the surface
of the Earth that they are planted into
as they do below the ground
whilst creating a vast network of complex roots…
there is no other place that people
can spend hours within and never stop
feeling as if they are truly at home
than that patch of land that they feel belongs to them,
where they can do whatever we want to do,
wherever and whenever we want to do it,
than that special place to us
that may be as big as a park
or a small as a window box,
but nevertheless is a garden
that we can all call our own.

My Poem “The Tough Stuff”

When people are surrounded
by artificial light, by heat, and by order
it can be hard to imagine what it was like
for the first generation of human explorers,
who originally began as one diverse group,
who then went their separate ways
to discover and to understand more
about what and who makes the world
the way that it is, as well as populate
the vastly different regions that
our planet is known for the have to be
adapted to living in in many different ways.

The first people didn’t have clothes…
the first people didn’t have maps…
the first people didn’t even have
wooden built houses to call homes…
the first people didn’t even have maths –
but what the first people had,
and what sustained them,
were dreams, inspiration, ideas,
and from the moment that they harnessed
to ability to willingly create fire
they gave themselves the gift to be able
to see and to travel during the night,
to cook their own meals, and to be entranced
by the dancing flames of glowing light.

The first men and women who
embarked upon their journey of fate
to go to places they knew not where
saw things that they could only
conceptualise by capturing their depictions
of them in cave paintings and in legends
that have endured for thousands of years.

The first of us were the first to feel the spark of love…
they were the first of us to feel the passion of life…
they were the first of us to look up at the sky
and wonder about our place in the cosmos,
surrounded by an infinite number of stars,
and question why any of us are here…
they were the first of us to be brave enough
to bring people together to create
entire civilizations who thrived for a time
and who had to go through
more than anybody alive today could ever imagine.

We who are alive today are
who we are, with what we have,
because our ancestors were more
than even they knew that they were at the time –
but one thing that our ancestors knew well
was that in life what everybody
and what everything sometimes needs
more than anything is each other,
and also the knowledge that by
working together anybody can
get through anything, even the tough stuff.

My Poem “That which matters most”

Out of sight does not always mean out of mind…
sometimes it can be those people
who we do not get to see all the time,
because they live so far away,
who can be everything that we think about
and dream about every minute of every day…
sometimes it can be the people
who we do not talk to for days, weeks, months,
or even years who regularly to show up
in our thoughts like a reflection in a mirror –
and even though things may no longer
be as they were the history of everybody
is filled with moments when we all
learn what comes naturally
and what in life we sometimes need to earn.

It is so easy to lose things in life…
it is so easy to lose people in life…
it is so easy to lose perspective –
which is why sometimes we all need
to fight to understand what went wrong
as well as what went right…
it is so easy for us all to lose time –
which is why we all need to make
every second count and make every word
that we speak last like the legacy
of a light that we may only see
when the sky is as dark as night.

Things can sometimes be hard to handle…
situations can at times be hard to deal with…
feelings and emotions can often
be hard to carry around with you
while you are still attempting to act
as if everything is fine –
because the light that you live by
can at times feel as temporary
as that of the flame of a candle.

Life is my favourite thing about the universe,
because as someone once said:
“where there is life there is hope” –
and while I live and breathe I will always believe
that having the gift to wake up
and gaze at the beauty of the world
and wonder about who and what
makes it work, and why,
is what gives every day its meaning –
because the truth is that meaning
is what gives everything and everyone
that which matters most.

My Poem “Walk Free”

Beauty all around…
nature in full display…
the call of the wild…
as I stare at the blue sky,
the tall trees, the green fields,
I am once again inspired by everything
and by everyone who I meet
who have also chosen to take to the trail
and travel by using the strength
of their mind as well as their feet.

I feel like I know every blade of grass…
I feel like I recognise every leaf…
I feel like I have an emotional
connection to my path…
I never feel like I am walking alone –
because whenever and wherever I walk
I feel like I am walking alongside fellow
poets, artists, and philosophers
who have all shared at one time or another
a deep and a profound belief
that everything and everyone is inextricably linked.

There is more to what makes life
what it is than we could ever know…
there is more to the nature of the
universe
than anyone could ever accurately
conceive nor put into words…
there are things that we feel
deep inside of us that we do not show
until we are breathing in the fresh air
of nature, and who we are, who we were,
and who we will always be meet –
because there are times and there are places
when and where within our minds
we communicate with everything
and everyone around us in ways
that are engrained into our true nature,
like the rings of a tree –
which can be awakened at any time
that we choose to step outside and walk free.