My Poem ‘Heaven smells like roses’

I believe that if hell smells like fire,
then heaven must smell like roses…
I believe that if you doubt yourself,
then you are only doing the devil’s work for them…
I believe that if you do not want
to fall under the spell of internal darkness
then I would suggest that you hold on
to the most powerful gift of all: faith,
and see where that faith in yourself will take you…
I believe that if at a young age
you think that you know every thing
that there is to know about life,
then you are in for a long life
full of surprises…
I believe that if you try not to focus
too much on the past
and what other people once made you feel about yourself
then you may actually be able to see past
the invisible mask that you wear
and which only you can see,
and then finally you will see
that you are somebody who is truly beautiful.

The sun makes both flowers and people bloom
when they feel its energizing rays…
in the light of a summer’s day
is when you can see elements
of heaven on Earth in full-display…
the sun is like a drug
that can instantly make you smile
and put you in a good mood…
the summer is a precious and memorable time –
especially around the summer holiday season
and the month of Flaming June.

I save special days and heavenly experiences
in my mind and I relive them in my day-dreams,
especially on cold and rainy winter days…
I try to remember as much as I can
about a time that I know I will always consider
to be special, one of a kind, and important to me…
when I think back to when I was a child,
even then I remember the days and the nights of summer
as being the times when the beauty of nature
made me feel happy and the most blessed…
some things are too unmistakable for words to ascribe…
some things are always going to be
a matter of faith and belief –
in god, or perhaps in yourself?
I believe that we were given seeds
from which to grow new gardens,
because we need to learn
that the path to happiness
and the revelation of perfection
can only come to us
when we see ourselves for who we are in our heart,
and when we realize that wherever heaven is
and whenever we go there
we will instantly know for sure, as I believe,
that heaven does in fact smell of roses.

Advertisements

My Poem ‘Where did you come from? I wasn’t expecting you?’

Within the blink of an eye,
within the flash of a burst of sunlight,
within an instant of time,
within a single simple impression
that touches you
when you see something
or someone at first-sight…
have you ever considered
what that moment is made up of
and where it comes from?
Have you ever thought about
what all the world
and all life is built upon?

There is always a before,
and there is always an after…
there is always energy,
and there is always matter…
there are always things
that you can’t understand
until you go through them…
there are always realities
that you can’t imagine
until you see them…
the most undeniable thing about life
is that you can never know everything
about it, about everyone who makes it,
about the depths and the secrets
of the universe beyond the sky
and our galaxy’s periphery outer-limit –
because every sphere has its own world…
every place has its own laws of nature…
every planet, every region of space,
has its own history, creation, story,
leaps in evolution, and future.

There is a reason for everything…
there is a reason we are all here…
there is a reason why nothing
can suddenly turn into something…
there is a reason for hope…
there is a reason for fear…
there is a reason for why
there are things that we need to know,
and there is a reason and a meaning
behind what makes us smile
and what brings us to tears.

Some things in life we hope for,
we plan for, we expect,
and we need to happen
to give our life the drive
and the spark to fill the world
with all that we were born to give…
sometimes when you are not expecting
to find paradise or perfection
you can stumble upon an oasis
or someone who to you is the most beautiful…
some things are so precious and meaningful,
and in every way they must be held
close to your heart as a gift…
sometimes life can become so simple,
especially when you look up
and you see something new
and you say to yourself loud and clear:
where did you come from?
I wasn’t expecting you?

My Poem ‘O.C.D. Me’

I don’t think I have ever met anyone
in my entire life
who does not have an
obsessive compulsion to something;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have a daily-routine;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have something
to which they are drawn;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who, at one time or another,
who does not over-think…
to me, everybody has O.C.D. –
everybody has a desire to find
happiness through order;
everybody knows when they look around themselves
what the picture should be;
everybody knows that for every call
there must be a caller.

We all sometimes need reassurance about some things
in order to live a life without constant worry –
sometimes, however, our worries follow us
wherever we go…
some people cannot sleep properly
unless they find out things
that they don’t know;
we are all sometimes our own worst-enemy;
however, it is not always out fault –
because there are times when things
play on our mind, subconsciously,
and thoughts become like a bird
trapped in a house
just looking for a way out
so that they can fly-free.

Those with an O.C.D.
read every-thing into everything;
those with an O.C.D.
listen to the same songs over and over;
those with an O.C.D.
repeat the same things;
those with an O.C.D.
always remember.

As a writer, I am not afraid to admit
that when it comes to my writing
I have an obsessive-compulsion
to try and not make mistakes
in whatever I write –
I, however, am a human writer,
and not a machine who functions
and who is run by programs and mathematics;
whenever I see a mistake that I have made
it does play upon my mind –
however, after a while,
I eventually resign myself
to accepting that which I cannot control –
and I take a breath and do not panic… too much.

For some people, their O.C.D.
controls their entire life;
for some people, their O.C.D.
is what keeps them awake
when it is the dead of the night;
for some people, if they do not do something
then it could never be seen by them as done right;
for some people, their O.C.D. just takes over,
and something in their brain just takes control,
of their actions and they simply can’t help it.

My Poem ‘No comparison’

I’ve walked the Earth…
I’ve searched the stars…
I’ve been waiting to be
with you all my life…
I’ve seen love in the eyes of others –
but I have never seen a love
as breathtaking as ours.

It began before we met…
it started when our heart’s
first began beating…
it started when we were born
of our parents under the sunlight
that constantly shines down
upon our beautiful planet…
it all began before even
the first birds began tweeting.

You and I, me and you –
we are one of a kind,
we are unbelievably special…
we make new music together
every time we speak…
we fall in love with each other
over and over again…
we would not be the same people
without each other,
nor would we be as happy as can be…
we are one and the same,
and that is something
that could only we could ever understand.

It’s because of you
that my heart feels like
it is beating a thousand times a second…
it’s because of you
that nothing could ever compare…
it’s because of you
that I believe that for each
and every one of us God has a plan…
it’s because of you
that I look at your picture
at all hours of the day
and I dream of being with you
over and over again
within every timeless moment that I stare.

I have never loved anyone like I love you…
I have never thanked God more for anything
than I do when I thank him for you…
you have been the most beautiful to me
since the first picture that I saw of you…
because you are my passion,
because you are my obsession,
because you are my addiction,
because in all the world,
because on all the planets
that circle those distant lights of perfection,
there is nothing and no one
as gorgeous, nor as amazing, as you…
because, Melissa, to me, to you,
there is no comparison.

NoComparison-poem-sq

My Poem ‘Walking the line’

Literally, figuratively,
physically, emotionally,
I have been walking a line
or two my entire life…
just like Johnny Cash,
near the infamous Nickajack cave
in Tennessee,
I walked the tracks of a railroad-line –
and I can honestly say
that on the beautiful morning in February,
while I was walking alongside the Tennessee river
with the love of my life
and my adoptive family,
I too had what could be called
a “spiritual experience”:
the sky was blue,
the light was golden,
and I felt more alive than I had ever felt –
I was renewed, and I did not even for a second
think to look back over my shoulder,
because all that mattered
were the moments of perfection
that I was living out in nature
and under the life-giving and incredible sun.

Walking any kind of a line
is always when and where
something life-changing begins;
walking down a road that you don’t know
is how you can discover
and learn to embrace something unknown
and completely different;
walking, and not rushing,
is how to savor the beautiful
and the miraculous things about life
that speedsters sometimes miss
because they travel at the speed of lightning;
walking has always been a passion of mine –
and I swear that you haven’t lived
until you have stopped and heard
the breathtaking sound
of the Earth when it sings.

Every day people walk the line of life and death;
every day people walk the line of light and dark;
every day people walk right and left;
every day people walk to live,
and to live they have to walk far;
every day people walk
even though every step may feel like mile;
every day people walk through all weathers;
every day people walk through fire
and must overcome a torrent of trials;
every day people walk and repent
so that one day they can be
welcomed through the gates of heaven.

No matter what demons lie in your past,
you have got to keep walking
even though there may be times
when you don’t feel fine;
no matter what baggage you carry
that you think you can’t let go of,
sometimes you have got to learn
to let go of what you don’t need anymore,
and don’t look too longingly
at the light of the past
because before too long it may make you blind;
you haven’t lived in this life
if you haven’t at some point or another
been asked to pick a side;
there is no one alive
who hasn’t had to walk away from something
so that they to walk towards something –
no matter what, no matter the time,
everybody in their life
has got to walk the line.

image

My Poem ‘Be Like Mark’

I am Mark.
I love writing.
I love making art.
I love thinking.
I love imagining.
I love believing deeply.
I love going far –
over oceans of water,
and to the ends of my knowledge
and my imagination that always takes me
further away than the night-sky’s
farthest stars.

I am in love.
I live to love my angel of heaven on Earth.
I have explored.
I have marveled at the beauty of above.
I have seen many sights
that I will always remember seeing all my life –
however, there is no perfection
that could ever compare to my muse,
to my Melissa.

I am a dreamer.
I always have and I always will
see the guiding-light of hope,
even on the darkest of days.
I am a true-believer.
I know things, and slowly-but-surely
I have come to realize
that no matter who you are
or where you are from
the world can be important to you
in a myriad of different ways.

I am unique.
I return to the same places week-after-week.
I value people.
I love hearing and I love learning
about the new stories
that come into being.
I love how the happiness of those who I love
and care about makes me feel.

I remember so much,
but I am in no way smart.
I know that anyone can make something
even the size of the entire world
fit on to the head of a pin,
or make it as large and as incredible
as the universe is both beautiful and dark.
I have felt an intense understanding
of how all life works
and what everything means, many times –
while sitting on the porch of a house in Tennessee,
or while walking through New York City’s Central Park.
I would not ever advise everybody
to live like me, or to do all that I have done –
but what I would always tell everyone
is that things happen as they are meant to happen –
and if you truly want to live your dreams, and be happy,
then, even if it is for just one day in your life,
choose to be just like me, and be like Mark.

2016-02-01 08.36.09

My Poem ‘Never Rest’

Everybody has their own outlet;
everybody has their own place of worship;
everybody has their own way of sharing;
everybody has their own way of caring;
everybody has their own time
when they feel their most alive;
everybody has their own favourite way
of passing the time:
if I could be anywhere at this very moment,
I would love to be in a Jeep Cherokee
traveling down I-75 with the one I love
all the way to Tennessee-
listening to music from the 1980s and the 1990s,
as we enjoy every second of our drive
and the perfection of our ride.

We can all feel young as long as we want to;
we can all do the seemingly impossible;
we can all marvel at the brand new;
we can all make that life-changing call;
we can all be seen, we can all be heard,
we can all be free, we can all be
all that we say so easily with words;
we all remember, we all forget;
we all have felt a rush,
like the feeling of uplifting air
underneath the wings of a bird’s feathers;
we all at one time or another
have had to pass a test.

Life is a series of borders to be crossed;
everybody everyday wants to be happy;
a life in which ever day there are things
that you can have any second at no cost
is the one that we would all always want;
everybody has expectations
of how they would like something to be,
and then when life surprises you
from time to time in ways
that completely eclipse anything that you thought
you realize why it is important
that some things only happen once.

A great journey is made up of small
but important steps;
a happy life should be measured on smiles
and memories, not by miles or kilometers per hour;
a beautiful vision is both soul- and solar-powered;
an imagination like no other
is one that can go all day and all night
while harnessing a single powerful idea –
and at no point, until that idea has evolved
to the next level of its existence,
does the powerful mind of a dreamer ever rest.