My Poem “Personal Collective”

There is nothing like
being around like-minded
people who all share
the same appreciation
and the same optimistic
outlook about something,
about someone, about life,
about the future,
about the importance of humanity
working together and respecting
one another for a common purpose
to maintain the ever growing,
changing, and evolving experiment
that is the human race
that will only truly begin to
show its potential when
the collective members
of our species ventures away
from Earth, seeks out,
and sees with their own eyes
all the wonders of
the rest of the universe.

It is so great being around people
who feel free and able to express
themselves in any and every way
that they can imagine…
it is so great to be around people
who do not require any kind of
explanation as to who you are,
what you are, and why you choose
to look then way that you do,
because you are instantly
and automatically accepted
as being a member of their collective.

When you are around people
who immediately understand you –
a fellow convention attendee,
a fellow concert-goer,
a fellow fan and enthusiast
of the same TV show, film, music,
group, artist, author –
then there is always a silent connection,
a mutual wave of empathy, an excitement,
and when the shared feeling
of a group of people culminates
into a rush of adrenaline
when they get to live out
a dream and meet a star
who symbolizes and embodies
that which they have invested
countless hours and energy into –
like meeting an actor who you admire,
or a rock star whose music always
makes your heart beat fast,
or an author whose words
have touched your heart –
then follows a perhaps
once in a life-time moment
that becomes a seed of joy
that grows, blooms,
and flourishes within you
so much so that it seeps out
and spreads to other people,
and sometimes to people
who you may slowly but surely
convert and assimilate
into your very own
personal collective.

My Poem ‘The Good Reader’

From acorn to tree…
to paper… to writer…
from life to inspiration…
from the pen of a poet…
to the eyes
and the imagination of a reader…
from out of a cloud of chaos…
something new… something personal…
something that like the person
writing it down and the place
from where the paper
it is being written on came from…
something incredible made believable…
something two-dimensional brought to life
so that it may walk the walk of words
and then take a leap from the page
into the mind of the one
who is reading what is being described…
a world imagined and captured
like a bolt of lightning in a bottle…
something that is a testament
to the power of the human mind…
it is amazing what a writer can do
and what pattern of magical words
they can weave…
it is amazing what a writer
can make a person believe…
epic journey’s have begun
and have been taken
by readers following every word
of every sentence of a writer’s story…
adventures of every height, depth,
and distance have been undertaken
by people who yearn to escape reality
and let their mind and their heart run-free…
over the centuries and after all the tales
that have been told there is still nothing
better to read than a story
that is based on true-events…
even to this day there is no better thing
to experience than to be told a story
and to hear a story while sitting around
a campfire at night with a group of friends…
ghost-stories, recollections,
tales of what, where, when, how, and who with…
some stories sometimes are so amazing
and miraculous that it is hard to know
what is imaginary and what is the real-thing…
a story, like a dream, is a world
that everybody steps into, lives,
and then takes something away from…
a story, a book, a world of characters
and people who we find within a tale
that must be told and read
can teach us something that we never knew
and it can also tell us something
about ourselves…
in countless bookstores, libraries,
on countless displays and book-shelves,
there is untold treasure to be found,
infinite sunsets and sunrises to be seen,
as if staring at the horizon from a pier…
sometimes it is just impossible
to put a book or a story down
once you have begun reading it –
and no matter where a book
or a story takes you
there is only one thing that you can do,
and only one thing that you want to do:
follow the words of a writer
and be a good reader.

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My Poem ‘Psychic Arithmetic’

We all know our own minds,
but other people see more of us
than we do;
we may spend all of our time
with ourselves,
but we do not see
all the things that we do;
we may all know our own
personal likes and dislikes,
but we may not all be familiar
with all of our routines;
we all may look in the mirror,
but it is other people
who see the face that constantly changes.

By acting on instinct
we all can sometimes
take our own actions for granted;
by repeating the same tasks for a while
we can find it hard to imagine
a life that is not already
a picture and a memory in our own head;
cycles and predictive patterns
are important to life on our planet;
everybody has their preferences:
what they like to drink?
what they like to eat?
what they like like to listen to,
and what they like to watch?
Some people just do not “feel right”
if they do not keep on their
preferred side of their own bed.

Some people just know us;
some people can just read us;
some people are just like an open book;
some people can tell the story
of who they are from a single look;
some people constantly analyze;
some people speak as well see with their eyes;
some people love us – no matter how predictable
and bound by our own insecurities,
obsessions and compulsions we are;
some people think that when they see us
we shine like a star;
some people are so incredibly psychic
that their gift can be deceptive;
some people teach us every day
that there is more to learn
about all forms of nature
just by looking, observing,
understanding and deciphering
the signs and mimicking the techniques
used by the best of those schooled
in the performance of psychic arithmetic.

My Poem ‘Please give generously’

Anything is better than nothing;
time is our greatest currency;
compassion is something special
that not everybody
is instantly capable of feeling;
being there for those in need
when they need a hand to hold
and no other form of hand-out
should be the core principle
of every charity.

It isn’t until you are personally
touched by a tragedy,
or by a shock to the system,
that you start to look at the world
and realize how important
and how much another human being
can make a profound difference to your life;
it isn’t until you look for support
from someone else that you realize
there are other people out there in the world
who have at one time
been where you are
and have gone through
what you are going through;
it isn’t until you struggle
to put into words how you feel
that you realize how important it is
to have someone to wish you sweet dreams
before you fall asleep at night;
it isn’t until you accept
that you do not know every-thing
that you can have your own breakthrough.

Our loved-ones are always those
who we see and who we think about the most;
our emotions for those
who brighten our lives
are always the closest to the surface;
our memories of people we used
to know and love are our ghosts;
our time with others is precious,
and sadly there are few things
in the end that last.

In my opinion,
100% of all that is given
to a cause should make it
to the intended-recipient;
in my opinion,
the act of giving is diluted
when it becomes a means towards an end
for someone who is not directly effected by
and who knows nothing about
what it means to be someone
who feels ashamed
to ask for help from anyone;
in my opinion,
you can’t help to save a life until you see
why everybody to everyone is important;
in my opinion,
there are some people who do not realize
that if we do not all share responsibility
for the continued survival of our species
and our planet then some fights
and some struggles will never be won.

We don’t truly think about something
until it gets personal;
we don’t truly act on something
until we are effected emotionally;
we don’t truly know how hard life can be
until we are made to feel vulnerable;
we don’t truly know
how much we can contribute
to saving a life until we try –
so, whether you do it by-hand,
by using your feet,
or whether you choose
to make your mark to help others
in a way that is wholly anonymously,
give whatever you can
to someone else in need…
and, please give generously.

My Poem ‘Art & Soul’

Art is personal;
art is an expression of heart;
art is life’s missing parts;
art is the signature,
the fingerprint,
the indelible footprint,
of our soul.

To me, an artist is a magician of colour
who understands the deep emotional connections
that are ever-present throughout life;
to me, a piece of art is like a timeless child;
to me, an artist is a wizard of light;
to me, art should be seen, embraced, felt,
and it should call to you –
like the roar of a lion in the wild.

The epic mountains, the vast valleys,
the beautiful shores and seafloors of Earth,
are like a piece of one of a kind
natural sculpture –
and the time that was taken
to create and sculpt such masterpieces
was worth every second of every century;
the art painted on every cave
that still remains, and will always remain,
on the cave walls on which they were painted
are landmarks of human evolution
and creativity that are more extraordinary
than words could ever describe –
because, to me, they are proof
that not only were our ancestors
masters of hunting, gathering, and surviving,
but that they were also communicators,
dreamers and thinkers,
and curators of compelling
and powerfully evocative artistry.

Art has been a love of mine since I was a child;
even at a young age, expressing myself
with pencils, pens, colour, and paint,
was my way of letting my imagination go wild;
artists, to me, as a child, were like lords of time
who could capture a moment at its most inspiring
on a canvas that was always deeper
than it appears when seen from the side;
the moment that I first saw
Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’,
I looked into her eyes
and I instantly started to smile.

Whenever I go to an art gallery, or art exhibition;
whenever I look to the landscape of the horizon,
at any time of the day, no matter where I am,
I see art that is beautiful;
whenever I see something artistic
that somebody has made and created,
everything about me vigorously vibrates
with voracious energy and inspiration;
whenever I see art –
be it a Michelangelo, an Andy Warhol,
or a vast sandy-colored mountain rage
on the surface of the planet Mars –
I want to make my own art
and express the emotions that I feel
about what I see, in words of poetry
from my heart of art and soul.

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My Poem ‘Sex’

The greatest thing about humanity,
the thing that excites me, inspires me,
drives me, thrills me, and always makes me happy,
is the thought of the infinite
and endless potential of everyone on Earth
to do and to be whoever and whatever they want to be;
no matter their background, skin colour, disposition, or sex –
man, woman, black, or white –
you can achieve what no one would expect;
you can work hard, and do what you love,
and be an inspiration to those who will see you
as a shining example to follow,
and who will want to emulate you,
stick a picture of you up on their wall,
and look at you as their hero.

The long-held misogynistic and sexist views,
opinions, and barriers, have for the most part
been replaced by role-models of both sexes to both sexes,
who give samples of wisdom and templates off possibility
that anyone can see and copy, if they want;
however, anyone who is looked upon as a star
in the eyes of someone else will tell
any budding emulator of their craft
that they first and foremost have to take their own path,
and try not to be too much of a carbon-copy of anyone,
because, as an artist will tell you,
the best art is one that is individual
and personal to the artist who creates it,
and if you just replicate a style, a voice,
a way of being, without your own spark of creativity
infused into the mix, whatever you do
will constantly be missing something:
your touch, your taste, your heart, your imagination,
and everything else that is vital,
that no one else could possibly bring.

Both men and women, of all ages,
can be writers, artists, teachers,
musicians, singers, politicians, magicians,
drivers, divers, astronauts, police officers,
entrepreneurs, builders, designers, chefs,
shop owners, hairdressers, presidents, prime ministers,
celebrities in their own right,
because they are capable
and because they have achieved something extraordinary –
because they felt like they could make a difference to the world,
and even the problems that they may envision
coming face to face with don’t feel too complex,
and as they get closer to the goals
that they and everyone sets themselves,
it will be like achieving something amazing in the best way you can:
by taking every opportunity to show the potential they have inside them,
and focusing, and working hard to steadily make the most
and appreciate every step.
The world can change in such a short period of time,
and what will happen next, and what people will achieve,
will have everything to do with what their heart desires,
and have next to nothing to do
with their colour, creed, upbringing, or sex.

My Poem ‘Reading is Believing’

Libraries are closing everywhere I look;
the doors of places of knowledge and wonder
are being closed shut, like the covers of there books;
our breathtaking banks of inspiration are no longer protected;
I one day fear that children will miss out
on a magical and life-empowering experience,
should our libraries evaporate into a cloud of numbers and frequencies,
and as a result the future of the world will be affected.

Every day I hear about another library
under threat from being turned into a “used to be”;
every day I see people reading and entranced in a story;
every day I see people in bookstores being drawn to books
by their title and the incredible art of their covers;
every day adults and children fall in love with books
and characters for the first time –
thanks to teachers, friends, family members, fathers, and mothers.

Every second a new writer, a brand new story-teller, is born,
and continues the story of humanity;
every baby who is brought up to loving parents,
in an incredible family, is introduced to reading,
and sharing ideas, from almost the day
that they get to sleep in their own bed;
every experience has its own voice,
and some have even been reinterpreted in the form of a novel,
and then adapted into a movie.

There is no more sad or depressing story, to me,
than that of a nearby town thinking about closing a library;
I never want to see a day when the only way that words can be read
is strictly and exclusively electronically –
digital books are great, but they will never have the life-span,
or the story and journey, of a physical book,
and that is the way it will always be.

Libraries are islands of tranquility;
books are the legacy of hope, history, tragedy,
that also still carry the story and the DNA of its parent tree;
reading a book is a personal passion for some people,
and to me there is no better place to see the belief
that reading is believing than in paper books,
that are like reading every person who has ever lived’s diary;
and that is why I believe it is everyone’s duty and responsibility
to do all they can to save the libraries.

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