Place
My Poem “Nature and Me”
There are some mornings
when I walk out into
the bright light of a new day
when I feel like I am being
compelled to walk in a particular
direction so that I may go somewhere
that my heart, my mind, my soul,
the path before me needs me to be –
and sometimes the place I am drawn to
is somewhere I find myself returning to:
a place where I felt an awakening within me.
A place of tall trees that has always
felt like a natural cathedral, a church,
a temple, a place of worship
that has always meant so much to me…
a sacred place that I have a connection to
since the moment I walked under
the sun-drenched summer leaves
of its canopy and since I first
walked upon and through the
glowing green grass that in
the summer time carpets
the forest floor before me.
A place of beauty seemingly far away
from the rest of the world
that has inspired countless inhales
of intoxication of the pine laced air
that has always been the cure
and the spark to bring alive
and bring together every thought,
every instinct, every hope,
every beat of my heart in unison
with one another.
When I am walking on my own
I always feel like I have been gifted
and I am following the path
that I need to take to bring
everything into focus, to give me clarity,
to see the poetry that explains
things so simply and yet so profoundly
without the need for an audible
explanation to be heard.
A spirit, a joy, a presence
has on numerous occasions
made me close my eyes and open
my arms wide as I take in every moment
that I feel directly connected
to the source of all life in the universe
that I feel is my greatest gift
and which I believe is that
inexplicable perception of reality
that people for a long time have had
many names for but which is commonly
known as their “sixth sense” –
that is what I feel and that is what I see
when there is no one else around
and it is just nature and me.
My Poem “Skyline”
Every city is constantly
remaking itself and is a mixture
of the old and the new,
and Birmingham is no different.
There is always so much to see
and so much to experience,
and no matter what day of the week it is
I always look upon its many different
buildings and its diverse population
and I think positively
and optimistically about
what it has always been, what it is,
what it will one day be,
and how it and the people
who make it what it is
will be seen when looked upon
from the ground or from high above
and among the many buildings
that make up is iconic skyline.
My Poem “Outlet”
Everyone has something inside of them…
everyone has something to share…
everyone has a source from which
they draw their power…
everyone has a need all their life
to explore further down the path
that leads to who knows where…
everyone has a flame
that they gravitate towards…
everyone has a time in their life
when they want to go backwards
at the same time they are going forwards…
everyone has a place – a cafe, a bar,
a room, a forum, a gathering,
that they worship, that makes them happy –
where they can go to relax and be themselves…
everyone has a favourite reality –
whether it is one of familiarity,
or one of fantasy –
where they can dream and imagine
living a completely different way of life
within the stories that can be found
stacked next to one another on a bookshelf…
everyone has to have an escape…
everyone has to have somewhere else –
even if that place is in their mind
where they can do what they want to do
and where they can say what they want to say…
everyone has to have a place, a time,
or a person, where, when, or to whom they can vent…
everyone – no matter who they are –
has to have an outlet.
My Poem “Take Me Back”
While bathed in the golden light of evening,
at the end of this hot summer’s day,
I find myself looking West to the horizon,
and wishing that I could turn back the clock
to a time in my life and to a place
that I remember and I revisit every day…
a time and a place, a love,
the face that I could never live without
of someone important to me,
who I love from head to toe,
who completes me, and who I miss
the touch of more than I could ever say,
who melts my mind and inflames my heart,
who is as perfect in every way
as seeing a field of sunflowers swaying in the breeze
and glowing from their yellow leaves…
I love my blond-haired, blue-eyed, angel
more than she could ever know –
and I cannot wait for the day
when I can wrap my arms around her again,
look into her eyes, and tell her that I am hers forever
and that she will always mean everything to me…
take me back… take me back a year…
take me back to Georgia…
take me back to my favourite wooden porch
with its American flag displayed proudly from it…
dear lord, take me back to my idea of heaven on Earth…
take me back… take me back to Melissa.
My Poem “The Safe Place”
Everybody has that where,
everybody has that when,
everybody has that place
and that time which matters to them…
everybody has that bubble,
everybody has that parallel world,
everybody has that mirror to step through
when they want to retreat into themselves
and create a space away from the outside world…
everybody from a young age chooses somewhere –
whether it be in front of a screen,
or in between the ear-buds of a pair of headphones,
or within the pages of a book,
or interacting and sharing with others socially
over an interconnected world wide network –
that always makes them feel comfortable and at home,
and when they are there the magic that they find
is sometimes impossible to put into words…
everybody needs a refuge, everybody needs a paradise,
everybody needs a universe within themselves
where they can dream, imagine, and play-out
things that need to be explored
that could one day be brought out
and manifested into the real world
and be transformed from meta-physical
into a physical and solid totem of peace…
everybody has the key to their own place within
where they go to to feel for a short time
that feeling of euphoria that awaits us all
when we return to our own private safe place.
My Poem “A place and a time”
A photographer capturing an artist,
capturing a place, capturing a moment of time…
A poet inspired by an artist,
inspired by the muse of life,
capturing the instant of a lifetime…
A gift shared, feelings painted,
high above and in view
of a carousel that you might expect to find
at a fun-fair,
an artist uses all the colours
of his heart and soul to imprint upon their canvas
a picture perfect miracle of creativity…
A place has an unique voice
that sometimes speaks to an artist…
An artist interprets and is inspired
by an experience and a moment
in ways that vary from person to person…
Sometimes a painting paints itself,
sometimes a poem writes itself,
sometimes a moment captures itself
and becomes a part of someone’s heart
and changes their life…
A moment can come and go in a flash –
however that is the most beautiful thing about life:
that it is finite…
and if you ask me and many others like me,
I and they would tell you that
every moment craves and calls out to be captured –
because every moment of time is a place,
and every place captured
is an infinite moment of time.
My Poem ‘The Wilder Tower’
I will never forget the first time I saw
and the first that I climbed the steps
of the “Wilder Tower” – the lightning tower…
I will never forget the silence that I heard
and the feeling of peace that I felt
when I stood atop the stone-built tower
that stands as a monument in a former battlefield
in Chickamauga, Georgia…
I will never forget and I could never truly describe
what I was thinking and what it meant to me
to be where I was and with whom I was with…
I will never forget what came over me,
nor how fast my heart was beating,
as we were standing and looking below and beyond
to the green-grass and to the trees
that stretch to the horizon in almost every direction…
I felt as if I had always been meant to be there,
and as if the tower itself had been calling to me
and beckoning to me all my life.
The Wilder Tower stands tall and steady,
and over the years since its construction first began
it has literally weathered everything:
from a delay in its building,
to being hit during a thunder-storm
by a bolt of blue-lightning…
the Wilder Tower is magnetic
and it is a place that draws people to it…
the Wilder Tower is somewhere anybody can go
to climb, to stop, to think,
and to call out for an answer
from whomever may be listening…
the Wilder Tower is a powerful place
to find inspiration if you are romantic
or artistically-inclined,
especially if you a young-lover,
an artist, and a poet.
To some people, a building is just a building …
to some people, a tower is just a tower…
to some people, a memorial to a battle
is just a reminder of a violent past –
however, to me, certain places have great meaning
and they have the draw and the gravity
that they do for reasons
that are sometimes spiritual in nature…
our planet – the world that gives us
all that we could ever possibly want or need –
has many places on it that will forever have a memory
imbued and associated with it
that will always make them places
that are meaningful and special…
I have stood atop skyscrapers –
from the towering Empire State Building
to the beautiful Rockefeller Center in New York City –
and though those buildings and the skylines
that I saw will stay with me forever
in my memories that I will always remember,
nothing and nowhere could compare
to the first time that I stood looking at,
climbing the stairs of,
and then standing atop of
and high-above the ground,
with my heart in my hands,
while smiling and in-awe
of the 85-foot tall
Wilder Tower.
My Poem ‘Where do you go?’
Where do you go
in a moment of silence?
Where do you go
to find yourself?
Where do you go
when people see you
looking off into space?
Where do you go
to feel safe and sound?
To some people, music is a place –
a world which they visit every day
that makes them happy
and which inspires them to create
a work of art that becomes so real to them
that can no longer be bound
solely within their mind;
to some people, their imagination
is like an ocean of fantastic
and mysterious discoveries
to be found every time they choose to dive;
to some people, everything that they see
is like a strand of inspiration
which they cannot help themselves
from pulling and seeing what follows;
to some people, it is a castle,
it is a kingdom, it is a reality,
it is a place built by them,
but influenced by many different things
that they retreat to –
and sometimes what is going on
on the outside, in someone’s life,
has a dramatic bearing
on the destination and the colour-palette
of the place within where they go.
Some people revisit the past…
some people imagine the future…
some people slow down their life
as the world around them races by too fast…
some people hold-on to hope with all that they have,
while others worry too much
and are incarcerated and paralyzed by their fears.
To day-dream is an amazing thing;
to be preoccupied by something on your mind is natural;
to realize a dream-come-true
sometimes you have to let your guard down
and lower your defenses so that your voice can sing;
to overcome something, which to you at the time
feels impossible, is incredible –
our limitations are ussually those of our own making,
and to truly turn your life around and be content
you have to sometimes drown-out the voices of doubt
and paint the picture that you want to see.
Walking through nature
is a great way to open doors in your mind
to new and undiscovered frontiers
that are just waiting to be created and unveiled;
when your attention is completely focused on something
it is like being on a one-way highway
with no way to go but straight-ahead;
saving some time for what you love
and for what makes you smile,
no matter what other people may say or think,
is more important than you could know;
everybody must have a sanctuary…
everybody must have a place of peace…
doing something, doing nothing in particular…
everybody must take a moment of time,
make it last, and make the most of it –
because time is as unique
and precious as a snowflake…
so, my question to you is:
where do you go?
My Poem ‘The Whispering Gallery’
Every Sunday,
bang on 10 o’clock in the morning,
the bells of St. Martin’s church
ring-out loud and far –
and every Sunday,
when I am standing and listening
in the most perfect spot
that can be found in all the city,
over time I have discovered
an amazing phenomenon…
just as every whispering gallery
that can be found in places
that are often places of silence
and peaceful serenity,
if you whisper a wish into the air,
and it is carried away on the wind
in the right direction,
then that same wish will come true one day
after having been delivered directly to heaven
by the wings of a listening angel –
and that almost silent prayer
will echo and create epic waves,
like an ocean being skipped upon by a stone,
and you will have been blessed –
even though the evidence of what has taken place
and by whom may have already disappeared without a trace.
The bells of St. Martin’s church ring for almost an hour –
the are a source of hope for many, and they have a power.
Church bells, to me, have always had a solemn beauty to them;
church bells are like the accent of a place of worship’s voice,
and I think they are wonderfully important;
church bells have a way of drawing people to them like a beacon;
you have never felt such a feeling like that
of being as close as you can be
to the breathtaking vibrations of sound
that are produced when ancient bells are ringing
and hammers are hitting their mark in a bell-tower.
The world is one big whispering-gallery;
the Earth has places on it
where the magical can be conjured into being
with the flick of a magic-wand
disguised as an ink-pen;
some people want something so much
but they are afraid to ask for help from anybody –
sometimes things can only be heard
when they are said in the first where
and at the right when…
so, I encourage anybody who feels something special
when they are somewhere,
even if that place may not look anywhere
that may be at all “somewhere to write home about”
to let their inner-most thoughts and wishes
be set free into the atmosphere
of the worlds biggest whispering gallery.
Mark The Poet 