My Poem “The Code of Poetry”

It has always been hard for me to describe
just how much poetry means to me -
because it is hard to put into words
the power and the magic that I feel
whenever the title or the idea
for a new poem comes to me.

It's breathtaking! It's amazing!
It's exciting! It's revitalizing!
I have been writing poetry for so long
now that the ability to do so
almost feels like a sixth sense
that I can't turn on or off -
in fact, sometimes I almost feel like a conductor
who can always find a way to reach out
and attract an abundance of poetic lightning.

I have experienced moments of
exhilaration and levitation while writing poetry
that I can only compare to instances
similar to how people describe
what it feels like to have been touched
by the divine hand of an Angel or a God -
and every time that I do feel inspired
to write something I have never written before
the only way that I know
how to describe the experience is
to say that it feels like I have been given
a message that was for my eyes only,
because I alone was the only one
who could decipher this hidden,
but ever present, code of poetry.

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 “Star Wars ’77”

I will never forget the epic music
and the iconic yellow text of the opening crawl
that first introduced me to the story
of these out of this world characters
who lived a long time in a galaxy far, far away…
I will never forget seeing the sight
of that Imperial Star-Destroyer
chasing down and firing at that
Rebel Alliance ship carrying Princess Leia…
I will never forget the fear that I felt
when I first saw the imposing Darth Vader…
I will never forget seeing the droids
R2-D2 and C3PO being jettisoned into space
and finding themselves on
the desert planet of Tatooine with
the blueprints of the "Death Star" super-weapon,
as well as a message for the "only hope"
of the Rebel Alliance - someone called "Obi-wan Kenobi"…
I will never forget seeing the iconic image
of Luke Skywalker looking to the horizon as the twin suns of his planet began to set…
I will never forget Luke Skywalker and C3PO
following R2-D2 into the desert
and being attacked by "Sand People"
and Obi-wan Kenobi having to come to their rescue…
I will never forget Luke Skywalker
first igniting his father's blue Lightsaber -
however unaware that his father, Anakin Skywalker,
who he thought was now dead
was still alive and was now
none other than the evil Darth Vader…
I will never forget Obi-wan Kenobi
explaining the nature of The Force to Luke Skywalker…
I will never forget seeing Obi-wan Kenobi
and Luke Skywalker arrive at the city of Mos Eisley
and be introduced to Han Solo and Chewbacca -
and then watch Han Solo shoot first
in a stand-off against a green alien named Greedo…
I will never forget the first time I saw
the Millennium Falcon freighter take off
and then be taken aboard the Death Star
not long after the super-weapon had destroyed
Princess Leia's homeworld of Alderaan…
I will never forget seeing Luke, Han,
and Chewbacca break Leia free of her cell
and then dive head-first into the Death Star's trash-compactor…
I will never forget seeing
the former master and the apprentice,
Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi
and Sith Dark Lord Darth Vader,
reunite and face-off against one another...
I will never forget being entranced
by Obi-wan and Darth Vader dueling
one another with their blue and red lightsabers…
I will never forget Luke Skywalker watching
Darth Vader strike down Obi-wan Kenobi -
not knowing that Obi-wan had learned how
to live on after death and become a "Force ghost"…
I will never forget seeing the Millennium Falcon
surrounded by Imperial Tie Fighters
and then jump into hyperspace
and eventually deliver the stolen plans for
the Death Star to the Rebel Alliance…
I will never forget Luke Skywalker
participating in the attack on the Death Star
and being assured by the voice of Obi-wan
that "The Force will be with you, always" -
just before Luke Skywalker delivers
the one in a million shot into the exhaust port
of the Death Star leading to its destruction...
I will never forget the ceremony
when Luke Skywalker, Han Solo -
but unfortunately not Chewbacca -
were given a medal by Princess Leia
for all that they did to destroy the Death Star…
Oh yes, I will never forget the first time
that I ever saw every moment
of George Lucas' revolutionary space-opera film
that changed cinema and the world forever:
I will never forget the first time I saw
the 1977 film that simply used to be called
"Star Wars".

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 “Grieve for Them”

What can be said… what can be done…
what can be read… what can be known
about how somebody is going to act,
how somebody is going to think,
how powerless somebody is going
to feel after they lose someone
who they have known all their life –
someone who they may not have seen every day,
someone who they may not have talked
to on a regular basis,
but someone who was always there
as a source of stability and faith,
and someone who they always loved.

Words can’t describe what certain
people go through after someone
they cared for unexpectedly dies…
some people feel numb, some people feel lost,
some people feel like they have misplaced
a part of themselves immediately after
they hear the tragic news that they
will never see someone again –
and sometimes the pain that is felt is so extreme
that it overpowers a person’s
natural ability to show their sorrow
with the tears of a cry.

It’s so sad to see people suffering
from profound grief to the degree
that they recede within themselves
both physically and psychologically –
not even wanting to leave
the coccoon of their bed to eat, to drink,
to wash their face, to dress themselves
how they normally would,
nor unable to convey the hurt
that they constantly feel in their chest
as their heart attempts to heal itself
after seemingly breaking into a million pieces.

It’s a long road back to normality
after you lose someone who always made
you feel special passes away –
there isn’t anything that anybody can do for you
other than to give you the time that you need
to come to terms with the hard reality
that death is the part of life
which nobody can do anything about,
but what each and every one of us can do
is to never forget all those people
who may have left us physically
but who will always be with us in spirit,
who may have seen something in us
that we may never have seen
and who may have known us
better than we could ever truly know ourselves
and who every day we will think of,
who will love always, who we will always honour,
who we will always remember,
who we will always be grateful for the gift of,
and who not a day will go by
when we will not grieve for them.

My Poem “Forty”

Where did all the time go?
The last thing I knew I was
celebrating my thirtieth birthday,
and today I am celebrating
turning the big four-oh?
What a forty years it has been!
What a life I have lived!
When I look back I sometimes
cannot believe where I have been,
what I have done, nor who I have met
over the course of my life –
and because time goes by so fast
there are inevitably dreams that I have had
that feel like memories and there are memories
that I have made that sometimes feel like dreams.

It’s been forty years since I arrived
into this world that every day
never ceases to both surprise and inspire me…
it’s been forty years since I was
welcomed into this world with open arms
by my parents and by my family…
it’s been forty years since I first
saw another human being,
since I first smiled, since I first heard
the background music of nature
that never stops playing…
it’s been forty years since the light
of the sun bestowed upon me
the sight of miracles that will always be with me
and will continue to keep my heart beating.

I remember exactly where I was,
what I was doing, and what I was thinking
ten years ago, when I turned thirty –
and when I think back to those simpler times
I cannot believe what the last ten years
especially have given to me:
the gift of inspiration, the gift of poetry,
the gift of perpetual love,
the gift of looking above to the stars
of the night and to the bright blue
of the daytime sky, and the realisation
that life is an adventure that needs
to be lived to be fully understood.


I know who I am, I know what I am,
and I know who and what in this world
mean the most to me –
so, today, as I turn forty,
if I had to choose one word
to describe myself or my life,
I would undoubtedly have to say: Lucky –
because over the last forty years
I have been given a life filled with
moments that are the stuff of pure poetry.

My Poem “The Goodbye Song”

There was once a minstrel,
who walked from place to place,
who was known for being extremely lyrical,
who always had a smile on his face.

The minstrel was always outwardly hopeful,
the minstrel was always a beacon of optimism;
however, the minstrel was not invulnerable
and occasionally he felt like he was living
in some kind of psychological prison.

The minstrel loved to walk,
the minstrel loved the open road
that to him had always seemed unending;
however, one day the minstrel
found himself unable to sing,
unable to smile, unable to talk –
as if he had been struck
by a lightning bolt
that shook him to his core.

The minstrel found himself
somewhere he had never imagined existed:
the minstrel had arrived within a place
without light which he could not exit.

The minstrel did not know where he now was –
but, for the first time in his life,
having previously always known
where to go and what to say,
all that the minstrel felt
at this moment was lost.

The minstrel finally decided to take
his lute in his hands and give
the strings that he knew so well
one final strum –
and then, as he continued to walk
further into the darkness of the unknown,
the minstrel started to play,
to nobody but himself and the void,
what he called his “Goodbye Song”.

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.