The more you live, the more you grow,
the more you see, the more you hear,
the more you experience things changing
in profound, considerable, and unexpected ways,
the more you become aware and accustomed
to the insatiably complex nature of the world…
the more you learn about yourself
and the way things are and have always been,
the more you start to understand
and appreciate the things that have happened -
both the good and the bad -
that everything and everyone
has in common with each other…
the more you believe in the power of a person
to be able to change their mind
about what they have always believed,
the more that you realise that people
are not just driven by instinct alone;
because sometimes some people have such
an outpouring of empathy and compassion
for others whom they don’t know
that they even surprise themselves
and their level of charity and generosity
as a result can even surprise and surpass
any and every expectation that they
might have had of their own actions…
the more you do to educate yourself
on what is true and what is false,
on what can be described and what can be proven,
the more you learn that so much
of what we all do and what we have always done
comes down to what we are capable of sacrificing
in order to achieve a sense of purpose in our lives -
and sometimes the price we are faced with
we deem to be too high,
while sometimes some people find
that have no choice but to do what must be done…
the more you do not judge the person next to you,
or the person who is just trying to do their best
to find out why they are who and what they are,
the more that you will see that nothing and nobody
will ever truly fit the model of who they are
sometimes told they are expected to be -
because even those people who attempt
to publicly emulate someone else
behind closed doors everyone is their own self
with their own thoughts, feelings, and emotions
on things and on people, but sometimes
everybody has to keep their own council
on what to say and what not to say;
however, there are some people who
believe that it is their responsibility
to challenge, to argue, and to defend
each and every arena of self-expression,
because there are so many places in the world
where the freedom to say, and to be
who you want to be, is not a guarantee…
the more you accept that the more you know
the more you will be able to make something
that much more interesting and meaningful to you,
the more you will experience a new and a sometimes
more nuanced view of everything and everyone,
and the more that you see the cracks in the facade
of those who portray themselves as someone
and something seemingly untouchable
to the overriding principles and the laws of nature -
those described, as well as those intrinsic
to life as we know it on this planet -
the more you can come to realise that nothing
you can imagine is ever truly
outside of the realms of possibility.
Poetry
My Poem “Count to Ten”
I was once a poet of a single poem…
I was once a dreamer of a dream…
I was once a rambler of fields of gold…
I was once a boy who loved, who laughed,
and who saw the world with an eternally optimistic eye…
I was once a believer in everything that I saw,
everything that I heard, and in everyone whom I met;
however, over time, I was struck
by multiple instances of unpredictability
that changed the course of my life forever…
I can still remember who I was and where I was
when so many of the things that happened
to me left their mark upon me…
I can can still remember writing that first verse,
that first step, that first gift of adoration and love
which was the spark of inspiration that I needed
to start the fire of creativity within me
that has only grown in size, heat, and ferocity,
as I have allowed myself to evolve as a writer
and as an author into whatever, whomever,
wherever I believe I have always been destined to be…
unlike some, I have never been afraid of words;
in fact, words are powerful and sacred to me
in ways that are sometimes hard to describe -
because words matter to me,
because words energise me,
because words feel so natural to me,
and whenever I write a collection of words,
especially poetry, I feel like I am writing something
that only I could write and something
that I do not require anyone but me to understand…
a sphere, a sound, a multiverse, a path, a story -
throughout each of my eras and experiences
as a poet and a writer, I have witnessed
change happen around me,
as well as change happen within me,
that has sometimes been challenging to face,
to overcome, and to experience;
however, I know that I have no choice
but to continue doing what I know I have to do:
to keep going, to keep dreaming, to keep writing,
to keep being fascinated by things and by people,
to keep my eyes, my ears, and my mind open -
because there are times when everyone
has to admit that things are different
from what and how they expected them to be,
and which is why it is always helpful in certain situations
to take a moment to look, to listen, to consider,
and then count to ten before making a decision
about what to do, where to go,
and about who they want to be
in the next phase of their future.
My Poem “In Echo and Reflection”
Whenever I see a photograph
of myself from childhood,
or whenever I hear my own voice
from decades past,
I am always reminded of how young I was,
I am always reminded of how untainted I was,
I am always reminded of how naive I was,
and I am always reminded of how much
I have changed, and also how much
I haven’t changed and will never change…
whenever I look back upon my own memories
I am always having to remind myself
that things might not have happened
exactly as I remember them happening -
because, no matter how good we think our memory is,
each of our memories and recollections
are always subject to our emotions -
and the farther away we are from
something that happened
the more that our perception of reality
becomes distorted and rewritten
with the version of our own internal narrative…
whenever I read something that I wrote
from years ago, when I was younger
and more inclined to believe everything
and take everybody on face value,
I look back on recent events
when my view on something or someone
was challenged and subsequently changed as a result -
and that is when I realise how important
is it to stay in the moment,
but not forget why things are
the way that they are
and why things were never meant to be
different than how they turned out…
whenever I read something I wrote,
whenever my own words and my own actions
return to me in some way,
I remember the fact that the past
is constantly talking to the present,
just as the present talks to
and perhaps even influences the past
in more ways than we realise,
and I find myself not regretting anything that I have done -
because we are all creating and recreating
our own version of our life
which only we have control over…
whenever I hear others talk about me
in the third person,
I always wonder how and why others
see me as they do and what it is about me
that has stayed with them
and reminds them of me -
but then of course there are the things
and there are the people whom I have known
who might not have as glowing of an opinion
of me as they used to;
however, I have learned that it doesn’t matter
what someone who is no longer in your life
thinks about you,
because it is those people
who take the time to reach out to you
and who want nothing but the best for you
who give you what you need, when you need it;
and when it all comes down to it,
everything and everyone all sound different,
and everything and everyone look different,
whenever they are heard as an echo
or whenever they are seen in reflection.
My Poem “The Life of a Story”
Every story is an alternate reality,
a parallel universe, a world of possibilities…
every story is filled with characters
all bound by the rules of there individual realities…
every story has its own meaning to be told…
every story has its own seasons and history
that informs the present and the future
by repeating the same the echoes of the past
which never get old…
every story is different, and its own,
and yet connected to every other…
every story continues beyond that which
can be read within the pages between
the front and the back covers…
every story should be written
by those who are meant to write it,
but every story deserves to read by everybody…
every story can make a difference
to the lives of people who are drawn
to the magic and the poetry of the art
that they feel hypnotised by,
like a moth to a flame…
every story has a special place in the heart
of its creator and its author,
because no matter how many times it is read
no one but the writer of a story could ever
write the story of dedication that it took
to make a story clear and correct
after what can sometimes feel like a lifetime
of existing within a mist of mistakes…
every story has its own version of itself within it
that someone is writing simultaneously,
and every story has its own version of its author
living their life and being who they are supposed to be -
and within every story there are those
who sometimes dream that they are characters
in someone else’s story,
but they can never find the words to explain why…
every story has a beginning, an end,
as well as a conclusion -
however every story is a journey that begins
with the answer and the conclusion of another story,
because the truth is that every story is all one story
written into the words of every person,
even if they don’t realise it,
and every time anyone thinks they know
everything about every story they have been told
someone else will have their own version of the same story
and a new reality, a new universe,
and a new world is created, over and over again,
that continues to change and evolve
the way in which anyone can tell, retell,
and give new meaning to the life of a story.
My Poem “I Am Done”
I am done waiting
for things, for experiences,
for people, for answers…
I am done wasting my time
on what doesn’t matter,
and on those who can’t even lift a finger
to get in touch with me and others
for reasons that may never be made clear…
I am done worrying
about what never was
and what was never supposed to be…
I am done autocorrecting myself
for those who don’t seem to have learned
how to filter what they say
before they say it…
I am done giving people
the benefit of the doubt
to those who show by their actions and their inaction
what and who they really care about…
I am done with those people
who are like a weight around my neck,
who cannot accept that I don’t have a Time Machine
to go back and change the past…
I am done wondering
if and when I will get my heart’s desire,
because I believe that I have done too much,
I have seen too much, I have heard too much,
I have learned and I now know too much
to forget that the only way to find true happiness
is to live your life with a spirit of self-worth
and respect for yourself and for your loved ones,
because memories can only be made and shared
by those who show up when there is
a mutual need for the presence of one another…
I am done with the play of those who
just want to suck the life, the energy, the joy,
and the hope out of others
because they claim they deserve better
than what they have been given in life…
I am done with giving up -
and I will not be dragged down
into another level of the depths of darkness
or into another fight
by those who will never understand
that nothing changes
just because you choose to turn out the light…
I am sure that I am not the only one
who looks around the world and sees people
trying to get away with doing
whatever they want to do
without thinking about the repercussions,
and that is why I will never stop rebelling against
what I am told to believe -
and I do not apologise for saying
to those who may wish
to manipulate me in any way in the future:
I am done.
My Poem “Inter Arma”
Trigger Warning!
Whenever you turn on your television,
whenever you read a newspaper,
whenever you see images posted online,
whenever you open your eyes
and you brace yourself to see
what is going on around the world,
especially in this day and age,
you would not be mistaken for thinking
that this world was once again at war with itself;
however, in truth, this world
hasn’t known a period of perpetual peace for a long time -
but right now feels as if this world
has never been more fragmented,
and as if the most powerful countries
on Earth have never been
more polarised from one another…
when I see that the President of the United States of America
has signed an executive order declaring that
the “Department of Defense”
now be renamed the “Department of War”,
I start to believe that there has been
a change in direction enacted
by the leader of one of the world’s
most powerful superpowers -
and that is when I start to wonder
whether there will be a future
for the children of this world
in which they will know what it is like to live in peace,
instead of living in fear and never knowing
what it like to be hopeful and optimistic…
I am deeply troubled at the thought
of how many people have died
recently around the world
because they have been caught in the crossfire
of a conflict that they never wanted to be involved in,
I mourn for those innocent souls who have lost their lives
through no fault of their own,
and my heart goes out to all those people
who have lost loved ones as well as their
homes and their livelihoods
because they were overwhelmed
by the force of the storm of death and destruction
that war always rains down upon
everyone who find themselves in a war zone
that was once a place where many considered their home…
this world has been here before,
this world has been on the brink
of self-destruction because of humanity many times -
because we have allowed the unstoppable
war machine to continue to do what it does best:
build better weapons and come up with more efficient ways
to annihilate as many people as possible -
which, in my opinion, is the antithesis of the best of humanity…
every time I see what humanity is doing to itself,
every time I see the destruction and the decimation
that has been inflicted upon the homes of the victims,
and whenever I see the faces of the survivors
of the attacks and the atrocities that have been committed
by the opposing factions of a war,
I struggle to understand and to imagine
how and when this world will ever come to its senses
and end the suffering of the world once and for all;
however, I cannot help myself
from continuing to hope that one day
the long shadow that the world now lives underneath
will disappear and humanity will become
less obsessed with building and using
weapons of mass destruction
and bring about a present when we will never again
have to live in a state such as the one
it feels as if we are living in right now:
an era that undoubtedly feels
like a time of war.
My Poem “Sit”
Sit… Just sit…
Sit and listen to the sounds all around you…
What do you hear? What do I hear?
I hear the sound of train wheels,
against the backdrop of the sound of birdsong,
and then nothing, or almost “nothing” -
because I believe that there is
no such thing as “nothing”;
because there is always something happening
in this world and on every world,
even though from a distance
it might not seem that way.
First thing in the morning
has its own soundtrack
that is more serene, subtle, and subdued
in comparison to the rest of the day…
first thing in the morning
people and the world’s wildlife
are just waking up and undertaking
their daily routines and rituals
that will hopefully keep them
in good stead when it comes
to doing what they have to do,
and perhaps where they have to be…
first thing in the morning
there in an ambience of calmness
and a sense of peace -
however, before long, new sounds
make themselves be heard
and fill the air with noises
and voices that cannot be easily muted,
and what follows can be like
a sonic wave that overwhelms
everything and everyone else -
especially within a city.
There is nothing better than
sitting on a park bench,
as the afternoon sun shines down upon you,
and as the breeze rises ever so slightly
and gives you and your skin a gentle caress…
there is nothing better than
sitting on a beach, on a towel,
or perhaps while walking through
the crashing waves of a ocean,
and instantly feeling and understanding
the nature of the world
and all of our connections to it -
whether we realise the actual depths
that our integral bond reaches.
At sunset - and especially just after sunset -
when the sun is on the verge of fully descending
below the horizon and darkness rises,
that is when the sights and sounds of twilight
echo all around and make up us all feel
as if we are connected to something otherworldly,
but familiar at the same time:
the end, the beginning, the universe, life itself…
after nightfall, as the sound of cicadas can be heard,
as the hunters of the dark undertake
their nightly moonlit pursuit of their prey,
and as young and old dream of being able
to accomplish their hearts desires,
the stars of the cosmic sky above shine silently -
and yet, there is more to be found
and there is more to be heard
and discovered than could ever be imagined,
expected, nor explained;
and this is why it is important
to sometimes take the precious time
that is gifted to you and make the most of it,
when you are given the golden opportunity
to sit down and take a seat.
My Poem “Soldier On”
Life is full of surprises…
the world is full of possibilities…
everybody can be happy one day
and then sad the next…
each of us all go through times
of grief and loss that make us
who will be going forward for the rest of our lives…
the best of us are often called upon
to pick ourselves up and asked
to commit ourselves to a cause
that is worth more than could possibly be known…
even those who may have never known
the hardships of those who have had
to fight their entire lives
sometimes have to become something
and someone who has to daily find the strength
to keep going and to keep doing what they
have been asked to do by a higher power
than themselves…
over time friends can become strangers,
allies can become adversaries,
and the relationships that we all share with some people
can become upended and never return
to how they once were -
because everything and everyone always changes…
pain and suffering can be the catalyst
responsible for transforming
an innocent into a soldier
who has to become a selfless survivor
on the battlefield of life that they envision before them -
while in private even the most fearless
and inspiring of leaders cry for their old life
and wish to return to a place and a time
when things were simpler
and they weren’t living every minute of their lives
as if they were in the middle of a war…
even the most beautiful of sunrises and sunsets
can give brief moments of peace, silence, and solace
to those who have little time to spare to enjoy the world
for how others still see and believe it to be;
however, time marches on,
the world continues to spin on its axis,
and the endless cycle of violence and chaos
does not stop spreading its shadow
across the landscape of the world -
and all any of us can do is keep to our word,
to stay true to the path in front of us, to keep doing our best,
to keep being all that we can be,
as we all soldier on.
My Poem “A Beacon of Light and Life”
As I walk through the shadows
and the streaks of sunlight
on a bright and beautiful Sunday morning,
as I listen to the sound of birdsong,
as I watch the ducks and the geese
awaken and then glide effortlessly
across the water of a nearby pond,
as the multiple white trails of jet planes
can be seen creating their own
patterns across the blue sky above,
I am once again reminded of how much
there is to be grateful for -
while I am also reminded of
what has been lost and who,
and what, will continue to stand
the test of time and nature.
As I look at the numerous green leaves of trees,
as I look at the intricacy of the petals of the flowers,
as I look at the blades of grass
as they move passively after
being touched by the tenderness
by the gentle breeze,
as I look across the rolling fields
and I see hay bales waiting to be collected,
I think back to simpler times
when I lived as if there was no tomorrow
and when I took the presence of people
in my life for granted without even knowing it.
As I see the poetry of life all around me,
as I glimpse moments of timelessness,
as I witness instances that make me
reflect upon the past, as well
as the world of the now,
I wonder about how far I have come
and how far I still have yet to travel,
and how my experience of life
is unique to me and to me alone -
but I also continue to feel as if,
though I am on a solo journey of discovery,
I have been, and I will always be, reminded
of the incredible connection that I have
always felt to this world of colour, beauty,
inspiration, stories, and change
that shines even amongst the other planets
of the heavens above, because to me it is
a haven of life and a beacon of light.
My Poem “Magic”
I have always been a fast writer…
I have always been a slow reader…
I have always been a fast typer…
I have always been a slow listener…
I have always been able to see, to hear,
to feel the sound and the rhythm of words
and be spellbound by their ability
to make sense of the world,
while being aware and fascinated
by the fact that each word
has their own story to tell of their origin…
I have always been curious about
how a word can come to mean
so much to so many -
even now, I am wondering:
What was the first word?
Who invented the first word?
When, where, and why
was the first word uttered?
What did the first word mean?
And, after it was first used,
was the first word used repeatedly
and to the extent that it was understood
and considered to be something
that someone generations in the future
would be wondering about?
I wonder - that is what I do…
I wander - that is also something that I do…
I watch, I wait, I weave silent tapestries
of poetry within my mind,
as the world races by…
I welcome the opportunity to be inspired
by whatever angel wishes to sit upon my shoulder
and whisper into my ears -
because I know how intense
and powerful an idea can be,
and I know what can be achieved
and where you can go
if you decide to make a move that you know
will influence the rest of your life.
In my time, I have met wizards…
in my life, I have met witches…
in my memories, I see things
that even now I am still trying to believe…
in my dreams is where and when
I face my fears, and every day I feel compelled
to bring people together
and to be a guide for others to follow -
just as the Messenger God, Hermes,
once instructed me to be one night
in a vision that I still remember so vividly…
in my heart I have always hoped for the best,
and I have always wanted the world to be
whatever those who work hard want it to be -
but my faith in some heroes and some role-models
renowned for their gift to touch humanity
with their artistic abilities
has on occasion been proven to have been misplaced,
and I have had to reexamine, reevaluate,
and revise my opinion on those
who have been exposed as devilish individuals…
I have always been known to be one who -
even when seemingly surrounded by uncertainty -
chooses to find a way out of wherever I find myself,
and I always start by choosing to never panic;
because I know that I always have a secret weapon
that will always keep me from
falling into a void of no return,
and there is no other word for what I know to be possible,
nor another way to describe what lies within me
and a select group of artistic individuals,
other than the ephemeral and overwhelming
sound and sensation that we have all felt
when we have witnessed something
that could only be captured, in a word,
to be nothing other than “magic”.
Mark The Poet 