My Poem “The Poetry of Life”

Let the wind blow…
let the raindrops fall…
let the record show
and let it be known by all
that I love every moment
of every season of this wonderful
planet that we should all
worship and adore…
let the sun shine…
let the rainbows arc across the sky…
let the green ivy leaves
be graced by their seasonal red berries…
let new mandalas of colour
be created by fallen droplets
of oil upon the wet roads…
let people venture far and wide –
through forests and trees
and through dark clouds
to find out what is on the other side…
let things be what they are supposed to be…
let people do what comes naturally…
let the dreamers dream…
let the artists create…
let the waters of discontent evaporate…
let the children play…
let nature do what it does unapologetically:
breathe in and breathe out the poetry of life.

My Poem “Everything means something”

With every leaf that falls,
with every moment that passes,
with every word that is spoken,
each of us always want more:
more time with certain people,
more things to enjoy,
more experiences to one day recall,
more gifts of the life that we have been given –
because the world is not enough,
because the universe is constantly
changing and evolving,
and we all want to be there
when the next quantum leap
in something becomes an every day thing.

With every year that seemingly flies by,
I am reminded of just how precious
every word, every smile,
every touch, every look into the eye
of someone who matters to me is,
because what we have with people
has an end time –
not in an emotional sense,
but most definitely in a physical sense –
which is why as I get older I consider
people of significance to me
as if they were flowers,
butterflies, or fireflies,
because the indefinable colours
and the spark of life that makes
somebody who and what they are
transitions over time into
becoming something entirely different.

With every new season,
we see changes in colour,
we see changes in light,
we see changes in perspective,
and we see changes in
our perception of time:
as some people get older
a new day’s sunrise and a sunset
seemingly happens within
the blink of an eye of one another
and days can be experienced
as if they were minutes or hours –
which is why I believe now
more than ever what has been
told to me all my life:
never forget where you came from
nor what the cost was for you
to have who and what you have
in your life –
because, when you think of it,
everything means something.

My Poem “Getting Ahead of Myself”

As a child, I always looked to the future…
as a child, when I imagined what would be,
I was always sure that things would turn out
like they were predicted to
in films and in television shows
that I watched which depicted
a world to come when anything
and everything was possible:
including vacations on the Moon,
underwater cities, and, of course, time-travel.

As a child, I was always hopeful
of a bright and inspirational tomorrow –
because looking immediately
for the positive of any situation
for me has always been in my nature…
as a child, I was like Luke Skywalker,
in the Star Wars movies:
always looking to the horizon
and always believing that anybody –
even someone as seemingly
bad as Darth Vader could be
redeemed and returned
from the dark side to the light.

As a child, fantasy worlds
drew me to them, because
what I saw and who I saw
had this magic to them
that had aspects to them
that were incredibly enthralling –
including: quests, adventures,
and other realities that seemed
wonderfully exciting.

As a child, real life was somewhere
where I interacted with my family,
where I hung out with my friends,
where I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner,
and where there wasn’t such things
as flying cars, teleporters,
jet-packs, and robots who
looked as human as anybody I knew –
but I knew that one day all those
things that the television showed me
would come true one day.

As an adult, when I look around
at the world of the present –
while simultaneously reflecting
back upon the past and at what I used
to believe would be a reality
when I was all grown-up –
there are times when I genuinely
have to ask myself,
in the words of Freddie Mercury:
“Is this the real life? Or is this just fantasy?”

As I have grown older
and as I have seen and experienced
even more of the world,
my instant impulse to imagine
possibilities before they happen
is still my immediate instinct –
and though there have indeed
been times in my life when my belief
that the world is innately hopeful
and optimistic has been tested,
I will never be convinced by
anything or by anybody
to stop reaching for that which
seemingly lies upon a higher shelf of life,
and I will never stop being someone
who naturally and occasionally
gets ahead of himself.

My Poem “Scary Movies”

As a child, I – like so many children do –
grew up watching so called
“scary movies”, “horror films”,
that truly scared me,
and I also watched thrilling
and occasionally comedic depictions
of fictional, supernatural and paranormal
events and characters
that made me jump, entertained me,
made my heart beat fast, made me smile,
and put me in a good mood…
films like ‘It’, ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’,
‘Jaws’, and ‘Alien’ initially effected me
on an emotional level –
however now I can appreciate
the “fright tactics” of the film-makers,
because what feeling they were
attempting to illicit in people
is what they succeeded in making
me feel quite profoundly…
I also watched such paranormal comedies,
like: ‘Ghostbusters’, ‘The Addams Family’,
‘The Munsters’, ‘Beetlejuice’ –
which were fun to watch,
enjoyable, and they did not
take their subject matter too seriously.

Even to this day, I still occasionally
watch scary movies –
and I would have to highlight
the films that take place in the
“Conjuring Universe”, that feature
fictional depictions of real-life
paranormal investigators
Ed and Lorraine Warren,
based upon documented
supernatural experiences
that occurred around the world,
as being some of the scariest,
the most thrilling, the most heart-racing,
and the most believable of any
and all of the scary movies
that I have seen recently
and the experiences that I had
of seeing them in a cinema
will forever stay with me.

If could pick just one
so called “scary movie”,
or a particular supernatural thriller,
that I believe is my favourite
of all that have been made,
I would have to choose
‘The Shining’, directed by Stanley Kubrick,
based upon the book of the same name
by the one and only “master of horror”,
Stephen King – because to me
‘The Shining’ is a masterpiece
of both storytelling and film-making
that entances you from the first
camera shot and from the first
note of music of the film’s soundtrack –
just as the original ‘Jaws’ does;
and, in my opinion, the ability
of movie-makers to be able to
take a viewer on a roller-coaster
ride of emotions, thoughts,
and feelings, while watching
something “otherworldly”,
by using all the magic of
movie-making at their disposal,
in a truly collaborative effort,
is what contributes to what makes
the most thrilling and the most scary
of thrilling and scary movies.

Happy Halloween! ๐ŸŽƒ

My Poem “2020 Decision”

Everybody has a voice...
everybody has a choice...
everybody deserves the right
to be able to put a line or an "X"
in a box on a ballot paper
for somebody who they have faith in
to do what must be done
to reinvigorate and re-establish
the individual rights of a citizen...
everybody can make a difference
if they choose to show up,
if they choose to make their mark,
and if they choose to vote
with their heart, with their mind,
and if they choose to listen to
what their intuition is telling them to do,
when they need to make
what could turn out to be
a decisive and a historic decision.

My Poem “Start Early”

Some of the most profound
and prolific artists started
creating art early…
some of the most revered
and remembered artists
all began their artistic journey
by being a day-dreamer…
some of the most insightful
and incredible artists
started every new day with
questions about the universe
and their place within it…
some of the most powerful
and poetic artists begin
with a blank canvas
and with an impulse to
to describe something with
descriptive and definitive words
if they are a writer,
or with colour and texture
like that of the brush-strokes of a painter…
some of the most amazing
and astonishing artists
start out doing what they love
to do simply for fun…
some of the most inspiring
artists were inspired and
can inspire others simply…
some of the artists who
have the most unique of voices
speak with their art as
if they were standing within
a forest of trees basking
in the afternoon light of the sun…
some people discover their
secret identity as an artist later in life,
and some people hear the call
of creativity when they are still a child
and forever afterwards as a adult
whatever path they proceed upon
they always start early.

My Poem “Tony Soprano”

There has never been a TV show since,
and there may never be a TV show
again,
like the hit show ‘The Sopranos’ –
and there will never be another
character like Tony Soprano:
the Mob Boss of North New Jersey,
who in my opinion was the first
anti-hero on TV who was so complex,
so intriguing, and so compelling
that nobody who watched him
could help themselves from
rooting for him, no matter what
he did and no matter what he said.

Tony Soprano woke up every morning,
he walked down his driveway
to retrieve his copy of the daily newspaper,
and then after that there was
no telling what he was going to next;
but one thing was always clear:
whatever Tony did he did for his family –
both his blood family
as well as for his crime family,
and everything that he did
was all to keep the Soprano family
and the thing of theirs
that was their life going
by any means necessary.

In my opinion, no one could have
played Tony Soprano
like James Gandolfini did –
because Tony Soprano was
someone who was smart;
Tony Soprano was someone
who internalised and wrestled
with a lot of psychological trauma
because of his mother, Livia,
and because his father Johnny Soprano
had been a gangster before Tony
was even born
there was no question that he would also
become a member of the family business;
but Tony Soprano was not like
everybody else in his family:
he suffered panic attacks –
and because he loved his family
so much he sought out the help
of a therapist, Dr. Jennifer Melfi,
in order to be a more effective
father and boss to those who followed his lead.

You don’t get to meet too many characters like Tony Soprano,
nor from episode to episode
watch someone like him
do what only someone like him
could do…
you don’t get to see acting of the
calibre that James Gandolfini had that often –
and it is clear as day that he put
every ounce of his talent into
making Tony the engaging, the profound,
and the powerhouse of a character that he was;
which is why viewers did not
want to see what they ultimately saw
at the end,
when the screen suddenly went to black –
because nobody knew that only moments before
they had just taken one last look
at one of the greatest characters
in television history:
the one and the only Tony Soprano.

My Poem “The Ten Bells”

There is a repeating
and a constantly resounding phenomenon...
there is a moment of time
that recurs every few years...
there is a place where poet and inspiration
can be found, where things only feel
right and never wrong...
there is a moment like right now
when bells ring out, when angels sing -
when not even the devil
could illicit any kind of fear -
when and where the beauty
of the poetry of life reveals once again
that there is a reason for everything...
there is a season that returns -
like the waves of an ocean
that goes out and then comes back in...
there is a state of mind, body,
and spirit that never dies,
which resides within each of us
like a deep and unending well...
there is something that happens
which never changes,
that always rises back to the surface
to greet me, over and over,
like a poetic rhyme,
that has the power to compel me -
and it is at those moments
when I know without being told
that the bells of time
are ringing ten.