Poetry
My Poem “Strum”
I am not exactly sure what
it was that overcame me,
but from the moment that
I first saw and I first heard
someone playing a ukulele
I was immediately entranced
and fascinated by this
stringed instrument,
that looks like a miniature guitar,
that naturally seems to have this
calming tone to it when a player
strums its cords that range G C E A…
I am not exact sure why
I was compelled to buy my D.I.Y.
ukulele from the bookstore I found it in –
so that I could leisurely learn
how to play an instrument of my own choosing?
To feel a wave of emotional connection
and a sense of fun when driving
my fingers over the four strings
that I physically tied
from the bridge to the pegs of the headstock?
I’m not sure, but that is exactly what happened:
because as soon as I began to innocently
move my fingers over the four strings
of the ukulele that I had to glue, screw, and attach all the separate
components of, I felt this instant
and emotionally charged feedback
from the sounds that I created,
and I felt a rush of instant creative inspiration.
There is something special about
making things with your own two hands…
there is something about having
a project in front of you
to put your heart and your mind to…
there is something about the visceral
connection that a lot of people feel
when they handle a piece of wood
that has been crafted into the vital
parts of an instrument…
there is something almost spiritual
about holding something
and feeling as if what you have
in your hands has its own identity,
its own story, its own voice, its own soul…
there is something wonderful about
finding something brand new
that you never could have imagined
that you would ever discover
that would give you the gift
of grasping something profound.
I have always been in awe
of those naturally gifted artists
who can pick up an instrument
and instinctually know how to play
something in such a way that they
can illicit an emotional response
from their audience and immediately
generate a continuum of connection
without even knowing that they are doing so…
I have always wanted to learn how
to play a musical instrument
and to be good enough to be able
to capture and to sustain someone’s,
anyone’s, attention, in a good way –
and hopefully not bore them to tears…
I have known some singers, some song-writers,
and some instrumentalists over my life,
and I have had many moments of feeling
this heartfelt bond with several voices,
sounds, songs – and when I write my own poetry
I attempt to write in such a way
that my words can be interpreted lyrically,
as if they were songs in and of themselves;
however, now I believe that I have found
something that I will use in the future
as an accompaniment to what I write,
and perhaps I will get inspiration for
the poetry that I will write to come
just by strumming upon the strings
of my new ukulele.

My Poem “Bask”
Basking in the sun is what
some people do for fun…
basking in the shine of divine light
is what some people do to
spend their time while they are
on their way to finding
the seed of an idea that may inspire
the path to come to all that they need…
basking in the heat of the star
at the centre of galactic backyard
is something that many forms of life
choose to do for pleasure
and to recharge their spirit…
basking in the glow of the fire ball
that everything and everyone knows
is something that can be
both a gift and a curse
for those who live upon
our beautiful green and blue planet…
basking, sunbathing, embracing,
bathing within the energy and the flow
of an ever-present force of nature
can be like walking upon a double-edge sword…
basking, as the world seemingly burns –
protected only by a thin layer of protection –
should remind us all just how vulnerable
we are to things that we cannot see
but over time seem to last a long time
after we chose to bask.
My Poem “Painting by Numbers”
The sun shines during the day…
the sky flashes during the night…
the heat is too much for some
people to take that they have to
spend most of their time
sitting in the shade…
within the dark clouds above
storms rage and echo the unparalleled
power of nature’s electricity
that manifests itself in the form
of both light and sound,
occasionally frenetically.
The summer months are usually
defined by the colours that are
seen emanating all around…
during the summer months
people usually take their time
to seek out a particular place
that they hope, or may already know,
will be somewhere special,
memorable, hopeful, and profound.
When painting a picture of the world
that they see, some people like to use
examples of other things
to compare their vision to,
for example: when someone sees
a beautiful person who is perfect
to them in every way, they may
compare them to a flower,
such as a daisy or a rose –
and in doing so they are
knowingly, or accidentally,
speaking in the language of poetry…
art, in its infinite forms, is an expression
of an artist who wishes to give
an example of who they are,
what they are, and what drives their heart
to share the story of something,
somewhere, or someone,
so powerfully, and yet so effortlessly
as if they were painting by numbers.
