Everyone has instincts…
everybody has to learn
how to react, and when…
everyone makes links…
everybody has to learn
how to use their god-given gifts –
whether it be a gift with their mind,
with their feet, with their hands on a steering-wheel,
with their fingers on keys
or on the strings of a musical-instrument,
or by connecting their heart, soul,
and their dexterity to create a piece of art
with a brush or a pen…
inspiration sometimes comes
from the most remote and random of places –
however, true beauty, to me,
true love can only come from one face…
what draws one person to another
is sometimes hard to fathom –
most of the time it is what and who we see
upon first-sight and it is a physical-attraction;
however, there is more to life than the physical…
there is more to life than what you can see…
there is more to someone that makes them beautiful…
there is more that makes the world what it is
than could ever be believed…
some things are tangible, but most things
are felt with another kind of ‘touch’…
some things can be simplified and described,
but some of the most important things in life
no words – at least to me – could ever be enough…
one example of a boundless, spiritual,
powerful, life-changing, magic that can fill
a person’s heart, soul, mind, and body
to overflow is the most phenomenal
of all energy in the universe: love –
and once you have found ‘The One’
who gives your life meaning every day
feels as energizing as feeling a burst
of brilliant starlight from the sun above…
nobody knows what their calling will be,
nor when it will come –
but when you know it for what it is
you will feel like you are momentarily
floating free off of the ground,
it will be like gravity is no more –
and once you feel what comes next,
nothing and nobody will be able
to stop what rises from the moment
that you feel that indescribable draw.
powerful
My Poem ‘In memory of’
One of the greatest things
you can do is remember;
one of the most touching things
you can do is to not forget;
one of the things that grounds us the most
is a memory that holds us in place
so that we don’t drift away –
some memories are like anchors;
one of the things that has stood the test of time
still remains the greatest archive
that could ever be envisioned…
and that place is a world,
and that world is our beautiful planet.
The lands of every country on Earth
are speckled with the graves
and the monuments of the lost and the fallen;
every society and every religion
remembers their people in different ways;
perhaps one day the only thing
that will remain of humanity on Earth
will be which still remains
engraved on worn-out vertical tablets –
electronically? solar-powered?
Or, perhaps, on good old-fashioned
marble and stone?
Humanity has changed and continues to change;
mankind is moving forwards,
but still continues to remember
and embalm that which to them is sacred;
humanity has the means to be
at-peace the world-over,
however some cannot live
unless there is a fight to be fought
and a war to be waged;
mankind can only be blamed
for what it has done and for what it still does –
every-body has to sleep
in the bed that we all make.
In my time here on Earth,
I have learned that some things
can be put off until tomorrow –
however, the most important things,
the people who we love and who love us,
should never be side-lined,
nor ever ignored;
I have learned more than once
throughout my life that, no matter what,
each and every one of us in our lives will be hurt –
however, that which becomes a part of us
we were gifted with so that when we need it
we can draw on something as powerful as a memory
to pick us up off the floor;
as I have lived, learned,
and occasionally lost,
I have slowly understood life more –
and I understand why there needs to be a hell below
just as there needs to be a heaven above;
I, personally, hold on with all that I am
every day to my memories
that I still return to when necessary…
when I need to leave my own monument
which is always anchored to the place,
or to the person, where, or to whom,
it was created in memory of.
My Poem ‘Paracosmic’
Within all of our minds
we all live in a paracosm of reality;
by mixing the real with the imaginary
we can all see sights beyond imagining;
with our eyes we see,
with our ears we hear,
with our insights and our intuition
we create a map of our universe
that is coloured by the memories
we have made that are all
the more beautiful and amazing
because they are too deep
and too perfect to be in any way
artificially designed.
We all hold the key
to the lock of a doorway
that leads far beyond the stars;
we all fly with a burning tail
that contains the fire of rebirth
like the feathers of a phoenix;
we all can watch people take giant leaps,
and then take epic leaps of our own
and imagine we are the first human on Mars;
we all like that moment in a story
when we reach the point
when the story becomes
about something unexpected entirely
with a wonderful dramatic twist.
Stories have a structure,
life is naturally more organic;
stories have characters
that have defining characteristics,
intentions and motivations,
that tie the beginning and the end together;
life is like an untamed animal,
and like any wild creature –
when you come face to face with it
it never pays to run, blink, or panic.
I can return to my dream-scape, my paracosm,
my imagination mansion of infinite rooms
whenever I close my eyes
or whenever I look at the world
and I see rhyme and reason happening
and dancing with one-another in-tandem;
everybody has a world within themselves
where they can be the monarch of their own kingdom;
to me, fantasy is just reality re-imagined
and transformed as if with the dust of Morpheus
into a dream, a wish, or a prayer;
with our mind we can all envision
a way to solve every and any problem of the world –
and sometimes what starts within us
can manifest and be seen and heard
like a dragon awakening from their lair.
People dive deep below
the surface of reality
into the sea of a story
when something tells them
that there is something about it
that they need to know;
books are self-contained galaxies
that have hidden bridges within them
that link them to each other,
as well as to the future and the past;
the times when the more that we blink,
the more that we think,
and the more that we want to make a moment last –
that is when we run, we fly, we dive, we fall,
and take with us our memories of a time
so that they can live forever within our paracosm,
and always have the power of them
to make us feel paracosmic.
My Poem ‘Missing Words’
We read in sentences, not words;
we sometimes see words that are not there,
but are meant to be there;
we sometimes hear in our mind the unheard;
we all make connections
and take leaps of logic and imagination
when trying to make sense of something
that makes us feel, think, jump with joy, and care.
We all give a part of ourselves
to what we create, read, love, and see;
we all see and sculpt shapes of the clouds in the sky
in our mind and vision that resemble things
from our hopes and dreams;
we all take trips of instinct and intuition
when thinking about what is and what could be;
we can all draw the shape of a heart and share it,
and receive it, and instantly know what it means.
Our brains and our minds are more powerful
and more capable of navigating a path than we believe,
even one that might appear treacherous and impassable;
our accumulated knowledge
is deeper and richer than buried treasure,
and we sometimes know more than we think;
our individual way of seeing hope in chaos
is something that is truly magical;
our gift of seeing things before we see them in front of us
is an unbelievably incredible source of fantastic vision
and inspiration that take us anywhere and show us anything
with a blink.
Missing words are like puzzle pieces that we fill-in silently;
missing words are like invisible bridges
that come to life naturally and give meaning and feeling,
and they capture something’s spirit, like poetry;
missing words are always found,
and they always make themselves heard –
like nature does at sunset, with the evening song of all birds;
and if and when the moment calls for it,
you and your amazing mind will instantly seek out
and reach for the right words and they will be what were once
the missing words.
Mark The Poet 