My Poem “The Osmosis Oasis”

Time does not always go in one direction…
memory is always fluid…
every moment of every day –
on the screens, on the pages, on the minds,
that everybody sees, reads, and takes in –
everybody learns something new…
those who can see, see more than they realize…
those who can hear, hear more than they know…
those who willingly immerse and intoxicate themselves
with something are changed in more ways
than can be seen by looking into a person’s eyes…
those who leap and escape into a world of their own making
are really living within a reality of influences,
of nostalgia, of dreams, of memories,
of feelings that they can return to
at any time of the day and wherever they go…
our world is constantly changing;
however, like an ocean, or like an Easter Egg
at the center of a game, there always lies
things that were believed lost and impossible to find –
but over time everything rises
to the surface and is found again…
messengers and messages surround us always…
nothing and no one is ever truly forgotten…
every day the world reconfigure’s itself,
and with every new birth nothing, no one,
no world can ever remain the same…
life can sometimes feel like an ocean…
life can sometimes feel like a maze…
life can sometimes feel like a dream
born of the mind and of the imagination
of someone with an often quirky, varied,
imaginative, artistic, poetic, nostalgic,
mind who has the power to allow their dreams
and their wishes to run away with themselves,
inspiring others to create, to build,
and to keep alive their own private oases of osmosis.

Happy World Poetry Day!

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My poem ‘World War-free’

Why can’t we be a world war-free?
Why can’t we all just all understand one-another,
live in peace, and be a united beacon of hope
and camaraderie for the rest of the galaxy?
Why can’t all the leaders of every country on Earth
see that constant conflict should not be
what puts the “human” in “humanity”?
Why can’t we all, please, for once in our long history,
just collectively put aside our differences
and want the reality of our children’s future
to be a world that is war-free?

The heart and the soul of humanity
is an endless well within which you can find
the truth to every mystery and the answer
to every question that anybody has ever searched for…
we are one race, of two sexes,
made up of a multitude of colours
and shades of personality and culture…
within the very DNA code of our biology
you can find the family-line
and the infinite branches of the family-tree
of which we are connected to
and have been since our Earth’s first dawn…
we can only fulfill our God-given destiny
and our birthright if we all first choose
to not look back on the problems of the past
and learn to stop reinforcing
the grudges of our ancestors,
and focus on building a bright and beautiful future.

I want now to be when I see a new hope for us all rise,
instead of the sight of missiles and rockets
flying through the air
and ultimately causing destruction and carnage in their wake…
I want now to be when somebody up there from heaven,
or outer-space, comes down to Earth and makes us all realize
what the fate of the entire world will be
if we arrive at the time when we need world-wide unity
and collaboration, but we are too late…
I want now to be when we are lead forwards, not backwards –
when we fulfill the hope of the one who had a dream,
and the one who died because he believed in that dream…
I want now to be when all problems
can be solved by words, not weapons…
I want now to be the first day of a new beginning for humanity
when we finally come to the world-wide realisation
that our only hope of survival can only become a reality
if we can learn to work together to make a world
for all to live in and enjoy that is war-free.

My Poem ‘The Morning After’

Two opposing sides…
two opposite ideologies…
two different leaders…
two people skilled
in vastly different ways –
and in the end, in the aftermath
of a confrontation of ideas,
perspectives, of brutal words and actions,
when the dust has settled,
when the crowds have disbursed,
when the truth of a moment finally “hits home”,
when the pain from tears that fell the night before
starts to sting again…
What do you do? Where do you go?
How do you pick up the pieces and put back together
the only picture you have ever known?
No matter what happened, no matter what might happen next,
the only thing you or anyone can possibly do
is carry on and hold on to hope
that one day the nightmare of your current reality
too will come to an end,
and things will get better again.
It’s hard at first to see
how you are going to cope,
especially when you know
that the immediate days and months
are going to be a tough adjustment –
but nothing lasts forever,
and one day even a once abandoned garden
will soon bear new flowers and new fruit,
and the world will grow again
into being something more familiar to you…
there are always casualties in every battle,
there are always winners and there are always losers,
there is always a change of colours and of livery
when there is an invasion of a castle,
and there is always fear –
especially in the face of uncertainty;
but, this time will pass…
in time, another army of soldiers and followers
will follow a new opposing leader
and retake all that was lost;
in the aftermath of anything sudden and shocking,
it can be hard to see a time
through a storm of bad weather –
however, one day this time now too
will just be another page in the book of history,
and there will be a brand new sunrise
that will guide you and everyone
to a new world future
and a hopeful brand new morning after.

(Written the morning after the US election, in 2016, in which Donald Trump was elected as the 45th President of the United States of America 😦 )

My Poem ‘Where do you go?’

Where do you go
in a moment of silence?
Where do you go
to find yourself?
Where do you go
when people see you
looking off into space?
Where do you go
to feel safe and sound?

To some people, music is a place –
a world which they visit every day
that makes them happy
and which inspires them to create
a work of art that becomes so real to them
that can no longer be bound
solely within their mind;
to some people, their imagination
is like an ocean of fantastic
and mysterious discoveries
to be found every time they choose to dive;
to some people, everything that they see
is like a strand of inspiration
which they cannot help themselves
from pulling and seeing what follows;
to some people, it is a castle,
it is a kingdom, it is a reality,
it is a place built by them,
but influenced by many different things
that they retreat to –
and sometimes what is going on
on the outside, in someone’s life,
has a dramatic bearing
on the destination and the colour-palette
of the place within where they go.

Some people revisit the past…
some people imagine the future…
some people slow down their life
as the world around them races by too fast…
some people hold-on to hope with all that they have,
while others worry too much
and are incarcerated and paralyzed by their fears.

To day-dream is an amazing thing;
to be preoccupied by something on your mind is natural;
to realize a dream-come-true
sometimes you have to let your guard down
and lower your defenses so that your voice can sing;
to overcome something, which to you at the time
feels impossible, is incredible –
our limitations are ussually those of our own making,
and to truly turn your life around and be content
you have to sometimes drown-out the voices of doubt
and paint the picture that you want to see.

Walking through nature
is a great way to open doors in your mind
to new and undiscovered frontiers
that are just waiting to be created and unveiled;
when your attention is completely focused on something
it is like being on a one-way highway
with no way to go but straight-ahead;
saving some time for what you love
and for what makes you smile,
no matter what other people may say or think,
is more important than you could know;
everybody must have a sanctuary…
everybody must have a place of peace…
doing something, doing nothing in particular…
everybody must take a moment of time,
make it last, and make the most of it –
because time is as unique
and precious as a snowflake…
so, my question to you is:
where do you go?

My Poem ‘Fallen Angel’

It’s happened again.
Why has it happened again?
Tomorrow it will happen.
Next week it will happen.
A hundred years ago it happened.
When will it stop?
When will our race stop killing itself.
There are cancers and viruses and infections
that kill people everyday –
humanity should not have to worry
about one of its own kind
being bad for their health.
But it happens everyday.
People not only die, they are killed.
People not only do not get to live a full-life,
but in most cases they don’t even get the chance
to say goodbye.
It’s horrifying. It feels like it should be inhuman.
It’s almost soul-destroying.
No one should have to worry
about not returning home again
when they walk out the door in the morning.
And yet, most of the time,
it is what, or someone, who you don’t know
who is thinking about themselves
and what they believe –
which means more to them
than the life of someone else –
who decides which day will be your last day
to be blessed by the light of the sun.

I always only want to see
the positive in something or someone;
I always only want to think
that every-thing happens for a reason;
I always only want to see hope and not fear –
however, there are some days
when the worst things happen,
even to someone you do not know,
when the best and the only response
you can possibly give
is one that is expressed with words and in tears.

Why do good people have to die?
Why can’t it be the worst of humanity
who are exterminated from the face of the Earth –
like the cockroaches and the parasites that they are?
Why must some lives only be a short life?
Deaths happen when people are fighting in a battle –
but the majority of people in the world
are not and do not want
to find themselves in the middle of a war.

It is sad to see and to hear
that there are still people in the world
who do not understand how precious life is;
it is heart-breaking that in this day and age
that people still do not realize
that differences are a good thing,
and that with understanding can follow
the most incredible wave of love;
it is such a shame that people
are still being exposed to such horror
the like of which completely eclipses
the scary-stories that we remember
being told when we were kids;
I hope that one day humanity will evolve
beyond how we are now
and that there will be a day
when we will no longer have to mourn
the untimely passing and the slaying
of a fallen angel.

My Poem ‘The Blender Analogy’

Reality is fiction…
fiction is reality,
after it has been ingested,
digested, and blended-together
with the thoughts, the feelings,
and the memories that a writer
has been storing away for a rainy day…
when the clouds come together,
and when thunder starts to rumble,
and when lightning starts flashing and striking,
and when there is the most
almighty down-pour of creativity
that rains down upon a once blank page…
that feeling, that moment,
that perforation that happens
when you rip out a page from the book of reality
and you change a word here and a name there,
and you make it your own
and something completely brand new…
it’s intoxicating, in all honesty…
it’s poetry… it’s a thing of beauty…
it’s life in a nutshell… it’s wonderful…
and as the artist, it is an amazing thing to look at
and to marvel at when all is said an done,
and when it is now yours
as well as someone else’s…
I would think that it must be a similar feeling
to that one might have after they have
sampled a part of a song that already exists
and they have repackaged it as a purported “new song” –
people have been doing it for years, right?
It can’t possibly be wrong?
Call it a stew… call it a pie…
call it a soup… and see all the similarities
to all the things that contributed into making
or influencing something –
but also remember that every-thing in life
that happens, and everything that everybody does,
is inspiring – even the seemingly accidental mistakes
that happen can, and mostly are,
just the fertile ground from which
new things may grow out of…
just recently, I heard an author
recount something that his rock-star wife
had said about the creative-process of making art,
and what they essentially said was:
that creating something, artistically or otherwise,
is like throwing seemingly different
and unconnected things into a sort-of “imagination-blender”
and turning it up to full-speed –
and I love this explanation and description so much,
because – speaking as someone who has written
one or two short-stories in my time,
and more than one verses of poetry –
I can honestly tell you
that there is no better way
to describe the creative-process
that I have ever heard
than that of “the blender analogy”.

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.