My Poem “A December to Remember”

It isn’t December
until there is a flurry of snow…
It isn’t December
unless the temperature outside
is below zero…
It isn’t December
until Christmas songs
are playing on the radio…
It isn’t December
until you look around
and you see sparkling lights
and colourful decorations wherever you go.

December is a month filled
with both joy and sadness…
December is a month when we think
of those who we have lost
and who we still miss…
December is like living within a bauble
hanging upon the limb of a giant Christmas tree…
December has always been a time
that has meant something profound to me.

I love the traditions of buying a real Christmas tree,
bringing it home, and then as a family decorating it…
I love December because it is when people
have a excuse to think about others and give…
I love what the true meaning of Christmas represents
and why it is important to keep close to your heart
the things and the people who are like no other…
Every year it is my mission for everyone I know
to make the month of December
a December to remember.

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My Poem “Bonfire Nights”

I remember the nights
of the fifth of November…
I remember the times
standing around, feeling the heat,
and basking in the glow of a bonfire…
I remember being a child
and being completely hypnotised
by the flickering of the flames
and by the sound of the cracking
of the furnace that burned before my eyes…
I remember watching the giant behemoth
that brought light to the darkness
and warmed the heart of my family and I…
I remember being a child and reciting to myself
the rhyme “remember, remember, the fifth of November”,
and having my imagination filled with images
of “gunpowder, treason, and plot”,
and watching Guy Fawkes being burned in effigy…
it has been too long since I stood
and looked into the flames of a fire,
but I still remember and I will never forget
all those bonfire nights that were filled
with sights, sounds, smells,
memories and dreams that will forever
fuel the inspiration and the fire
of my occasional child-like wants and desires.

My Poem ‘Manchester’

A minute of silence…
a handful of moments…
a precious gift to those
who tragically lost their lives…
sixty seconds of stillness
to remember the children of Manchester.

Only days ago
young and old gathered-together
to enjoy the music of their idol…
not even a week ago
men and women, girls and boys,
showed their love
and shared the love
that they felt for life
with one-another…
it was only the other day
that new angels were born in heaven.

Time does not stop,
but we cannot move on –
we are all still mourning the loss
of the beautiful and innocent souls
who left their homes
but who will sadly never return.

How can a father, a mother,
a sister, a brother,
a cousin, a niece, a nephew,
a relative, possibly understand
and recover from what has happened?
What can a city, a people, a country,
a way of life, a world do to make sure
that the selfish and murderous deeds
of a demonic coward that walks among us
does not win a battle in the epic struggle
that is constantly being fought
between good and evil?

The only way to keep somebody
and something alive
is to never forget them…
the only way that I know how to live
is to hope for the best
and to pray that the entire world
will one day all share
the same hopes for one-another.

After something indescribable
and shocking happens
being there for those in need
is what is the most important…
today and everyday,
everybody and everywhere,
all over the world,
will never forget
and they will always remember
the lights that went out
and were reborn in heaven,
who were born in a city
and in a country
who they will always be a part of,
and they will always remain
in the hearts and in the minds of
the people of Great Britain
and the great city of Manchester.

Dedicated to all the children and all the men and women who lost their lives on the 25th of May, 2017, and for all of the people who have been affected by the horror that took place in Manchester… you will never be forgotten.

My Poem ‘Forget Me Not’

One season is winding-down,
another season is rising…
one season is out-staying its welcome,
another is fast-approaching…
as always, there is a transition taking place…
there is a change of colour in nature’s palette,
and a different air of feeling on nature’s face…
the planet is turning, the world is changing…
everybody is slowly preparing for what is to come,
and there will soon be an end to all the waiting
when nature starts calling for us all
to live for the moment that we find ourselves in…
soon the flowers of Summer will rise, bloom, and shine –
and like each and every one of us
lift up their heads towards the bright energy
of the sun’s intense light.

There are a great many things that are seasonal
and are only seen when the time is right…
during the winter, people wear blacks, whites,
dark-browns, and shades of grey…
when it is spring, greens, blues, yellows,
and reds start to recur and be seen
in many choices of fashion –
perhaps they can be noticed more
because the nights start to become short
and there are now more hours of daylight?
During the summer, it is like
there is a festival of colour going on
all over the world –
from San Francisco to London,
and from France to Australia:
vibrant, energizing, mesmerizing,
and breathtaking colours that keep people
feeling good and smiling…
and when autumn reveals itself,
there are wonderful tones, echoes,
and signatures of warm browns, orange,
and copper everywhere you look –
on the leaves of the trees,
in the colour of the coats that people wear,
and even the air has an ambiance,
an accent, a smell, a fall-fullness,
and a feeling that you can only find and feel
in the autumn months in which
the celebrations of Halloween,
Guy Fawkes Night in the UK,
Thanksgiving in the US takes place…
and when forget-me-not flowers grow
and show their memorable colour-combination
of yellow and blue.

Everybody has their favourite season
and their favourite time of the year…
everybody longs to revisit memorable experiences
that they have lived…
everybody knows that when the time is right
certain things that we want to do
we will just do, because they feel right…
everybody is familiar with the many faces
of our beautiful and constantly changing planet,
and when the touch of the season that we love so much
touches our skin, and overwhelms our senses –
that is when we all enjoy
and we make the most of
every moment that we would
find so hard to ever forget.

My Poem ‘School Friends’

Throughout the years
that we spend in attendance at school,
we have certain friends
with whom we hang-out
and sit down to have our lunch with –
however, when we fast-forward
to the present day and to the life
that we are now live,
how many of those same people,
those same friends,
do we all still know,
still talk to, or ever sit down
to have a meal with?
If I were to make a wild-guess,
based on my own experience,
then I would say not one,
or very few at-all-
which, to me, is a sad thing to think about
when you think back and your remember
some of the enjoyable and the fun times
that you might have shared
with your best school-friends.

It is natural for people
who once spent a great deal
of their time together
to slowly drift-apart
and become distant with one-another,
sometimes in every sense of the word…
life, like time, like a river,
runs in one direction –
the choices that we make
can see us doing things
that when we were children
we would have only thought of as
things that were beyond our wildest-dreams:
diving with sharks deep below the waves of the sea…
having adventures in rain-forests…
seeing the spectacular Northern-Lights…
or, perhaps, packing-up all your belongings
and making a new home on the other-side of the world?

We all grow up with people…
we all meet people over the course of our lives…
we all think that when we are a child
that the fun times will never come to an end…
we all had good days and bad days
when we were at school…
we all have memories from when we were kids
of memorable mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights –
but, unfortunately, sometimes we all have to grow up,
grow from within, and we all have to make a leap
into an unknown world –
however, even though we all must move on in life,
find new things, and meet new people,
that does not mean that we should ever
have to forget who we went to school with…
who, no matter where they are now,
we will always remember them
as being our one of a kind
school friends.

My Poem ‘Our Time’

I remember every moment…
I remember every instant…
I remember every thing we did…
I remember every time you looked back at me,
I remember every time you held my hand
and gave me a reason to live…
I remember the where,
I remember and I will never forget the when…
I remember lying on our bed and stroking your hair…
I remember every memory so vividly
every time the heavenly light that you emanate
shines through my minds lens…
I remember the first, I remember the last…
I remember, and I will always remember.

I remember when we went to the movies…
I remember when we went to our first music festival…
I remember when we walked over the Walking bridge
and half-way across I asked you to marry me…
I remember when we at outside on 4th of July night
and we watched the fireworks explode in the sky,
and at the same time getting my first up-close
and personal encounter with a Lightning Bug –
those moments that were like something out of a dream.
they were to me so magical.

I remember us driving every-where…
I remember us walking hand-in-hand in the sunlight…
I remember us sitting next to each other,
and me just looking at you and listening to you
and being utterly hypnotized by you,
as you made me fall in love with you
again and again with every passing second that I stared…
I remember dreaming about you every night,
and then waking up the next morning
with you lying right besides me –
I will never forget a single day
that has made up the tapestry of our shared life.

I remember going going to your family’s church
and thanking God for gifting you to me…
I remember taking pictures of us together –
of me holding you, and you holding me
in miraculous moment of utter joy, love, and serenity…
I remember you telling me that I was yours,
and I remember me telling you that you were mine…
I remember, in every detail and depth,
every year, every month, every day, every hour,
every minute, every second,
and all the sparks of life in-between
that make the world turn for us
and combine-together to make our time.

MyPoem-OurTime

My poem ‘The Drummer’

It was all he heard…
it was all he felt…
it was all he wanted to do…
every morning, every night,
the drummer felt a longing,
and the beat was the only cure…
over and over again,
the drummer played the rhythm
of his favourite beat in his mind,
with the fingers of his hands,
and every time that he tapped his feet…
it was as if it was his own heart beating…
it was as if it was his own pulse racing…
it was the most epic sound
he had ever heard in his life,
since he was a baby
and he used to look out his bedroom window
and listen to the thundering sound
of the pita-patter on the window-pane
when it was raining…
it was more powerful
than any kind of hunger or craving…
to Mark, the music was like the heart-beat of God…
to Mark, the music that came from his soul
was something that was transcendental…
to Mark, the music was what kept him
from becoming among humanities lost…
to Mark, the music he heard was what he loved…
and to him it was beautiful.

Becoming a member of a marching-band
had been a dream of Mark’s since he was a child –
Mark had everything that any band
would ever want, or ever need: Mark loved music,
and he loved his favourite instrument…
even as a child Mark would turn his parents’
pots and pans into home-made drums,
and he used to play them,
and his parents let him be free
and express himself, and go wild –
and if anybody came around to visit
Mark and his parents
they would see and hear
Mark playing the most phenomenal of beats,
and every day of his life
music, especially his music,
has become more and more important.

Mark tried-out to be in his high-school band…
Mark had dreams of one day playing
in the marching-band of his favourite
college football team…
Mark played and practiced every minute
he was awake or asleep,
and he knew that it he just played
with all his heart
that everything in his life
would happen as he always dreamed it would,
as if it were all a part of a plan –
however, all Mark could play,
all Mark wanted to play,
all Mark loved to play
was the beat that he heard within…
and when his moment came
to show just how incredible a player
and a drummer he was Mark froze…
and then he did what he always did –
he played the music that he knew and loved.

Mark never made it into the marching-band…
Mark was disappointed to not be able to play
and march in front of his favourite football team –
but he wasn’t sad…
to lift his spirits, Mark’s parents ordered him
a band-uniform all of his own and they told him to
“never stop playing” the music that made him
the most happy and the music he had always known…
Mark’s parents told him to go out in his uniform,
with his drum, and “fill the world” with his music
that to them was like no other –
and that is exactly what Mark did:
he went out…
he walked down the main street
of his home town’s most busiest road…
he stopped people and traffic
to a stand-still everywhere he went…
and as he played he knew
that because of his music
he would always be remembered
as the boy, and later the man,
who would always be known as
“The Drummer”.

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