Since the beginning of everything,
the universe has been remaking itself…
since the first flash of existence,
reality has been changing the definition
of what it is supposed to be…
since our version of the laws of nature
settled upon a seemingly stable form
and continued to do things in the same way,
a cycle of repetition has been what has become
the most important aspect in the process
making sure that nothing stops
and then starts running in reverse…
since the ignition of the engine of
the world in which we live within
began the series of mechanisms
that keep every single one of the worlds orbiting their stars,
as well as keep the stars of their individual galaxy
encircling the dark maelstrom of
the supermassive black hole at their centre,
nothing has been able to break free
of what was set in motion when
space, time, and all the elements of life
in all its varied forms was created by something powerful -
unlike us, but connected to us -
whose purpose was to make the most
of the moment that was needed
to bring order to chaos…
since the first eyes looked up
and gazed at the heavens above,
people have been asking: why?
Why are we here?
Why does what always happens have to happen?
Why allow us to question our existence
and to ask the ultimate question: why?
since everybody has their own
individual answer to the question
of how we got to where we find ourselves,
all each of us can do is remember
that things happen for a reason,
life is sometimes what it is
and what it was always supposed to be,
questions and the search for the truth
are what will keep people exploring
as they always have, forever;
but one thing is for certain -
and something that stories, myths, scripture,
and the picture of the cosmos that anyone
can see with their own eyes every night after dark:
all that has happened before
will happen again, and again -
because it is supposed to.
repetition
My Poem ‘Relearn’
People do not meet by chance...
people do not find themselves
somewhere without a reason...
people do not attend a party
unless they want to dance...
people do not always know
why something is important
until they are ready to see
what it is and what it means
in the light of the right season.
We all know what it feels like
when we find ourselves
at the right place and at the right time...
we all know how it feels
to be surrounded by people
who seem to know us
just as much as we seem to know them...
we all know what it means
to be gifted something by someone
who just wanted to be kind...
we all know how things were
when life seemed so much more
simpler -
but as we all get older,
we all discover that it is impossible
to hold on to everything, to everyone,
to every moment and memory,
without sometimes
losing our grasp on what anchors
and defines the reality of our present.
Things repeat because they are supposed to...
people return because they are meant to...
some ideas can be revived
easier than others
because they are secretly a part
of the underlying thinking
and intentions of the conscious universe...
some things, some people,
some actions, some experiences
are remembered better than others,
because over time they have
become vital lessons
that every generation needs
to relearn.
My Poem “Square One”
Just like in the game of Monopoly
when everybody first arrives in this world
they start with the word “Go”,
and then they roll the dice
that will decide for them
where the game they are
involved in will take them –
and the rules of life
are similar to the rules of a game:
each of us start somewhere,
each of us are given a name,
each of us are given choices,
and as we learn more about
who we are and what motivates us
we find ourselves being pulled
down particular paths,
by particular things,
by particular people,
into making decisions
that will effect the rest of our lives.
No one in this life
is immune to influence –
because our brains are driven
by stimulation and information,
even from a young age…
no one can stop themselves
from making the “wrong choice” –
because up until a choice or a move
has been played to its conclusion
there is no way of knowing
the outcome of anything…
everybody dreams of becoming
something or someone when they are a child –
something or someone
who they see and want to emulate;
but I wonder how many people
actually became who they wanted to be
when they grew up,
if they did what they wanted to do,
and if they became who they wanted to be
when they were a kid?
Life has a way of making certain things happen,
while other things never get off the drawing-board…
people have a way of changing
their minds more frequently than they would think under certain circumstances…
the terrain that people think
will always stay the same
has a way of being remade
that cannot simply be returned
to how it used to be –
because nothing, no one,
and nowhere stays untouched
by outside influences.
From the moment that
the necessary components of our planet
coalesced and began to slowly
but surely evolve into
the wild testbed of experimentation
that it will always be,
even before humanity entered
the mix and started effecting
the world by any and all means,
Earth has been visited from space
many times by its fellow
celestial cousins
and it has continued to
thrive and go with the flow
of whatever course
plays out upon its surface.
Everything and everybody
begins their journey with
whatever and whomever
they have at their disposal,
and then, before long,
everything and everyone
finds themselves being
taken to places that they
do not choose to be –
but places where others want them to be;
and that is when the seeds
of rebellion are first sowen,
that is when the first ideas
of defiance start to get louder and louder –
until every individual decides to do something for them
and for no one else,
and that is when it starts:
that is when the power of chance
can start to change the map
of the world within our mind
and start to alter our opinion
of what we are here to do
and who we are supposed to be.
We all think that we will not
make the mistakes that similar people in our shoes have made in the past…
we all think that we can somehow
be different from other people
if we have “more” of something
than someone else…
we all think that we might get to see
something that no one else has ever seen,
or experience something
that no one has ever done before;
but each of us discover
that we are all constantly stuck
in a loop of repetition
that is hard to break free of –
especially when we find out that
there are powers in the world
that wish to control others
into thinking and believing
that one way is the only way
and supercedes all others…
we all think that there is a way
to see something before it happens,
and perhaps prevent the inevitable –
but time and time again
each of us are given a wake up call
that reminds us that some things
will always happen
because they were always meant to happen:
including proceeding down a path
for as long and for as far as we can
before realizing that we have
actually returned to where we were
and have to start over again
from Square One.
The Pathfinder: Repetition
My Poem “Repetition”
Everybody occasionally repeats themselves...
everybody eventually discovers
that they are a part of a cycle...
everybody returns to the same place
over and over again,
but every time everybody
finds themselves back
where they are used to being
they are always different -
even though where they are
may look exactly the same
and as if nothing has changed...
everybody sometimes catches
a glimpse of their own reflection
and they are taken aback
by the almost invisible
scars that they see -
and not just the ones
that might be present upon their face...
everybody remembers everything -
even though they may have
led themselves, and others,
to believe that some things
that may have happened
had been forgotten...
everybody always reveals more
about who they are -
especially the more
that they are observed trying,
and sometimes failing,
to break the bad habits
that they are known for;
however, with time, with experience,
with hindsight, everybody always gains
the wisdom that they need
to sever the chain of past behaviours
and forge new links
that will enable the revelation
of new possibilities and realities
that might not have been
thought possible before...
everybody sometimes feels
as if they are within
the event horizon of a black hole,
and stuck in an infinite revolution -
like an album being played,
and then replayed, on a loop;
but the truth is, no matter what
seemingly never-ending groove
you think you are stuck in,
everybody can always escape any trap
by simply realising where they are
and what they have been doing,
and then choosing to change
and to perhaps leap into the vortex
of what they cannot know -
and only then can everybody feel
the true sensation of release
that comes with the end
of something that someone may
have hoped and prayed for a long time
they could stop repeating.
My Poem “The Lesson”
It was always going to be this way...
it was always going to be me
finding myself back where it all began...
it was always going to be me
returning to the same place I started -
like restarting the performance of a play...
it was always going to be
a long and eventful road that I took
before I found myself, once again,
doing what I do, what I always do,
filled with memories and inspiration,
and, as always, without anything
that might resemble a plan.
It was always going to be me,
with an open notebook in front of me,
with my silver pen in my hand,
still with a hopeful smile on my face,
writing, thinking,
remembering, recalling,
watching, observing, looking
and finding more than might meet
the eye of everyone else but me...
it was always going to be me
back writing my poetry,
within my own bubble of imagination,
as the world, the universe,
the reality of life on this planet
carries on regardless around me.
It was always going to be me;
it was always going to be
who it was when things were
how they used to be;
it was always going to be
unlike what I, or anyone,
would ever have expected -
because everything that turned out
the way that it did
seems to have conformed
to a pattern that was always meant to happen.
It was always going to be me
who would teach myself
that no matter how things
sometimes do change,
and how people sometimes
do take much-needed detours,
there is always a lesson to be learned
taught by time and by our own
inner shadow, like only they can.
Mark The Poet – The Podcast: “Repetition is the key”
My Poem ‘O.C.D. Me’
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
in my entire life
who does not have an
obsessive compulsion to something;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have a daily-routine;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have something
to which they are drawn;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who, at one time or another,
who does not over-think…
to me, everybody has O.C.D. –
everybody has a desire to find
happiness through order;
everybody knows when they look around themselves
what the picture should be;
everybody knows that for every call
there must be a caller.
We all sometimes need reassurance about some things
in order to live a life without constant worry –
sometimes, however, our worries follow us
wherever we go…
some people cannot sleep properly
unless they find out things
that they don’t know;
we are all sometimes our own worst-enemy;
however, it is not always out fault –
because there are times when things
play on our mind, subconsciously,
and thoughts become like a bird
trapped in a house
just looking for a way out
so that they can fly-free.
Those with an O.C.D.
read every-thing into everything;
those with an O.C.D.
listen to the same songs over and over;
those with an O.C.D.
repeat the same things;
those with an O.C.D.
always remember.
As a writer, I am not afraid to admit
that when it comes to my writing
I have an obsessive-compulsion
to try and not make mistakes
in whatever I write –
I, however, am a human writer,
and not a machine who functions
and who is run by programs and mathematics;
whenever I see a mistake that I have made
it does play upon my mind –
however, after a while,
I eventually resign myself
to accepting that which I cannot control –
and I take a breath and do not panic… too much.
For some people, their O.C.D.
controls their entire life;
for some people, their O.C.D.
is what keeps them awake
when it is the dead of the night;
for some people, if they do not do something
then it could never be seen by them as done right;
for some people, their O.C.D. just takes over,
and something in their brain just takes control,
of their actions and they simply can’t help it.
Mark The Poet 