My Poem “Multicolored”

Everybody is an individual,
a person, a spectrum of many colours
throughout their life…
no one can help what body they are born into…
everybody constantly hopes to be able
to one day express themselves
in the way that they want to
without feeling abnormal and as if
who they are on the outside
is not meant to fit in with
how the world is, how it is meant to be,
and how it is meant to look…
no one has the right to be able
to tell anyone that they cannot
be who and what they want to be.

Music is life, life is music –
and people in all their many colours
and with all their individualistic
facets are who make the music of life
as rich as it is, and without all
the many pioneers of individualism
and the proponents of staying true
to what you believe
then the world as we know it would not exist.

The best of humanity, the icons of history
who will be revered forever,
the ground-breakers who knew
even before they learned how to talk
that they were special, different,
anomalous, and exceptional
because they saw the world
and the question posed to them
without the jadedness of a dark cloud
of preconceptions hanging over them –
they are the ones who have always been
responsible for giving our world
the gift of pure inspiration,
ingenuity, and innovation
in the many levels of every day life
that different people live upon.

The best stories ever written
are of extraordinary people
overcoming a stereotypical boundary
that ultimately leads everybody
who learns of their story
to be inspired and choose to emulate them
and follow in their footsteps…
I believe that if you are someone
who is “different” from everybody else
then you should feel proud…
monsters, trolls, and bullies are different
and they are treated differently –
which is why people who suffer
from being singled out
often plague others with the same toxicity
as they are daily exposed to.

In my opinion, if you are different
from everybody else then
you truly are “special”
in every sense of the word –
and I have always believed that
when you embrace you own
individual eccentricities
then you may find that you share
more with other people around the world
who already know who and what they are
and who choose to let the light of their
multicolored soul shine like
the constituents of depth
that give light to a star.

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My Poem “Broad Daylight”

From the moment that sunlight touches something,
from the instant of sunrise
when the first waves of energy
crest above the horizon,
from the first golden halo
that shines like that of an angel’s light –
every day, everybody witnesses a miracle,
a new beginning, an encore, a beacon of truth,
a light as old as the universe,
a super-star in every sense of the word,
that gives everything and everybody on this planet
a means and a reason to be
who and what they want to be…
the sun that shines above us
is more powerful and more influential
than we sometimes realize…
the sun is so potent,
and yet so destructive in so many ways,
that when we are outside and we are incorporating
its energy into our biology –
similarly to how a plant uses the sun
to convert its light into chemical energy
by way of photosynthesis –
we sometimes have to protect our skin
and shield our eyes to protect our vision.

During the hours of moonlight
colour is at a premium
and the limited sources of light
that can be found
often make everything appear
as if they were straight out of a
black and white film or a photograph…
from morning to evening,
even on a cloudy afternoon,
the light of day is bright
and perfectly exemplifies
the beauty of nature in all its glory,
and the colour spectrum of the universe
truly comes into its own
and is able to display
so many things in so many ways.

Light is a means of survival…
light gives birth to life,
and life gives birth to light…
some people can live in some places
where it is dark and find contentment
surrounded by distant stars –
but the best time and the only time
to truly experience the kaleidoscope of life
is when you open your eyes
and the world opens up to you,
when there is blue sky above you,
when there are dreams coming true,
and when there is an unending
overabundance of broad daylight.

My book โ€˜Playing Godโ€™…

My Poem ‘No Filter’

A beautiful, gorgeous, sunny, warm morning –
with blue sky above, multiple reflections all around,
people coming and going, living, breathing,
seeing, experiencing, and music playing everywhere you are,
and a different voice for every hour that you hear.

I am sitting with a wonderful cup of coffee,
at a table next to a wall of windows
that stretch as far as the eye can see;
I am looking out at the city,
basking in the daylight of sunlight,
feeling energized and inspired
by the atmosphere of outside and inside;
I am seeing, listening, drinking,
thinking, dreaming, feeling,
and doing my favourite thing: writing poetry.

I am in plain sight, and it is as if no one can see me,
or is interested in me, or what I am doing –
nobody would ever think to approach me,
and ask me what I am writing;
however, if someone were to ask me what I am doing,
or how I was feeling, I would tell them that
the only way that I can describe how I am feeling
at this exact moment, is to say that:
I feel as if I am a bird in the sky,
hovering above the rest of the world,
not even needing to flap my wings too much
in any way at any time –
because I know that there are times
when instead of exerting yourself
with a lot of flapping about,
sometimes you can get to where you need to be
by simply using the external forces that surround you,
and using them, if you have the means,
to simply and silently glide.

As I look at the world,
the natural daylight instantly highlights the colours,
the details, the resonant aura of everything,
and the reason for things to be the way
that they click into place;
as I see the spectrum of existence and life jump out at me,
I have the biggest smile on my face;
as I look to the horizon,
and then to what I see right in front of me,
the scale and the impact that hits me
of certain things, that for some reason interest me,
instantly inspire me, and I see patterns repeating,
and shapes that have meaning;
I see and read emotions, attitudes, interests, tastes,
on the faces and in the actions of everybody,
and I am intrigued and fascinated;
and I also see things that I would change, if I could –
if I could just blink, or snap my fingers,
and change someone’s direction,
or show them another choice to make,
or an alternative to something I can see they are about to do –
however, I am merely an observer, a poet,
someone who can only say what he sees,
and express how something makes him feel,
and, though sometimes I wish I were,
I am far from omnipotent,
and that is a good thing.

Life is what it is;
the world is many things,
and is in many states of being, all at once;
some things that happen can feel like a magic trick;
everyone can believe anything they want.
Whether in the bloom of spring;
whether in the cold but beautiful light and air of winter;
whether you are doing something you have done before,
or whether you are being blessed
with the sight of something you cannot ever remember
at any time before seeing;
whether you are sitting, standing, lying, waiting,
and you have a chance, a moment, to look around
and take in life and the world,
do so if you can with perfect vision
and with no need for a filter.

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