My New Book, Coming soon…

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My Poem “The Dark Tower”

I once spent an entire summer
with Roland Deschain,
“The Gunslinger”,
as we followed
the “Man in Black”
as he fled across the desert
of a world that had “moved on”,
in the pages of the books
of Stephen King’s epic
multi-novel adventure
“The Dark Tower” –
and it was as we journeyed
and followed the path
of the beams that led
to the tower that stands
and binds the worlds
of Stephen King’s stories together
that I discovered along the way
that the best stories
are like the most memorable dreams,
and that to find something
you may have been looking for
for as long as you can remember
sometimes the doorways
that we must walk through
we can only find
when we explore the world’s
that reveal themselves
under the covers –
and now I am preparing to enter
a movie-theatre so that I may return
to the world of Stephen King
and journey again across a desert
and through magical doors
with “The Gunslinger”
and return again to “The Dark Tower”.

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My Poem ‘In view of the Trocadero’

You can’t beat a great seat
near a window with a great view –
whether it be a panoramic-view in Italy
that features the epic and awe-inspiring sight
of a volcano called “Mount Vesuvius”,
or the watery-splendor of the majestic fountains
of the Palais de Chaillot in France,
or standing on the rocky-top of Tennessee…
there are some sights and some places
that irrevocably stay with you.

So much art has been created…
so many poems have been written…
so many stories have been generated…
so many songs have been christened
with the identity and the inspiration
that they will always be known for…
so many things cannot be captured
with a photograph, or with words –
because no matter what is seen or said
about a place in particular
there is always so much more…
memories from childhood of a place
that we visited mean so much
because they were the first time
that we went there,
and nobody ever forgets
their first time going somewhere…
legends are built upon
the retelling of tales
and the experiences of people
who wanted the history of the world
to never forget what it is
and what it was about a place
that gave people a reason to say
why it is that they care
and what is the most important thing
about a place that they want to share.

When you are looking out the window of an airplane
you feel like you are within
touching-distance of heaven…
when you are sitting on a bench in Golden Gate Park
and marveling at the oasis
of spell-binding beauty that you see
at the very heart of the city of San Francisco…
when you are standing on a seaside boardwalk
and you become intoxicated
by all that stimulates your senses
as you become hypnotized by the sight
of the bright sunlight
shimmering on the ocean waves below…
when you are somewhere that instantly
becomes somewhere that means the world to you,
you will take that place with wherever you go…
just like the view that I have now of The Trocadero –
a small reminder of a place with the same name,
that lives on even though it is far from home.

My Poem ‘One Giant Leap’

Small steps… few words…
giant leaps… new worlds…
sometimes to do the extraordinary
we have to go to places
we have never been…
sometimes to see things
we have never seen
we have to rocket away
from what we know
until we feel the pull
of a new source of gravity…
writing and telling stories
is a gift that has always been me…
writing a poem is like expressing a daydream,
writing a story and inventing a brand new world
of unique characters and situations
is like nothing else:
to me it is like letting the inspiration wolf
inside me out so that it can howl loud and run free.

Things grow… things begin as one thing,
and when they are fully-formed
they are something else…
at first, when something or someone
is first learning to find their feet
and walk tall most of the time
they take things slow…
when something or someone looks
at their own reflection
and they recognize themselves for the first time
for what they are that is when
they know what they must do,
and they begin to feel things
that they have never felt about themselves.

An idea can start as a single sentence,
and then that sentence can grow into a poem,
and then that poem can grow
into being a short-story, a novella…
and then, before you know it,
that same single idea has become
a fully-fledged story of its own
of people, places, and experiences,
that are so potent and are so powerful
that they can fill an entire book…
it cannot be quantified,
there is no equation that you can follow…
a poem, a story, an idea can grow steadily
over time into being
a force of nature in and of itself
with its own ideas and voice
about where it should go…
when writing any kind of story
you need to allow whomever your story is about
to find their own heart, their own soul,
their own spirit…
every story has a beginning, and an end –
but, sometimes, there is no way of knowing
how, when, and where, until you take
a step back from it and you allow it
to talk to you from far away
as well as up-close and personal.

I have written a story…
I have written a book…
I have spent hours, days, months,
writing, reading, editing, understanding,
and learning about what who my characters are
and going on a journey of discovery and identity
exploring a different, but familiar, world –
and, most importantly, I have not been afraid
to take risks into a sometimes dark
ocean of imagination and wading deep…
some times you have to learn to not think
too much about what you don’t know
and stop worrying about what you might find
when the time comes for you
to let your mind, your pen, your fingers,
and your words do the talking
when you decide to take your life’s small steps
and turn them into one giant leap.

My Poem ‘Where did you come from? I wasn’t expecting you?’

Within the blink of an eye,
within the flash of a burst of sunlight,
within an instant of time,
within a single simple impression
that touches you
when you see something
or someone at first-sight…
have you ever considered
what that moment is made up of
and where it comes from?
Have you ever thought about
what all the world
and all life is built upon?

There is always a before,
and there is always an after…
there is always energy,
and there is always matter…
there are always things
that you can’t understand
until you go through them…
there are always realities
that you can’t imagine
until you see them…
the most undeniable thing about life
is that you can never know everything
about it, about everyone who makes it,
about the depths and the secrets
of the universe beyond the sky
and our galaxy’s periphery outer-limit –
because every sphere has its own world…
every place has its own laws of nature…
every planet, every region of space,
has its own history, creation, story,
leaps in evolution, and future.

There is a reason for everything…
there is a reason we are all here…
there is a reason why nothing
can suddenly turn into something…
there is a reason for hope…
there is a reason for fear…
there is a reason for why
there are things that we need to know,
and there is a reason and a meaning
behind what makes us smile
and what brings us to tears.

Some things in life we hope for,
we plan for, we expect,
and we need to happen
to give our life the drive
and the spark to fill the world
with all that we were born to give…
sometimes when you are not expecting
to find paradise or perfection
you can stumble upon an oasis
or someone who to you is the most beautiful…
some things are so precious and meaningful,
and in every way they must be held
close to your heart as a gift…
sometimes life can become so simple,
especially when you look up
and you see something new
and you say to yourself loud and clear:
where did you come from?
I wasn’t expecting you?

My Poem ‘The Good Reader’

From acorn to tree…
to paper… to writer…
from life to inspiration…
from the pen of a poet…
to the eyes
and the imagination of a reader…
from out of a cloud of chaos…
something new… something personal…
something that like the person
writing it down and the place
from where the paper
it is being written on came from…
something incredible made believable…
something two-dimensional brought to life
so that it may walk the walk of words
and then take a leap from the page
into the mind of the one
who is reading what is being described…
a world imagined and captured
like a bolt of lightning in a bottle…
something that is a testament
to the power of the human mind…
it is amazing what a writer can do
and what pattern of magical words
they can weave…
it is amazing what a writer
can make a person believe…
epic journey’s have begun
and have been taken
by readers following every word
of every sentence of a writer’s story…
adventures of every height, depth,
and distance have been undertaken
by people who yearn to escape reality
and let their mind and their heart run-free…
over the centuries and after all the tales
that have been told there is still nothing
better to read than a story
that is based on true-events…
even to this day there is no better thing
to experience than to be told a story
and to hear a story while sitting around
a campfire at night with a group of friends…
ghost-stories, recollections,
tales of what, where, when, how, and who with…
some stories sometimes are so amazing
and miraculous that it is hard to know
what is imaginary and what is the real-thing…
a story, like a dream, is a world
that everybody steps into, lives,
and then takes something away from…
a story, a book, a world of characters
and people who we find within a tale
that must be told and read
can teach us something that we never knew
and it can also tell us something
about ourselves…
in countless bookstores, libraries,
on countless displays and book-shelves,
there is untold treasure to be found,
infinite sunsets and sunrises to be seen,
as if staring at the horizon from a pier…
sometimes it is just impossible
to put a book or a story down
once you have begun reading it –
and no matter where a book
or a story takes you
there is only one thing that you can do,
and only one thing that you want to do:
follow the words of a writer
and be a good reader.

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My Poem ‘Sound of the Silence’

Stars, planets, solar-storms, galactic-energy –
every sphere of the universe
produces music from a source within
that keeps them spinning
and generating their unique voice;
artists, composers, song-writers, vocalists –
every living and breathing man and woman
who has ever created something
and who has ever been inspired
to realise their lifes-work
is driven by a silent beating heart
within their chest more powerful
than could ever be imagined;
memories, recollections,
reminders of a time gone by
that just will not die
because they have no choice;
stories, movies, the eclectic soundtrack
of your childhood that is centred around
and continues to orbit
a wormhole of space and time
that continues to broadcast
and influence your life,
your thoughts, and your actions,
every second of every minute.

All hail the music of the silence;
all raise their hands to feel the vibrations
and the beat of something amazing and beautiful;
all hear the sound of the timeless;
all be entranced by the light of the light-house,
and look up in wonder at the sight
of the broken satellite;
all watch the disc of colour spin,
and allow yourself to slip back in time
to the endless summer days of golden sunlight;
all close your eyes and go on a journey
inside your mind and be carried away
by the waves of the universal
energy-current of the universe;
all listen to the crackle of the static
and then fall head-first into the vortex
that spins like an album of vinyl.

To me, silence is just music
that we haven’t yet discovered
how to listen to in the right way;
to me, music in its infinite forms
will always play throughout all eternity –
whether it is heard, or not,
the music of life can never be silenced;
to me, music is one of the only things
that can make you feel at home
as well as take you far away;
to me, all the world is a church of music
and all of humanity are receptors
and worshippers of a divine sound
that is sometimes both powerful and silent –
and that is why I say that we should all
put our hands to our chest
and proclaim with one voice:
all hail the silence.