My Poem “Senses”

When looking for inspiration,
like the petaled head of a flower,
sometimes we have to face the sun
and let its light open our eyes…
when looking for inspiration,
like a bat flying through
the dark sky of night,
sometimes we have to use
our senses to guide us
when we find ourselves
in a state of diminished sight…
when looking for inspiration,
like a young child exploring the world
of their surroundings for the first time,
sometimes we have to search, pick things up,
question what something is and what it means…
when looking for inspiration,
like a college student about to embark upon
a journey of further knowledge
and a greater understanding of what life is all about,
sometimes we have to take a leap into the unknown
and have faith in ourselves and in the power of our dreams…
when looking for inspiration,
like a hummingbird to a bird-feeder,
sometimes we have to return to the same places
over and over again in order to discover
things that we might have missed…
when looking for inspiration,
like the planet that we live upon and with,
sometimes we have to make amends with nature,
we have to embrace every new day and opportunity
as if it were a new friend
and allow everything that you gravitate towards
for whatever reason to influence your thoughts
and invigorate your senses.

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My Poem “Some Gifts”

Some gifts we are born with…
some gifts we slowly find
as we look, listen, think, breathe,
and as we feel the song of the world
synchronize with our heart beats…
some gifts come to us in our dreams…
some gifts are such a part of us
that every day is a journey of discovery
to discover what our gifts mean…
some gifts leave us for a short time
before rising to the surface again
to take a breath and to take a look around
so that they can restart their fire of desire
like a phoenix’s flaming tail that never stops burning…
some gifts just need time to go to new places
in order for them to express themselves like never before.

Every gift has the power to renew itself –
as long as there is solid ground beneath them
to take off from and a sky of infinite possibilities
above them to keep the constellations of stars turning…
all gifts are doorways, however some gifts
are able to create things that nobody has ever experienced,
heard, felt, nor seen before.

Some days ideas come like a trickle of interconnected thoughts
and some days some gifts manifest themselves
like a tidal wave of inspiration,
or like a storm that ultimately reaches its climax
when ideas rise and fall
like the raindrops of a downpour.

My Poem “Driftwood”

So much of life is beautiful…
so much is beautiful about life…
so much of life is expressed through colour…
so much of life is expressed through music…
so much of the world speaks
with a silent tongue in moments of stillness…
a brown leaf falling
from the branch of a tree to the ground…
the silhouettes of things
both exposed and obscured
because of the early morning
light of the sun…
a green field with yellow flowers
swaying in the breeze…
the slowly flowing water of a river…
nature certainly puts on a show for the senses
when you stop and take it all in…
it is with the golden light
that shines from above
that you can see the world’s gifts…
it is when we are free and unconfined
that we can truly breath in and breath out
the essence of meaning of nature,
life, belonging, and light…
it is with the gentle breeze that you feel
that your thoughts and your dreams
may dance the waves of life like driftwood.

My Poem “Rhapsody”

The voices of everybody over-lap…
one minute the music is jazz,
the next the beautiful melody of a piano…
the echoes of a chorus of sounds
are carried through the air
like the waves of an ocean…
there are moments of time that run slow
and there are those that race past
and then are gone again in a flash…
there is a dance of people,
of language, of emotions,
of noise, of stillness, of silence…
the beats of a heart,
the thoughts of a mind,
the air and the ambiance
that flows gently like a stream
can gradually become a waterfall –
the place, the people, the music,
the moment that is filled
with an infinite number of instants
that make them who and what they are
is what is at the heart
and what is the true essence
of what poetry, to me, is all about…
the best poetry comes from the heart of a poet
who feels a moment of time and an experience
so deeply and so profoundly
that it can only be expressed as a rhapsody.

My Poem ‘Cornucopia’

Different voices appeal to different people…
different values can be found
within the heart of members of the same family…
different songs and different styles of music
strike different tones depending on
who is listening to them…
different minds and different lives
contain different thoughts, feelings,
and drives, that need the right elixir
to elicit a reaction to break the shell
of their outside facade to set them free.

We are all different – nobody is a robot…
we are all looking for what makes sense –
but sometimes life is a melting-pot
from which we have to put the time
and the effort into molding the molten-soup
that we find into exactly what we want.

Humanity is a choir
of many different accents,
that at times sing harmoniously
as-one with the same message…
our entire planet and every form of life
is an opera with an infinite number
of parts and characters…
some people can be kind,
some people can be savage –
and yet everyone is a vital instrument
in life’s interstellar-orchestra,
even though some people may not think
that what they say actually matters.

I have always championed diversity,
differences, and variety…
I have always thought that it was both
healthy and necessary to make-believe,
to find something that you love doing,
and to never feel too self-conscious
about doing what makes you happy…
some people listen to music,
some people make music,
some people express their gifts
through art that can be easily shared –
me, I write poetry…
but one thing is for sure:
everybody is meant to be different,
and the world is meant to be
a diverse cornucopia.

My Poem ‘Winging It’

Leaving home…
leaving your comfort-zone…
looking up to the sky…
extending your wings, preparing to fly…
only one place, only one destination in mind…
soon to pass in front of the moon
and rocket as fast as you can
to the land of the free,
and for a while leave your home behind.

You travel light, you travel alone…
you travel morning to night,
and night to morning…
you travel, because you have heard a calling…
you travel, and as you do
you live a dream.

Certain days in our life are like landmarks
that we anchor ourselves to…
certain days – like birthdays, Christmas,
New Years Day – keep us grounded and reminded
of the important things in life…
certain days in our life
remind us of days gone by –
even though they are completely brand new…
certain days continue to shine all our lives
with the beauty and the intensity of heaven’s light.

Like in Peter Pan, it is your happiest of thoughts
that elevates you and allows you to rise above…
like your soulmate’s smile,
it is their breathtaking beauty
and the feelings that they stimulate in you
that makes your heart glow like a star in your chest
which is the epitome of all that you love…
until you have felt the freedom
of being unbounded by gravity
only then can you know what it is like
to be an astronaut floating in space…
for some people, flying is something
that they get to do every-day –
and, personally, I can think of nothing more amazing
than being intertwined with the palpable energy
of the indescribable that never ceases
to put a smile on every face.

I think that there should be more
astronauts who are poets…
I think that there should be more
travelers who rely on their instincts…
I think that there should be more
gateways to new frontiers, rather than fences…
I think that there should be more
people who would do whatever it takes
to helps others to see and understand
what it means to be truly alive…
I think that making plans is a great thing to do –
however, in my opinion, in my experience,
sometimes you just have to let things happen
naturally and grow out of the moment –
in other words: sometimes in life
it is best to not worry about what you don’t know,
and take a leap into the unknown,
and until you know what you are doing
just do what I do regularly:
get busy at winging it!

My Poem ‘Somnabulists’

Sometimes when we fall asleep,
as we cross the threshold into dreams,
we instantly wake up…
most of the time,
when we recall what ran through our mind
over the course of the night before
we remember the middle and the end of a dream,
but not the start…
some people live out their hopes
and some people live out their fears
when they walk the streets
of the world of forty-winks…
for some people dreaming of another place
and another time is a welcome escape…
some dreams dreamed are a nightmare
from beginning to end,
while others you want to continue having
for the rest of your life
because they are filled
with so much that you love…
dreamers draw on so much when they dream –
from their life, from their soul,
from their senses, from the joys, and from the sadness
that everybody has within their heart…
learning how to dream
and learning how to live
and breath within a dream
is harder to achieve than some might think…
when we dream, we submit…
when we dream, we let go…
when we dream we all become
a part of the universes oldest myth…
when we dream we give up our control
over our own mind and our own
imagination-engine and we allow
our thoughts and our secrets
to merge into one and just flow –
like a waterfall, like a river,
adding to the infinite depth that has no end,
that often spills out into the waking-world
and is sometimes caught by a camera-lens…
everybody dreams differently, at different times,
and sometimes in different colours…
everybody sees the physical world
and the dream-world from a different perspective,
and their dreams reflect that…
every animal, every bird,
every angel, every man, woman, boy, and girl,
learn vital lessons and they confront
internal manifestations
of real-world obstacles and desires –
and that is at the centre
of dreaming and dreams,
and it is what gives dreams their power…
our dreams are our place
to filter through our thoughts and our memories,
and sometimes the steps that we take
within a dream our physical body
re-enacts in the real-world –
and when that happens,
in both dreams and in life,
we all become sleepwalkers.