Every now and again,
each and every one of us
find ourselves somewhere
having to wait to do something,
somewhere we have to wait to see someone,
and every time we do there are always
certain things that we come to expect to find:
other people who are also waiting;
perhaps some music playing in the background;
some refreshments;
some reading material;
as well as a clock to tell us
how long we have to wait
and how long we have been waiting,
which always seems to move slower
than we want it to…
every now and again,
each and every one us
find ourselves somewhere,
alongside people we don’t know,
who we talk to, and who talk to us,
when the silence between us
becomes too unbearable -
most of the time in an attempt
to make “small talk”
and to fill the void that is present
throughout every experience
of having to pass the time of anticipation
within the walls of a waiting room.
time
My Poem “Big Days”
Over the course of our lives,
each and every one of us
have days of significance
that we know will have an impact on
us
and will influence us
in ways that we may not know
until a long time after the fact:
our first day of school;
the first time we fall in love;
our first day of college or university;
the first time our heart is broken;
our first day at our first job;
the first time we lose someone close to us;
our first day behind the wheel of our first car;
the first time we find someone
we want to spend the rest of our lives with;
the first time we look into the eyes of our first child
and we see the most perfect thing
that we have ever seen -
and after every instance that we find ourselves
at a moment that feels
special and life-changing,
there are never enough words
capable of expressing just how much
they mean to us…
as we grow and as we learn who we are,
what we want to do,
and where we want to be,
we all feel as if something
or someone is whispering in our ear
and telling us that the path
that we have embarked upon
will be full twist and turns,
ups and downs -
but along the way certain pieces
of the puzzle of our lives
will fall into place and reveal a hint to the secret,
as well as an answer to the question
that everybody finds themselves asking:
“Who am I? And where am I going?”
Over the course of our lives,
as weeks turn into months,
as months turn into years,
as we transition from youth to old age,
everybody experiences the sensation of time
speeding up, flashing before our eyes,
and almost leaving us all in a daze -
because there are so many things that happen,
there are so many first times
and there are so many last times
that we all have throughout our lives
that we never forget about,
because they remind us of who we are,
where we were, and how much of our lives
we have seen change
because of a series of important,
and always necessary, “big days”.
My Poem “Point of No Return”
Sometimes looking for inspiration
and trying to hear the voice
of the muse of poetry
is like attempting to find
the right frequency on a radio -
sometimes it comes through clear and distinctly,
sometimes you think you have got it
but then you lose it again,
and sometimes you find something
you never expected to find:
a melody, a song, a sound
that feels as if it were
waiting to be found
so that it could be captured and shared…
sometimes trying to make something
out of nothing can feel hard
when you cannot see anything
but a series of strewn components -
but when you reach a certain point
when you can see and decipher
signs that point towards
how seemingly random things
can all fit together like the pieces of a puzzle,
then you are able to see
why some things are not meant to be
what they are supposed to be
until they are ready to rise
like a loaf of bread.
Everyone was once a combination
of many different fragments -
subatomically, genetically, spiritually -
and then, for some reason,
we all returned and became
who and what we have all been destined to be
since the moment of our birth…
the sun, the moon, the dark matter
that binds the galaxies of the universe together,
were all once something else entirely -
not to mention our home world
that we owe our existence to:
the paradise that is planet Earth…
so much more has happened
over the course of the cosmos
than could ever be known, nor quantified -
including the dawn and the sunset
of countless lights that were once
beacons of hope and life
for now long-gone civilisations…
we can only remember, capture,
and preserve so much of what was
for the benefit of future generations.
Even before the first human began
measuring, recording,
and predicting the passage of time,
everything in existence has been
aware that there is a cosmic clock
that can only go in one direction,
and not in reverse -
which is essential to know
for our very survival…
even those who live
in a perpetual state of darkness
somehow can always know
when it is day and when it is night,
because something inside of us can always tell us what time it is -
whether we are basking in sunlight
or shielding underneath a shadow…
our biological senses
are all seemingly individual,
but sometimes some people
have a greater instinct and insight
into what it happening around them,
around others, and in other states of being
than lie beyond the veil of perception…
nobody lives the life they live
without having a clue or an idea
to hold on to that helps them
make sense out of the sometimes
chaotic world that greets them
when they attempt to connect
to what is going on, what people are doing,
what people are trying to say,
and what version of reality is being shared
on the constantly changing, evolving,
and sometimes repeating
multi-media landscape that humanity
has given birth to, feeds, sustains,
and will one day see transcend
and reach a point of no return
and perhaps beyond anyone’s ability stop.
My Poem “Fourth Dimensionally”
When you are a writer and an author,
you get used to thinking
"Fourth Dimensionally":
having the ability to be able to see
the beginning, the middle,
and the end of a story,
and having the gift to be able
to know all the intricacies
and interconnected threads
that bind the characters
of a story to one another...
when you are a storyteller,
you get used to seeing patterns
and figuring out narratives -
and you get to the reason
why people in your story
do what they do and why they are
the way that they are;
however, any writer will tell you
that sometimes you know
you are the one making things
happen in a story,
and sometimes you feel like you are not -
because sometimes a story
and it's characters take on a life of their own
and drive the narrative of a story
all by themselves...
as a writer, it helps to be
one step ahead of your characters
and purposefully put
certain things in place
to make sure a story stays
on the straight and narrow
and does not deviate from its path -
but sometimes when you are writing a story
something will happen within it
that will surprise you
and beg you to ask yourself:
"where did that come from?"
Being a writer is sometimes
like being a time traveler...
being a writer is sometimes
like being a literary god -
because to the world you are
writing, building, populating,
you are its creator...
being a writer is sometimes
like being given a license
to travel anywhere, anytime,
in any way that you want...
being a writer is sometimes
like being given the opportunity
to be a messenger of truth
and the reason for someone
to feel found and not lost.
Within the pages of a book,
within the images on a screen,
within the words of a song,
or within the notes of a musical theme,
time can be redefined for it audience -
because within literature, within light,
within colour, within art,
people perceive things differently...
within the world of fantasy
there is always an undertone of reality...
within every verse of poetry,
every word is necessary...
within the arc of a story,
reader, viewer, listener,
writer, artist, and musician
all collaborate to make
a world of possibilities what it is -
but sometimes what something
means isn't always front and centre
and as easily discernable
as some might hope it would be -
which is why, sometimes,
when you are enjoying something profound
it helps to not think too literally,
because some things exist
and are meant to be experienced
"fourth dimensionally".
My Poem “The Stuff of Dreams”
Everybody wants to go back...
some people want to go back
to the 1980s, or perhaps to the 1960s -
to a time when things, in retrospect,
seemed better than now...
whether it is the music,
the television, the movies,
or the fact that the world
felt more hopeful and optimistic,
people who grew up at a particular time -
before the internet,
before anyone who is anyone
could be famous
whether they are talented or not.
Everybody who looks back
at a time when technology was in its infancy,
when if you wanted to talk to someone
you either had to call them on the phone
or see them face to face,
remembers how simple, and yet wonderful,
the world seemed to be...
some people long for the first time
that they saw something,
for the first time that they heard something,
for the first time that they learned something,
for the first time that they felt something -
because the first of anything
influences everything that comes after.
Everybody wants to repeat the best of times
and forget about the worst of times,
but the world is not as black and white
as our television screens
used to make us believe it was -
because when seen beyond
even the marvel of technicolor
the clarity of real life
shows us all details that are too
complex to ever be captured.
Everybody occasionally hides
what they wish had never happened,
what they wish they hadn't done,
and what they would choose to undo
if they had a time machine of silver or blue -
but what people forget
is that if you were to change the past
then you would unravel
what made what was what it was:
the source of love, inspiration,
beauty, simplicity, poetry,
and hidden complexity that it will always be.
To go back would be fun,
but there are some things that matter more
because they are unrepeatable -
which is why the future is more important
and compelling to contemplate and hope to see,
because what could be, not what was,
is the true stuff of dreams.
The Pathfinder: Through Your Fingers
My Poem “Warrior”
When I was thirteen years old,
I distinctly remember
wishing that I had a time machine
so that I could travel through time -
and, within the blink of an eye,
it seems as if thirty years have gone by,
and here I am looking back
and wondering how everything
could have changed so much...
when I compare my life as a boy
to my life now as a man -
although some things have not changed -
when I look around and I remember
who is missing and who it was
who made me who I am,
I cannot help myself wishing
that I could go back
and get one more minute
with the people
who will always matter to me
and those who I will always love.
Christmases and birthdays
over time merge into one...
when we are younger
we feel as if we have
all the time in the world
to do anything and to go anywhere
we can imagine...
as we get older most people
do not want to be reminded
of how old they are,
because every day seems
to pass faster than the beats of a drum...
as the person who we see in the mirror
changes before our eyes
each of us look at ourselves
and wonder where all that time
went in between us
asking questions to our parents and us having to face
the scars of life that can be seen
upon our reflection.
Every year, I have always had
something to remind me
of how lucky I am to have the family
and the friends that I have had in my life,
and so many people whom I have met
have inspired me in more ways
than I could ever put into words -
but because of what I have seen,
and because of what I have been through
personally over the last few years,
I would be lying if I said that
I had not begun to wonder
whether my time was almost up
and whether my purpose in life
had perhaps already been fulfilled.
Sometimes I look back
and I see a younger version of myself
looking back at me -
someone who had yet to suffer
all the heartbreak and the loss that I have -
and I want to tell them the truth:
that things only get harder
as you get older;
however, if and when I try
to send a message back through time
to who I was in the past,
I always just tell myself that
things will be OK
but that there will be days
when things will change
beyond our control -
so make sure to be brave
and to never forget that
everything happens for a reason,
and one day you will realize
that you are someone
who was always going to be
who you were supposed to be:
someone who will always do
what must be done,
no matter what -
because, just like your father,
you are a warrior.
My Poem “There is no tomorrow”
It is good to dream,
and it is good to be a dreamer...
it is good to believe,
and it is good to be a believer...
it is good to send out a message of hope
into the universe without knowing
if you will ever receive a reply...
it is good to make a list of things
you want to do and places
you want to visit before you can't...
we all wish that some things
could be different and that we could
somehow go back and change what happened;
however, we are not meant
to have the power of a god,
we are not meant to live beyond
the last day of our destined journey,
we are not meant to know everything -
but each and every one of us,
right this second, have something
that we have in common:
an opportunity to choose
where we will go next, why, and how.
The past is fixed, indellible,
and what happened before is what it is...
the present is where we find ourselves now -
and everybody knows that
there is something important they want to do,
there is somewhere that they want to be,
and, usually, it is doing something else
and being somewhere else
than where they are...
the future does not exist until it does -
and, for most people, the future
is so far away and so illusive
that they do not realise
they have arrived there
until they take a look around
and see how much things
and people have changed...
every day we are alive
we are travelling into the world to come -
and as we get older
each day seems to
pass us by faster and faster,
as if we have all unwittingly
always be the participants within a race.
In life, we all lose more than we gain;
but it is over the course of our life
that we get to experience
and witness moments like no other,
and there is no better time
than today, and right away,
to do what you want to do,
to go where you want to go,
and to be with whoever
wants to be with you -
because when it comes to
making a choice that will
effect your life forever
the present is all that matters,
because there is no tomorrow.
markthepoet.me 