Some people want to live a life that is undemanding, easy, quiet and hassle-free... some people want to live a life living and doing the same things every day... some people sometimes make a wish that their life was more thrilling and full of experiences and events that might add more depth and colour to a seemingly black and white existence... some people sometimes believe that if they meet the right person then their entire life would make sense and they would feel complete... some people want things that they can't have, shouldn't have, but they want them anyway... some people want the truth - but in the end they find out that they might have been happier believing a lie... some people have this instinct to reach for the highest point, to stand upon the highest summit, to go fast and to not think about who and what they might encounter along their journey... some people can seemingly do nothing and for some reason someone won't like them... some people like roller-coasters and slides... some people like the challenge of a climb... some people sometimes find themselves living in a maelstrom of their own choices, actions, and emotions that makes them pine for when the weather around them was more predictable, pleasant, and fine... some people do things in their life and there comes a moment when they realize the true meaning of the wish/curse "May you live in interesting times".
Times
My Poem “Missing Time”
Since the start of this world-shattering pandemic I know deep in my soul that I have missed the sound of a particular source of music - a soundtrack, a beat, a rhythm of life that can be heard, felt, and seen within your minds eye, whether it be morning, noon, or night: the same pulse of inspiration that first surged within me at the very moment when I knew that I was born to be a poet. What I love about writing and what keeps me coming back to the blank page time and again is the same thing that I miss about sitting in a café surrounded by people, before the days of mandatory masks and before compulsory social distancing. The thrill of the unknown, the magic of the instantaneous, the order and the chaos that to me always made sense and which I could always easily pull into focus: all that being an artist is all about... you can't plan for it, you can only create it when you feel it within you boiling away with such ferocity that you know it is about to explode - which is why artists need to capture what occurs to them before whatever idea forms combusts into dust and becomes as spectral as a ghost. I yearn to go back in time... I wish that I could return to a place at a point in the past where and when I truly believed every moment would always last... I still cannot believe that we are all living in the world that greets my senses and compels my thoughts and my emotions so overwhelmingly... I wish that I could do something, I wish that I could write something, I wish that I could imagine something that might serve to transport everybody away from our current stark reality - perhaps to a moment of peace, joy, and love that the world once enjoyed, or to a time in the future when I know the memory of our current present will not be as potent. I have personal places and I have particular times where and when I return to within my thoughts and within my dreams that mean the world to me that feel so close to me that I could reach out and grasp them: perfect moments the like of which everybody has, which we all would do anything to get back to, which we never stop missing and which are among life's most precious of blessings.
My Poem “Sacrifice”
These are crazy times…
these are the days that we hoped would never come…
these are the times when people are
acting on their survival instincts… these are the days that we will hopefully
one day look back upon and marvel at
humanity’s collective ability
and each of our own individual capacity
to do all that we feel like we need to do
when faced with a crisis that we cannot control
but which we can play our part in finding
a way through the thick fog
of what we do not understand.
Each of us recognise that the time
we are living through now
most of the time feels like a struggle…
each of us know that feeling of distress,
of disappointment, of depression
that rears its ugly head and rises
to the surface of our minds
when we are hindered from doing
what we want to do, going where
we want to go, being with who
we want to be with –
there are people staring out their windows within the safety of their home,
there are doctors, nurses, patient care techs
who are working long shifts in hospitals
who wish that they did not have to be so far away from their loved ones,
but who are all choosing to do
what they feel they need to do
to beat the threat that feels like
it has engulfed the world
and which is praying on people
young and old from every walk of life.
As Winston Churchill once said:
“This is not the end.
It is not even the beginning of the end.
But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning” –
and it is this quote that has been
carrying me through these times,
and I am sure that these words
I will continue to repeat to myself
as the chaotic times of our present predicament
continue to change and ask of us
to be strong, to be safe, to be mindful,
and to be the best version of ourselves
and to not choose to give in to fear
and to the dark side of human nature
that some people dwell upon
and act upon because they cannot help themselves…
the human race will survive
what we are all going through…
the human race has had to deal with
and live through atrocities
of our own making because of human action
or inaction before and we will one day
get the chance to reflect upon these times, these days, this real-life nightmare
and find a way to live with our own sacrifice.
My Poem ‘Numbers’
Numbers surround us;
numbers connect us;
numbers help us remember things –
from the home where we live,
to the age that we are;
numbers define some people;
numbers are important to some people;
numbers are how some people
judge whether someone has something or nothing;
numbers have grown in importance and in prominence
since there invention –
from the moment that somebody started declaring
that one added to one is two,
and that the greater the number of something you have the better,
the more power you have,
and with your numbers you can do anything.
Numbers are more important to our daily lives than we realize;
certain numbers are more significant to us than others;
numbers are all that some people see in and with their eyes;
certain numbers: dates, times, addresses, “lucky numbers”,
can make people feel better;
numbers are our key to places, to our finances;
numbers can also be a sign of understanding and knowledge;
numbers are how we know the worth of something,
according to their prices;
numbers can be a way to encourage.
Numbers are fearsome, numbers are cruel,
numbers are tiresome, some numbers: not cool.
Numbers are stressful,
send you wild with rage;
numbers are frightening,
dictating your age.
Numbers keep you up revising,
deep into the night;
numbers make you shed a tear,
but persist and they’ll cause you delight.
Numbers are everywhere you look,
and sometimes they are more populous than words;
some numbers are constantly changing;
some numbers always remain the same;
numbers exist in their own, and they connect,
every kind of world;
numbers connect lots of things:
from follow counts on websites,
to balances in bank accounts;
from pin numbers, to lottery numbers;
from years of birth,
to the number that we see of a particular bird.
Everybody in the world secretly
has an inbuilt obsession with numbers.
With thanks to Katie Hewer for the third verse! 😉
Mark The Poet 