vision
My Poem “Visionary” – Happy National Poetry Day!
No matter what you see,
no matter how you feel,
no matter what you hear,
no matter what is going on
in the world around you,
no matter if the sky above
is cloudy instead of blue,
as long as you have within you
a vision and a view that you can
look to
every time you need to
to give your thoughts, your feelings,
and your emotions a boost –
whether what you look to is a place
like a beach or a city,
or whether who you look to a person
like someone who you love and who loves you:
that vision of hope, that may be a memory
from recently or from long ago,
that always has a power to enthrall,
to inspire, and to rejuvenate you
is the poetry of your mind and your soul
that has been brought into being
over the course of your life –
like a dream fueled by who and what
you imagine night after night –
which gives the gift of a voice
to everybody on Earth –
both old and young –
who have a story to be told
and a song to be heard
that continues, connects,
and contributes to epic experiment
of life and the poetic experience
that is the world within our universe.
Happy National Poetry Day! 😊
My Poem “Eyes”
I wonder how many people realise
that when they are staring into
another person’s eyes
that they are not only looking at
the windows into a person’s soul
but they are also seeing the most
external part of that person’s brain
which is constantly relaying multiple images
at the speed of light down the optic nerve
of each eye to the part of the brain
responsible for making decisions
and stimulating many simultaneous
reactions as a result,
and it is also true that you can tell
a lot about a person’s health
and their lifestyle by watching
the way that the iris of someone’s eye
moves, dilhilates, focuses and flickers –
and I think the fact that our eyes
have such a direct connection to
the way our brain operates,
the thoughts that we have,
and the storm of chemicals that
bubbles up within us perfectly
symbolises
why it is important to take care of your eyes
because they are vital in more ways
that some people might realise.
My Poem “Your own vision”
Words are sometimes incapable
of describing and deciphering
the answer and the meaning
of a moment because language
unfortunately has limitations…
a moment of time can be captured
within the edges of a photograph,
but the true impact of something
meaningful is instead imprinted
upon a person’s soul and can be
relived time after time within
the theatre of a person’s imagination.
Feelings and emotions are a complex
cocktail that can intoxicate someone
to the degree that their instincts
are expressed outwardly
and some feelings and emotions
can also make someone so overcome
and so overwhelmed that they find themselves dumbfounded and speechless…
some people see order within chaos
and instead of seeing a mess
they see a way to combine
all of the disparate pieces
and build a bridge of semblance
that leads straight to a place of calmness
without descending along the way
into a maelstrom of stress.
It’s not always easy to get your
point across about something distinctly…
it’s not always easy to be yourself
when you think that you are unable
to be truly understood without confusion…
it’s not always easy to have faith in things
–
especially if you are someone who needs
to be shown something before you can
start down a road of believing…
it’s not always easy to hold on to a dream,
but everybody ultimately needs to be
their greatest cheerleader
and if you want to make something a reality
then you have got to hold on to
and cherish what you see as perfection
because no one can take away from you
everything which uniquely combines
to form your version of your own vision.
My Poem “Pool of Contemplation”
As I sit looking at the ripples
upon this pool that I have been
familiar with since I was a child,
I contemplate so much about what I know,
about what I don’t know,
about what has happened, about life,
and about what will happen
when all is said and done
and when the world feels like it has been
put back together after such a long
period of feeling as is if
the seams that held everything together
were beginning to become undone.
I know this place…
I have stared into this water
more times than I can remember…
I have a connection to this place…
I once sat down and painted this very pond
long ago when I was a child –
and then, just as now, I felt compelled
to see and to find shimmering
sources of inspiration, of connection,
of that something about nature
that feels indefinable, magical,
wonderful, and phenomenal.
There has always been something
calming to me about staring
into a pool of water…
there has always been something
ethereal about the thought of
what may be found within the depths
a puddle, a pool, a pond, a river,
a sea, an ocean –
beyond the surface, below the waves –
where nobody can venture to
without external oxygen
or without an imagination,
to explore things that have
a life of their own,
where things remain unseen
until they are explored,
and where things which always
spark into life
the fire of inspiration:
things that I always find
whenever I look
into a pool of reflection
and contemplation.
My Poem “The Old Mark”
There is a man looking at me
before my eyes…
there is a man looking at me
who I do not recognize…
there is a man looking at me
who has my memories…
there is a man looking back at me
as I look at them who has been
growing within me for years…
there is a man who has lived
every day with me, and I realize
now that we are eye to eye who they are…
there is a man who is as close
as can be to me
who used to be nothing more
than a shadowy figure on the horizon…
there is a man who looks like a man,
but who also seems so alien to me
that for all I know
he could have come from Mars…
there is a man who was once young
and unscarred by life, by people, and by himself,
but who is who I see now in X-ray
and for all his faults…
I see myself as I once was, and as I am now –
one and the same, a man of light and a man of dark…
I see the young dreamer,
and the old Mark.
My Poem ‘Finding Serenity’
I once followed the light of a Firefly,
and when I watched it
until its last second of life
something happened, something amazing…
the light of the Firefly went out,
but then the Firefly was reborn into Serenity –
and now it will live forever in my heart,
and in the hearts of many…
all those who were caught in the Firefly’s wake…
as it flew, as it soared,
as it became something close to people’s heart.
Firefly meant something special,
and it always will…
Firefly was like nothing else
that anybody had ever seen –
because it was unique,
because it was not afraid to be itself,
because it gave us all a vision of something magical:
a world that was shiny and beautiful
filled with different people, from all walks of life,
all working together, who all believe
in the power of the impossible,
and that believing in one-another
is what makes them mighty.
The Firefly continues to fly,
and now it is a star in the night-sky…
Serenity is always there to be found
right where you left it –
like a book on a shelf;
it is so sad to see someone’s spirit
leave this world –
I know that life is precious
and that we are only here for a short time,
but it is the thought that you
will never see the like of certain people again
that hurts the most;
everybody looks for something,
for someone, for some reason,
and what we all seek is out there
waiting for us to find it…
sometimes it can be something
as subtle as a song, an experience, a feeling,
or a verse of poetry…
if you keep going, if you keep looking,
and if you don’t stop believing
that you are going to find
what you are looking for –
then, maybe, you can be like me,
and you can be lucky enough
to have found Serenity.
In memory of Ron Glass
My Poem ‘Ice Dreams’
Ice-skating in New York City;
building snowmen in London;
waiting to hear
if the groundhog saw his shadow
in Punxsutawney, Pensylvannia;
sitting in your living room with your children
while watching the movie ‘Frozen’;
collecting fire-wood;
going for long walks;
sitting in a cafe with a coffee and a good book;
meeting up with friends
and enjoying the company of someone
who you haven’t seen in a while
and having a good catch-up and talk;
wrapping up well in thick clothing;
wrapping gifts to be given to friends and family;
listening to seasonally-themed songs
playing on the radio that you can’t resist
the temptation to sing-along with;
the tradition of decorating a room and a tree
that when completely adorned
has the wonderful gift
of making all that look upon it
incredibly happy.
Everybody has a vision and a memory
of what Winter is all about;
to some people the cold temperatures
of winter are what they dislike the most
and they would gladly, if they could,
do without;
to me, it wouldn’t be Christmas especially
if it were not cold, cloudy,
and at any moment it did not feel
like it were about to snow at any moment –
I don’t think I could get used to
having a Christmas, in say Australia,
where it is as hot as the turkey
that is being served up on the dinner table
outside in the sun,
where as you are eating
you can smell the aroma
of food being cooked
on a nearby barbecue.
There are some people
who have never seen
a single real-life flake of snow
fall before their eyes;
their are some people
who have seen more winter days
to last a life-time;
their are some people
who could just out of their window
at a flurry of snow without ever getting bored,
while happily enjoying mulled-wine and mince-pies;
their are some people who know and love
that it is winter by the intoxicating smell of pine.
There is something about winter
that brings out different things in different people;
there is something amazing and beautiful
about how the light of the sun
shines on a winter day
and the way that it can make everything gleam;
there is something fairy-tale-like, and almost magical,
about a snow-covered world;
there is something about everything
that stirs the imagination
that calls back to memories of childhood experiences –
and though to some the thought of cold
and of snow might be their version of a nightmare,
everybody can remember every time
that they had a waking-
or a night-time envisioning
of a very memorable,
and a most-likely cold,
ice dream.
My Poem ‘This is heaven’
I am leaving heaven now,
time has gone by so fast,
I am heading home
to the place where I was born,
but soon enough I will be back
at home in Tennessee
where I belong.
One week in heaven;
one week happier
than I have ever been;
one week, seven days
that have been the best ever;
one week in which every day
was so amazing, special,
incredible, and beautiful,
every second and every thing
could have a part of a dream.
The things that I felt,
the things that I saw,
the things that were so wonderful
that they made me want to melt;
the things that will always be
a part of me which I will always adore.
I finally met the woman of my dreams-
my angel, my soulmate, the love of my life;
I got to travel to places
that I will think of fondly
and crave to return to whenever I can
at every opportunity, every day,
until the day I die;
I found something that I had been missing;
I was given a vision of the future,
and what I saw was breath-taking.
Every moment in heaven –
every touch, every kiss,
every wake-up before the sunrise,
every laying down to rest
after the sun had set –
was and will always be
unlike anything that has ever happened to me;
while I was in heaven
I didn’t want to miss a thing,
and because I was so happy where I was
with whom I was with
I did not even feel the need
to write a single line of poetry.
When I first arrived in Tennessee,
which will forever be heaven to me,
one of the first faces I saw
was the face of the most beautiful
in the entire world…
and as I leave now,
as I journey back
across the ocean of deep-blue,
I feel brand new,
I feel lucky,
I feel like ‘heaven’ is the only way
to describe the place where I have been,
if I could use only a single word.
This place is my home away from home;
this place is somewhere
that I will always be bound to,
and with it and its people
I will always share a connection;
this place is one of the most
phenomenal places I have ever known;
this place, Tennessee, to me
will always be heaven.
My Poem ‘Venti’
My heart is big;
my imagination is vast;
my inner voice regularly
becomes audible when I write or sing;
my vision is a constant bridge
to the future and the past;
my cup is always full;
my love is for the most beautiful;
my reason for being
does not have one meaning;
my life has been blessed
by the truly amazing;
I feel deeper than the deepest well;
every poem that I write
I like to think of as both
a seed and a fully-fledged tree;
when I see things that inspire me
I just cannot wait to capture,
show, and share all through my poetry –
because every thought that I have
is always the same size
as my favourite cup of coffee…
markthepoet.me 