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Two starlings dancing in the sunlight,
foraging all around in trees, hedge-rows,
and on the ground, for the sustenance of life,
and also for the first of many pieces
to begin building their new nests-
to passers-by they see them and go about their morning unnoticed;
however, I cannot take my eyes away,
I am hypnotized by this pairing and by what they are doing-
and as the starlings both take-flight one after the other,
as the sun shines directly on my face,
my insight too flies away.
A couple sit on the lip of a fountain-
their hands touching each-others,
their fingers harmonized and entwined with one-another’s-
embracing, showing, and sharing their love with the world;
as they kiss in the way that only they know how to kiss,
as one of the couple slowly puts their hands to the others face,
the other closes their eyes, while dancing their feet in the fountain’s water-
their love for their unity is hard to miss-
they are the most perfect picture I have ever seen,
locked in an intimate and infinite moment of ecstasy,
but they do not look out of place.
Strangers on a train, who see and talk and share
their view of life and the world with each-other everyday,
in the same carriage, on the same route-
who are more honest with themselves, and with their train acquaintance,
than they are with their family, their partner-
who looks forward to conversing every morning and every night
with someone who shares the same love for the same fruit-
paired-together, not just so that they may pass the time
while travelling from paint ‘a’ to point ‘b’;
brought-together, to enrich both of their lives
for as long as their time together shall be.
At the heart of the Pacific Ocean,
on an island removed and isolated from the outside world
the Moai statues of Easter Island-
standing tall, un-moving, carved in stone,
and even today their significance, their truth,
and their history is still being excavated, and unfurled-
still remain to be seen by all and marveled at
on this sacred ground from where they were sculptured,
that have stood for hundreds of years- each unique from the other-
embody the importance of lineage and ancestry,
and a story that can still be heard.
As they gaze inland
towards the direction to which the clan that first erected them once resided,
the islanders of Isla de Pascua
still today look in the direction of the great stone memorialized deities
that still watch over their island-
and even though they may not see them directly,
they can always picture them in their head.
I have always been fascinated by the moai statues-
how some once stood, were then topped, and were then risen again
to their rightful place;
I could never get enough of reading or hearing about
what they once meant to their people-
a constant reminder of a culture and face
that you cannot easily erase.
Remembering the past and retracing where we have all come from
is very important, and in doing so can teach you about yourself-
learning and discovering something about an ancestor of yours,
who was born somewhere far-away,
whose thoughts, actions, and decisions,
still live-on hereditarily and genetically in each one of us,
is as important to know as our own health.
I one day hope to be able to go somewhere,
find a monument to someone great, and discover-
like the Moai of Easter Island-
that this monument was carved for me to find, to see,
and to reconnect with a broken ancestry
that I can reforge, and call my own;
I hope one day to be able to hear the echoes of the past,
and see the light and the shadow of those who have passed, loud and clear-
and be reminded that although everything changes,
some things are forever set in stone.
I can still remember the first time that I was stung by a bee,
I can still feel the pain that started at my left arm
that then spread throughout my entire body;
I can still taste the tears that welled up in my eyes,
rolled down my cheeks, and found there way into my mouth;
I can still see what it was that put a smile on my face afterwards,
and what soon returned me to full-health.
It is fair to say that I had a lot of crushes while growing up-
“love” was a word that I heard all the time,
but it wasn’t until I saw a girl that I cared about kissing my best friend
that I felt and I saw what love was close-up.
It was a strange, painful, and an unfamiliar, feeling at the time-
I can still see them both, even after all these years,
in each others embrace, as I stood staring at them
as if they were in that moment something divine.
Unfortunately, after I saw them,
my mind became flooded with feelings of hurt, jealousy, and betrayal-
I thought that I was going to cry,
because my emotions were over-full.
To this day, I still say that the moment I first felt my heart break
hurt more than any bee sting, ever-
it is a pain that changes you from head to toe,
and I would wish it on no one, never.
It wasn’t until years later that I concluded that
that first heart-shattering moment was the tell-tale sign
that I had fallen in love;
it wasn’t until I had fallen over and over, again and again,
into the beautiful ocean of wonder
that were the eyes of someone who I cared the world for
that I understood that being in love was what fitted me like a glove.
I love to love, I love what love does to me,
I love who I am when I am in love,
and I love that the person that I love never stops inspiring me.
I still get intoxicated when a certain person talks to me,
or enters the same room-
it is everything about them: their voice, their face, their smile,
their eyes, that intoxicates me- more than any spirit, or perfume.
People say that love is blind.
They say that love can make you crazy, mad,
that there isn’t a manual for perfection,
and that love never goes to plan-
and I would have to agree;
but love, to me, is the best thing in the world,
and if you have to be mad to feel it,
then call me a mad man.
Time is so precious.
If you had just one day to do everything that you want to do, anything-
what would you choose?
If I could do anything, I would do exactly what I am doing now:
sit down, listen to the sounds of life rushing by,
look out my window at the endless blue sky,
and converse with the eternal muse.
Moments like this are becoming fewer and farther between for me
in this new season of change;
but now it doesn’t matter-
what happened yesterday, or what will happen tomorrow-
all that matters today is what the world and I choose to exchange.
There was no time at the beginning of the universe,
just as there isn’t now-
it wasn’t until we began to measure the interval between moments
and placed great reverence on the knowledge of when things happened,
and how,
that was when we were all chained forever to the hours, the minutes,
and the seconds of every clock-
that was when we first began to follow time,
as if it were the shepherd to our flock.
If it were not for time, however, would anything ever get done?
I believe that it still would,
but we wouldn’t be as impatient as we are,
and we would still know that it was still daytime
by the appearance and the position of the sun.
Times are so precious.
Things happen in life, and they are over before you know it.
Special moments of infinite meaning for us all fade so quickly
that we cannot bear to admit.
The memories that stay with us, that we dwell on,
remember every hour of every day, that brighten our day-
like sunshine bursting through a cloud-
are everything-
they are the after, they are what whispers to us,
and they are what can be heard by all, and loud.
I have always believed that life is a continuum-
that everything happens all at once,
and that where we are going is exactly the place
from where we have come from-
that when we arrive at the top of the hill,
or at the highest branch of the tree,
we have the knowledge that the only way through is up,
and that remembering as much of what you have learned and felt in your life
is what will allow you to let go, and fly free.
“Speak your mind”,
“Honesty is always the best policy”,
“Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind”
“Confidence is always the cure to jealousy”-
great sentiments, good advice;
but how many people truly believe them,
how many people truly believe what they say?
How many people are honest with themselves, and with others?
How many people truly make the most out of every day?
To be heard, you have to speak out;
to accomplish something, you have to have no doubt;
to be yourself, you need only to act naturally;
to be seen, sometimes you have to become your own gallery.
Everyone has an opinion about every thing,
and most people rebel against any kind of persuasion-
an expert in behaviour would say that people are predictable,
repeating patterns that can be calculated, as if in some kind of an equation;
however, I would argue that when intense emotions are concerned
that can never be the case-
just as in great beauty we can find vulgarity,
and in chaos we can discover immense grace.
Some people internalize their emotions and thoughts-
while others shout them into the air, and paint them on walls.
Some only reveal their true-side
when they are following the exploits of their favourite team,
in their favourite sport-
while others wear their interests on their chests twenty-four hours a day,
with the ferocity of Niagara Falls.
Whether quiet, or outspoken- everybody has a voice;
whether cerebral, or brutish- our defining nature has seasons,
like a planet does; however, our real defining power lies in our gift of choice.
Unlike an animal, Human beings are not driven by instinct alone-
what fulfills us is self-preservation:
keeping alive not just ourselves, but also our peace of mind,
our justifications, and our fixations.
Some people try to hide behind hate to mask their misunderstanding;
some people retreat into cruelty when their frustrations become too demanding.
The best of us speak only when we have something worthwhile to say,
or when our voice is needed most of all;
the greatest of us act for the benefit of everyone-
giving their last breath for another, no matter the cost-
always going beyond the call.
In the long-run, honesty will always ensure loyalty-
at first, if people don’t like or agree with what has been said,
they may not believe you,
but if you hold-true to what you think and say-
they will always trust you.
In the end, when all is said and done,
if you are wrong, and you know that you are wrong,
there is no shame in voicing your disappointment and letting it show-
because it makes it clear to all that what you believed meant something to you-
and there is no harm, after which, in bowing your head low,
in acceptance, and in remembrance of the great philosopher and orator
that was Cicero.
When we first start making friends,
when we first start meeting others of the same heart and mind;
when we first discover that we are not alone-
that is when we first discover that we are not the only one,
that we are of a kind.
We share so much with each other these days,
so much so that I would say that it is impossible to be anti-social-
unless you live on a dessert island,
absolutely cut-off from the rest of the world,
you will always find someone else who is tuned to the same mutual channel.
I am blessed to have met friends through the gift of technology
that I would consider the best that this world has to offer,
I am blessed to have met best friends,
after finding and learning from them instantly, or over time,
that we share a fascination with all things that reoccur.
I can name friends that I know, but whom I have never met,
and speak their names along with literary giants, inspired musicians,
and great philosophers, and honestly say that, to me,
they are the most inspirational people on the planet-
because they are who they are:
they love, they feel, they get frustrated, they laugh, they cry-
everything about them is real-
they are whom I look to for the truth, for honesty,
for support built of something that is stronger than steel.
My friends are all amazing,
my friends gift me everyday the honour to be able to link my life,
likes, and loves, with theirs-
in every word that we share I read poetry in every reply,
the significance of which you can’t compare.
There is nothing harder to put into words than feelings-
words can sometimes seem distant, hollow, or dream-like,
you cannot truly capture an emotion and convey it in every detail;
but the words of a friend that you trust, who you know,
who you can imagine what they are thinking when they are saying something,
on the road to serenity, never fail.
My friends are mothers, and fathers, sons, and daughters;
hard-working, talented, dreamers, creators, believers,
and no so accidental philosophers.
All of my friends are the reason that I smile when I am alone, or in a crowd-
all of the friendships that I have made
is what makes me feel the most proud.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 