You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2013.

As I look out my bedroom window,
as I watch the wind displace the leaves
as it gusts through the branches of the trees
and makes telephone cables
and power-lines sway from side to side with every blow,
as it seems as if every leaf is now well on the way
to changing colour for the season,
I look down to the street below
and I see a little boy riding his bike
on the pavement outside my house
wearing a big coat and a bobble-hat;
and instantly I feel a wave of something come over me,
as if the winds of time were blowing in unison
with the winds of the world outside, and taking me back
to a time, to an autumn day like this one, when I was a kid-
a time when I loved to play outside with my friends,
and my sister Clare,
and play a ‘catch me if you can-type of game’ called “tag”
in which I never minded being the one who was “it”.

I used to love riding my bike;
I used to love exploring the great place where I lived;
I used to love looking out my window
on a dark, rainy night, and being in awe of the sound of thunder,
and energized by the sight of a lightning-strike;
I used to love playing hide and seek-
and I swear no one could ever find me,
nor think of the right place where I was hid.

I had a very happy childhood;
I had everything a child could ever want;
I had so much love bestowed upon me,
and I was taught so many lessons and I learned so many skills
from my Mum and Dad- from appreciating the value
of the smallest of things, and the briefest of moments,
to the importance of hard work,
and knowing the best way to cut wood.

I remember smiling a lot when I was a child,
I remember laughing, creating, watching,
constantly asking questions, and learning from everyone,
I remember times when I used to sit quietly,
I remember times when I used to run wild,
I remember having so much fun.
I remember the good times, and the bad;
I remember the people I knew and who knew me who just suddenly died,
I remember the times when I had to say goodbye.
I remember all the times when I felt so happy
I thought my heart was going to explode;
I remember the tears that came after a fall,
and the times when I didn’t know what was going on,
and I felt sad.

The world has changed.
I have slowly, but surely, grown up.
The home I have known all my life
feels like a picture that is constantly being reframed.
I am outwardly very different from the boy I was-
from my shoe-size, to my likes and dislikes,
to my hair colour, and hair cut.
Inside I am still the same-
I feel and I know that, even now.
Inside I am under no illusion in my belief
that in everything I do, and to everyone I meet, I make a difference;
I don’t always know why, in what way, or how,
but I do feel, and I have always felt,
like everything that I was doing had a purpose and meant something-
even if I was writing a story, or painting a picture,
even as a child I knew that there was so much more to be seen
than could ever be seen, and that no matter the dark clouds
that sometimes swirled around above your head
there would always be something to have hope for,
that there is always a silver-lining to everything,
and that there would one day be a great,
beautiful, and bright future.

Looking at my own reflection in the glass of my window,
as the sun shines on my face,
I look into my own eyes-
the eyes that have seen thousands of sunrises,
the eyes that have seen so much beauty, hope, and inspiration,
in their time, and which have imprinted on them images
that I will take to the grave,
of sights and faces that nothing could ever erase.
I look at my own reflection,
and I see the boy that I was,
and the joy and the hope in his eyes, in my eyes;
I look at my own reflection, and I see the man who I am,
the boy who I am always going to be,
who still lives in the place, the house, the home,
with the memories he treasures,
and will always remember and return to,
in the middle house of three, on Fair field rise.

image

Every time I can, any day I am free,
I like to visit my favourite coffee shop wherever I am,
in whatever town or city I am in,
and sit down, listen to the always great music playing,
take in the ambiance of inside and outside,
maybe even have a Blueberry muffin
in my usual seat, at my usual table, looking out the window,
while enjoying a frothie caramel-drizzled coffee.

I love coming back to my favourite coffee shop,
I love visiting a store I have never been to before,
and because of the inspiration that I imbibe from being here,
and because the atmosphere is always amazing and different every time,
I always stay in to drink and eat-
for me, every time I come to Starbucks, it is never just a short-stop.

I have been to many different coffee shops,
I have been to many different Starbucks in different cities
and towns around the world-
from Birmingham, Solihull, and Coventry, in the UK,
to one or two of the many Starbucks in New York City-
early in the morning for breakfast,
in the afternoon for lunch,
or late at night surrounded by bright lights.
Every experience I have had in Starbucks
has been one that I always remember, and I am always inspired by,
and every time I come to Starbucks
I do feel like something wonderful and new has been awakened in me.

I have been to Starbucks alone,
I have shared deep, meaningful, and phenomenal
states of transcendence and conversation with friends,
I have written poetry after taking a mere sip of a Machiatto,
and feeling like I have been transported to a wonderful,
inspiring, fascinating, connected, inclusive, Wi-Fi, worry-free zone.

I have never wanted to be anywhere else than in Starbucks
on a rainy day like today,
enjoying my favourite caffeine-filled beverage,
looking around, thinking and seeing where my attention will take me,
enjoying every moment, and making the most of every second
of reflection and refraction-
not knowing where my thoughts, where my imagination,
will carry me, nor where it will all end.

In Starbucks you can sit down in a comfy chair,
chat with your friends, laugh, joke, surf the internet,
drink, eat, write a poem, read a book;
in Starbucks you can be anonymous,
you can be anybody, you can say anything, you can feel so much,
you can meet someone you have known for years,
you can meet someone new,
you can realise something you never knew-
because there is no other place that I love coming back to,
than my favourite coffee shop, the place with the deepest of cups,
the one and only, Starbucks.

image

A different place, a different feeling,
a different experience, a different time;
a new place, a new feeling, a new experience,
a new inspiration to inspire the genesis
of a new chapter of a story, the poetry of a new rhyme.

If something isn’t different, it never feels natural;
if something isn’t different, it always feels strangely out of place;
if something isn’t different, it stands out more than a bull;
if something isn’t different, it doesn’t makes as much of an impact,
and doesn’t leave as much of a trace.

You can never say you have seen everything,
because life is constantly surprising and inspiring you;
you can never say that you don’t leave somewhere
with more than you bring-
you learn and you see something everyday you never knew,
and that is something authentically new.

Differences are more amazing to me than a carbon-copy.
Being different is more important to me than anything.
Differences are life in it’s most exquisite form,
and in it’s most phenomenal beauty.
Being different is how you discover the meaning of your own soul-
through self-expression, through impressions,
through art, music, books, and writing.

I love things, and I love people, who stand out from the crowd,
because they aren’t like everybody else, and don’t want to be.
I love things, and I love people, who are awesome
in their individuality and complexity,
who every second give you the gift of a new and wonderful discovery.

I am drawn to things that give me a reason to feel something;
I am attracted to those who give me a reason to look at them,
because they are not just another train passing through a station
passed those standing looking and waiting on a platform;
I am drawn to things that create a reaction,
a vortex, a slipstream, a heat, like a hot spring;
I am attracted to those who emit light and interest
in the world around them-
who fly alone most of the time,
and who feel at home and comfortable
not being one of a swarm.

No two roses are as beautiful.
No two stars shine the same.
No two hearts in love could be more heaven sent.
No two days are ‘as usual’.
No two teams can win the same game.
No two things that are truly special,
though they may look alike,
could be more different.

The artist’s life begins with an obsession,
a need, an instinct, a compulsion to share the inspiration
that has been stirred within them,
and express themselves in any way that they can,
in the way that they feel most comfortable-
for some, that can be with their mouths;
for others, that can be with a paintbrush, or a pen,
or by picking up the pieces of something that is no more
and creating and making something brand new from the rubble.

For me, everything I do, or say,
think about, and express, all revolves around love-
my love, other people’s love, the hope within my heart,
and the goodness that I see and feel in the heart, eyes,
and mind, that is always there,
even when I am looking at a stranger,
or sitting looking out of a window,
while enjoying a hot coffee from a coffee mug.

Nothing is by accident. Everything is by design.
Things said out-loud are seldom what people actually meant.
Things done can never be undone.
Things made can never be unmade.
Things happen as a matter of both neccesity and destiny,
as well as happening as a matter of time.

A musician hears a melody in a cacophony of chaos;
a poet reads, sees, and feels, an epic, a sonnet, a masterpiece,
in the interconnections that they witness all around;
a painter, a sculpture, sees what they want to show
before their first brush-stroke,
before the first chip of the hammer and chisel,
before the first colour wash;
a carpenter can feel what they are making in the wood,
and they respond to every texture that they feel-
they know what they must do simply from a sound.
Every artist is affected by everything-
from the golden light of a beautiful sunset,
to the vibration that is caused and felt
by even a single drop of rain on the ground.

An artist wakes up every morning
and instantly creates something,
and they continue to do this every hour of the day,
even if it is only with a thought-
from morning to midday, from noon to night;
that is what keeps an artist going,
that is what keeps an artist breathing,
that is what keeps an artist searching,
that is everything that an artist wants
from an artist’s life.

image

Just above the horizon,
just above the trees and the buildings nearby-
streaking and shining beautifully
among the strange and amazing clouds
and the beautiful and amazing blue sky,
like the trail of some magical gift
that had come to Earth from the heavens,
or from some other world,
some other reality of colour, energy, and light-
a rainbow, a beautiful and wonderful reflection and echo
of cosmic and divine light, stops everyone in their tracks
and in their conversations, and makes everybody look up
to see it and marvel at how unbelievable, special, stunning,
and fortuitous it is to see such a sight.

Whenever I see a rainbow, I always make a wish.
I believe that whenever you see something so beautiful
and wonderful as a rainbow is to me-
which because of its uniqueness, randomness,
momentousness, rarity, brilliance, and beauty
can only be a sign of something significant, powerful,
and important taking place somewhere at that exact moment
that is undeniable to those that it is happening to,
but unfortunately is something that the rest of the world
must sadly miss.

A rainbow to me is more than a simple reflection of light
captured in the air like the negative
of some other-worldly photograph;
to me, a rainbow is a Mark of an important thing
that is going to happen to you,
or something that already has;
to me, a rainbow is an omen of a bright future,
and a universal approval of something that is on your mind,
but which you want to move on from and consider the past.

I believe there are signs everywhere.
I believe the universe shines a light
and guides us at times when we need to see something
we really need to see, or to realize,
and truly know something we really need to know.
I believe if something is meant to be seen and felt,
you will see it and feel it at the right time for you,
when you have arrived at the perfect time and place,
and you feel content and happy to be then and there.
I believe if you want to know if you have come
to a point in your life that will mean something to you,
and will inform, and set out the road, and the path,
and the course for the rest of your life,
you only have to look around, and you can truly be certain
with all your heart, if you are lucky enough
to look up at the sky and see a rainbow.

The Rainbow

Standing, growing, and swaying in the breeze,
alone but seemingly content in a beautiful green oasis
at the centre of a big city-
a wildflower, a violet and white, beautiful and amazing
perfect product of nature has me transfixed and completely at-ease.

Others walk on by and do not appear to take notice;
I, however, cannot look away if I tried-
I take in a breath, I look again at the beautiful flower before me,
I close my eyes, and I make a make a silent wish.

When I open my eyes again I see a noticeable flash of light
that overwhelms my vision for a few seconds,
and intensifies the colour of everything around me-
when I now look at the incredible wildflower,
and the green grass around it,
every petal, every blade of grass, appeared to be glowing
and vibrating, and the path beneath me looked as if it
and the grass were the same and connected
like the overlapping waves of a tumultuous sea;
but the flower, it was something else,
it looked like something else,
it felt like something else-
it radiated and glowed like a fire,
like it was actually burning and sending out
noticeable distortions around it like a stone being dropped
over and over into a pond,
or like the sparks that flash at the end of a live wire.

I felt like I wanted to reach out and touch it,
to see if it was real, or imaginary, for some reason-
the air had gone cold, the leaves would soon be turning brown
and falling from the trees,
but this flower felt like as if it were not bound
by such metamorphosis in appearance,
nor in the change of the season.

The wildflower just was,
and as each second that I stared at it passed,
it made me think and feel like the way seeing and hearing
the launch, the flash, and the bang of a firework does-
and I must admit to giving out a gasp
when I was struck by an insight and a vision
that felt like a bomb-blast.

When my sight returned to normal;
when the colour around me faded as the world seemed to reset itself
to the way it looked before I arrived and sat down here
where I was, which could have been closer to a week for all I knew,
rather than a day, or even an hour;
when I stood up, and stared down,
I could still see the after-glow of what I had seen,
I could still feel its pull.
When I walked away, in the corner of my eye,
I looked and I saw something that I hadn’t seen before:
growing behind, and in-line with the one I had seen,
and been amazed so much by, I was literally in shock
at the sight of a second unseen wildflower-
why I had not seen it until now I did not know,
but what it meant to me, and the message it was relaying to me,
could not have been more clearer.

Wildflower

The rush is like no other,
the energy that I feel is more amazing and phenomenal
than that of an exploding star,
the sparkle in your eyes is brighter than the sun
and is incapable of being covered.
The love that I feel for you is sacred and incredible,
and I know that you will always have the key to my heart.

I have been addicted to you since the moment I met you,
I have been enveloped in an endless wave of awe
since I first saw your stunning and gorgeous face,
I have been awoken every morning since we first met
by a sense, a belief, a feeling of being brand new,
I have been encouraged and enlivened with hope
about not only my future but of your phenomenal future as well-
a future without any limits to what you will do and achieve,
because your potential is as breathtaking and boundless,
and glittering as outer space.

I know who you are, I know how gifted you are,
and how important the happiness of others,
especially your family means to you,
and I have to say that what you do and make happen
in the hearts of others truly takes my breath away.
Knowing you and being there every day for each other
means more to me than I can say;
knowing and imagining the future that awaits us both
as integral pieces of the puzzle of each other’s lives,
and other peoples lives, and as constant and everlasting
best friends and soul mates,
I know can only be seen through our eyes,
and can only be felt by us alone
at the beginning and at the end of every single day.

You are the most terrific, inspiring, and amazing person
I have ever met, and your enthusiasm and strength
and determination is so infectious and wonderful
and you make me feel full of optimism and promise
of unlimited possibilities,
and your presence feels more unbelievable, comforting,
natural, and heart-felt than the longest
and the most amazing hug-
I truly cannot get enough of you.
I need you, I love you.
I am a better person for being blessed with the gift of you.
I have never felt this great in my entire life,
and I will never forget the effect of you,
nor where the thoughts that I have of you take me,
which always keep me on a high,
because you are my drug.

Photobucket

Archives

Twitter Updates

Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Poetographic

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: