My Poem ‘Big Brother’

Being a big brother comes with lots of responsibilities;
being a big brother means that you have to set
and show a shining-example;
being a big brother means and comes with a promise
to always look out for your little brother or little sister-
whether they are ten years old,
or a beautiful married woman in her thirties;
being a big brother is something that you should never
take for granted if you are one,
because you can be the one person in the entire world
that your sister or brother can come to
when they are feeling down or vulnerable.

I am a big brother;
I am a little brother;
I am not the best brother;
I am a lucky brother;
I sometimes feel like my little sister’s twin-brother,
because we are so different and yet so similar;
I sometimes look and listen to my little sister Clare
and I think that she is the older, wiser,
more courageous, more fearless,
more inspirational of the two of us,
because she is a fighter,
because she is a believer and prime-example
of how being bold, colourful,
and not always being so reserved all the time
can make life much more richer.

My little sister has amazing instincts;
my little sister has a heart of gold
and an ethic to life that I love and admire;
my little sister has a voice, a spirit, a fire,
a purpose, that anybody can see and feel from a distance;
my little sister is the one person in the world
who you would always want by your side,
because she will always be the most supportive
and hard-working heart in a room, even if she is tired.

I am a lucky brother to have a little sister like Clare;
I know that to have an amazing person as your sister
like my sister has always been to me is incredibly rare;
I am always going to be here
and whenever I am needed by my little sister;
I know that I have not always been
and I am not always the perfect brother,
but their is no one more prouder than I
to be my sister Clare’s one and only big brother.

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My Poem ‘Mum’

There are two people in your life
who will always be a part of you every day,
wherever you go, whatever you do-
one of those people is your father, your Dad,
your hero, your strength, the one who will protect you,
defend you, work hard for you all his life;
and the other is your Mother, your Mum,
the first vision of beauty and perfection you ever saw,
and if you are as lucky as me
the kindest, the most caring, the most wonderful,
and the most amazing woman, and role-model,
you will ever be lucky to meet or ever know.

Our parents are the reason we are even alive
and kicking in the first place,
and if it were not for them we would literally
never have been born;
our parents saw our first moment, our first blink,
our first smile, our first adventure into unexplored territory
when we first set out on our own,
even if at first it was merely an exuberant crawl.

Our Mothers always know us better than we know ourselves;
our Mothers always want the best for us;
our Mothers always have an instinct
about what the next thing is going to be to come out of our mouths;
our Mothers always know all the names of the trees in our forest.

The best Mothers in the world would walk over hot coals for their children;
the best Mothers in the world would, and do, sacrifice anything
and everything else for their treasured offspring;
the best Mothers in the world would lay down their life for their child
in front of an oncoming train;
the best Mothers in the world would consider, and do consider,
the life and the happiness of their family their top-priority,
and they embrace every second of being a Mother,
and they love all the joy that honour, privilege, and gift, brings.

My Mum is smart, beautiful, fantastic, and true of heart;
my Mum is vibrant, special, funny, amazing, and unlike anyone;
my Mum is my soul, my friend, my conscience,
and she will be forever as she has been from the start.
My Mum is the greatest Mother, because she is always caring for others
like she always has her entire life,
and I am so lucky to be her son,
and I am the luckiest man in the world
that my Mother is my Mum.

My Poem ‘The Man in the Suit’

The man in the suit is always here,
and is always sitting on the same seat, at the same table-
I always see him typing on his laptop,
and is always quiet and smartly-dressed,
and is never disturbed, and I have never seen him ever
do anything to take notice or to make trouble.
The man in the suit is and has always been a mystery to me-
however, every time I come back here
I can always rely on him being here,
wearing his suit and tie, his shiny-shoes,
and his gold-coloured framed glasses,
and to always be where he is,
doing what he does, typing and engrossed in his computer screen,
and I am not sure if even he realises how long he himself
has been here, nor how many times he comes here,
nor what the time or the day is.
On the other hand, however, it is highly-possible,
and more likely, that the man in the suit
knows exactly what he is doing,
and he, like me, and like most people who come to Starbucks
all the time, he has a story to tell about himself
that I wouldn’t believe-
and I must admit I would give anything to ask the man in the suit
who he is and what he does,
but that is just because I love a question,
and I love a great story,
and I am in awe of someone with a secret
who keeps the rest of the world guessing-
like the best character or protagonist in any great
and compelling story does-
and in all honesty, no matter how much I would love
to know the man in the suit’s secret and who he is,
I would genuinely be happy to never know every thing,
even though knowing everything any way is impossible,
and I would remain happy just seeing him there
where he always sits in the corner by the window
doing his thing and keeping the mystery about him
that has always intrigued me alive and well.
I have only heard the man in the suit speak only once
in one conversation he was having on his red-covered mobile phone-
I remember him having an ‘educated-‘ ‘posh-‘ ‘intellectual-‘
sounding voice and accent, but unfortunately I do not recall
what his phone conversation was about-
but I think it had something to do with the sale of someone’s home.
There are places that I come back to regularly,
because I always feel at-ease here, and there,
inspired, at-peace, refreshed-
where I am even recognized as someone who genuinely loves
being where I am and coming back,
and to me that is the reward of any pursuit.
There are people who you see every day
who make you smile for many different reasons,
and I have to say that I always smile too
when I walk into Starbucks and I look around and I see
the man in the suit.

My Poem ‘Matters’

What matters to you? And why?
Who matters to you?
What makes you feel the most?
Who always makes you cry?

If there were one book in the entire world
that could sum you up, which one would you choose?
Is there one film, one television show, one play,
that your passion and knowledge of says the most about you?

Is there a place that if it were not called what it is
it would have your name written all over it?
Is there a thing of your own making,
something that you had a part in creating,
that is a thing and a word to you
akin to that of magic?
Is there a place that you will always call your home?
Is there a face that will always be your idea
and example of perfection?

Is there someone who could never be cloned?
Is there something that you have seen
that you think a lot about and always stands or sits
within each and every reflection?

What matters to me is what I see,
what matters to me is what I feel,
what matters to me is a person, a look, a lock, a key,
what matters to me is a true secret that will never be revealed;
what matters to me is sharing every second of the human
and living experience,
what matters to me is a question, a road, an iris on and of
the infinite and complex cosmic and meaningful life
that we are all a part of,
what matters to me is what matters to everyone
who is able to use their senses and feel a presence,
what matters to me can’t ever be explained inside or around you
in the ground below or even circling the stars above.

Questioning is not a bad thing.
Answers are not everything.
The prize that is life is something that if you want the most of
you truly have to work for every thing in it
and you have to look up and down and around
while you concentrate on the steps that you take
and the rungs that you climb like those of a long and tall ladder.

Take every step as they come.
Embrace every thing that is unexpected.
Be glad for what you have got, not what you haven’t.
Make the most of everything,
be grateful for all that matters,
because in the end that is all that matters.

My Poem ‘Melissa’

You are my butterfly,
I have been waiting for you my entire life;
you are who I want to be with until the day I die,
I want to be with you forever and one day call you my wife;
your happiness is all that matters,
I promise to give you all that I have;
your heart’s desire are the same as mine,
because you and I are one and the same,
and every day we look back at each other
through a mirror that will never shatter,
and I promise to be there for you always
to hold your hand, look into your beautiful eyes,
and make you laugh.
You brighten my day every morning
and keep me inspired every hour;
I go to sleep every night looking at your gorgeous picture,
and I imagine us together doing everything
and being a part of each other forever;
you keep me coming back for more, like a bubble-bee to a flower;
I am so lucky to be in your life;
you are a golden miracle,
you are a sparkling sun-kissed ocean,
you are a magical and mesmerizing treasure.

I have never met anyone like you,
you are the best thing that has ever happened to me;
I have never felt for anyone like I feel for you,
you are more than words could ever describe,
and I have been unable to control or describe exactly
what I feel when I look at you,
nor could I ever thank you enough for what you do for me every day.
You are so special, you are so invigorating,
you take the beats of my heart to another level,
you are a blessing to the entire world,
and I will always love you,
and I will be there for you like no one ever has,
and fight the fights for you that need fighting.

You and I are the composers of the same song.
You and I are the rhythm of each other’s life,
and we know each other as well as we know ourselves.
You and I are meant to be,
and as we walk together side-by-side
we will never put a foot wrong.
You and I are each other’s life’s blood,
and the air in each other’s lungs,
and the constant reinvigoration of each other’s spirit-
and we are each other’s daily-assured regimen
and source of happiness, and the guaranteed and dependable
magic potion for good luck and good health.

I think about you every second.
You are my everything-
my here, my now, my dream come true, my future.
I am in-awe of you more than any other star I have ever seen,
and your light fills my world more so than the sun.
You are perfect. You always will be all that I want,
and I promise to love forever, my goddess, my princess, my angel,
my Melissa.

My Poem ‘Mr. Poet’

I love sitting down in Starbucks and looking around me,
I love seeing people and hearing people,
I love looking out the window,
I love listening to the song being played
and instantly being inspired to write a poem or two
of my finest poetry, while enjoying a muffin and a coffee.
I love my ritual, I love my habit of drinking a sip or two
of my drink, opening up my notebook, readying my silver pen,
on the empty page before me, looking around,
taking in what I see, and letting out what I am thinking
at that moment, and finding a convergence of parallel energies
and inspirations, and watching them come together before my eyes
and grow into a piece of art I am constantly molding
as if in clay until it becomes something recognizable, and beautiful-
even if what I am trying to say and express at first
is like a wave on the rise, and I absolutely love riding that wave,
I have to say.
I love watching my pen do all the work,
as if it has a mind and a will of its own,
and letting my imagination, mind, heart, and soul, and my breath
be taken away, as my spirit is carried away,
and when that happens to me nothing can stop me,
and no one can get in my way.

This is the life, and it is great to be able to do it if you can do it.
I am lucky to have a lot of time on my hands to connect
with some of my favourite people in the entire world
on a daily basis, and be inspired, and I am inspired
every hour of the day.
The life I am blessed to live and I are definitely a good-fit.
My hunger for knowledge and new thought,
and my awe at seeing dreams become a reality,
and witnessing people being able to do what they love
with who they love, and be happy, is a feeling inside me
that can’t ever be kept at-bay.

I see people connecting all around me, in words, in stares,
in thought, in actions, in ink, in text, in voice,
over the air, on paper, and wirelessly over the internet;
I see people enraptured in conversation in different ways,
and in different forms, and at different speeds-
all caught-up, and balancing, and feeling, and responding,
to all the vibrations that they hear and sense,
like a spider on a web.

Whenever the torrent of inspiration becomes too much,
and swamps me so much, I sometimes find it hard
to stay afloat and see everything that I need to see to keep going;
whenever I need a raft to help me traverse the raging river
that I love to ride and paddle down at full-speed,
or at a leisurely-pace, sometimes,
I only need to look at a photo of my beautiful muse,
and everything becomes clear and comes together,
and I see and I feel every part of the energy inside me,
and that which I take in from the rest of the world
in my blood, and I can’t stop my train of thought,
or my pulse, nor the endorphins in my brain,
from surging and flowing.

My muse is my saviour.
My muse is my heroine.
My muse is so caring,
and I have never met anyone in my life more braver.
My muse is my best friend, and the one who I love
in infinite ways and always,
and who vibrates effortlessly with unbounded love,
appeal, and inspiration, like no one else I have ever seen.
I am inspired every day by everything and everyone,
but without my life, my experiences, my instinct,
my family, my friends, my muse,
I would just be someone of much thought and deep feeling
and emotion who had so much to say
but who had no way of knowing it
or a means or the magic of words to say it.

I am many things to many people,
but first and foremost I am a friend
who is always here for you when you need me,
and I go by many names: Mark, Poet of the Sphere, 1066,
someone on the street who wanted my attention
even called me ‘Heisenberg’,
and I don’t mind being called any of those great names-
but I must admit, I do love it when someone sends me a message
and calls me ‘Mr. Poet’.

My Poem ‘The City’

Every second of every minute,
every hour of every day,
the world turns on its axis,
and having seen the sights of this beautiful city,
having breathed in its air,
having felt every sound invigorate me,
wash over me, and overwhelm me,
it truly feels like this city is not just any city,
its people are not just any people-
it feels like this incredible city, New York City,
is the beating heart of the entire planet,
the centre of the world, the consciousness of reality,
the voice of humanity speaking to the rest of the galaxy.

It’s hard to describe what it feels like
and what you are thinking when you walk the streets and avenues
and you are surrounded by sound, colour, life, love, light,
passion, energy, boundless and breathtaking distance and height-
you find that you are constantly either looking to the distance,
or looking up at the buildings which you cannot see the top of
no matter how hard you try.

Walking through Central Park,
sitting in Central Park, as I am doing now,
on a bench directly facing a statue erected in honour
of William Shakespeare-
hearing, seeing, and feeling the mist of the sprinklers,
inhaling the smell of the grass,
sitting in-awe of the trees that surround me in every direction,
feeling the warmth of the invigorating and glowing golden sunlight,
looking up at the leaves on the trees
unlike any green I have ever seen,
watching people running through the park-
something that people actually love doing,
something that feels so special and unlike being anywhere else-
Central Park, to me, feels like the imagination
of not just the city, or Manhattan,
but also of something greater!
Being here is like a dream, being here is unbelievable,
being here lifts you up, makes you see things,
makes everything clear.

This city has really got under my skin.
This phenomenal, incredible, and beautiful, city
has captured my heart, opened my mind,
gifted me a sense of belonging-
as if I could easily stay here, walk this park every day,
dodge the millions of people on the sidewalks,
wait for the illuminated white figure at the crossings,
ride the subway, meet so many amazing and inspiring people
as I already have and feel like I was meant to be here,
like I was always meant to be here, like I never want to leave-
because that is exactly how I feel when I stop and I think
and I take in every second of peace, serenity, and exhilaration
that being in this city gives me.

This city is a city to be shared.
This city is a city that never stops giving,
and where everything and anything is there for the taking.
This city is a city beyond any expectations
that you could have of a place before you saw it,
and more special than any dream that you could chance to imagine-
to imagine such a place like this before you could see it
with your own eyes, you would not dare.

This city, New York City, means a lot to me.
This city is the place that I cannot wait to return to
again and again, and share every second of its importance,
and revel in its hustle and bustle,
and take-in every inspiring detail as the streets-
the people, its buildings, its life-
makes me feel phenomenal, overwhelmed, and empowered
with the most amazing energy.

This city is somewhere which speaks to me.
This city is somewhere where I feel like I am a part of it,
and it is a part of me.
This city is somewhere I am utterly, tearfully, so sad to leave
because it is somewhere that made dreams come true for me,
gave me experiences, and opened my eyes to another world
of hope, strength, optimism, and prosperity.
This city is always going to be there for me,
and I will always be there for it,
because there is so much for it to show me,
and so much more for me to do, feel, and see.
This city is The City.
There is nowhere else on Earth like New York City.

My Poem ‘Friends for Life’

When I think of all the people that I have met in my life-
face to face, online,
friends who I have known for years,
some who I only knew for a short time-
I get sentimental, I get emotional,
I feel deeply that the people in my life,
the friends that I have made, who I was drawn to
from the second I first saw them, for whatever reason,
are the most amazing people in the entire world-
the most caring, and inspiring, friends, sisters, brothers,
like-minded, insightful, intelligent, incredible, important,
linch-pins that hold others, relationships, close to their heart,
and they are the best of all the thoughts I think,
and they are the sum of all the most amazing memories I have had.
Having a friend is easy,
being a friend is something that should always feel natural;
having that someone who you can talk to about anything
is what everyone wants,
but not everyone has that special person in their life-
so when you do have that person, like I do,
who you love to reconnect with regularly,
you don’t want what you’ve got to go silent, to go stale,
you want to meet them, to go out with them,
like what they like, and stay up talking to them all night,
be there for them always, and be a friend for life.