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The day had been planned for for months;
the moment had been imagined and re-imagined
over and over over in my head;
the thought about what I would say gave me goose-bumps;
the alignment of all the stars that had to happen
to bring about a meeting of minds, lives, books, authors,
still makes me feel like a kid at Christmas again;
the anticipation, the journey,
the waiting in-line outside the grand Waterstones bookstore
in Birmingham with my friend,
is something that I will always remember,
and it will always be special to me-
I remember bringing more than one book to get signed
by one of my favourite authors,
but just the thought of what I was doing
and who I was doing it with,
and the memory and experience that I was sharing
was what truly made me happy.

Being a writer can sometimes be a solitary endeavour,
and by its nature writing must be a personal act
that only you can do alone;
being a writer can sometimes feel like you are a traveler
off on an adventure,
and the only person who can truly understand what its like,
what it means, and what you can do,
is another writer who is on their own journey-
while sitting in a coffee shop surrounded by sound,
or a writer in their own space,
writing feverishly on their computer or in their notebook,
in the comfort and solitude of their home.

What I loved about waiting in-line for so long
was that I got to listen and notice people around me,
who were just like me,
and who were just as excited about coming face to face
with someone who made them imagine, think, feel,
something, and share something with someone else-
that is exactly what happened with me:
I read something, I was touched by something,
I was gifted an amazing story,
because of a phenomenal and magical writer,
and I instantly felt the need to share it-
as if I were under a spell.

When my friend and I reached the top of the windy stairs,
and finally came eye to eye with the author
that we had both been looking forward to meeting,
I honestly felt like the author, myself, and my friend,
were the only people in the bookstore,
at the book signing event,
and that everyone had suddenly, magically, left;
it was amazing looking down at my favourite writer,
talking to him about how I loved his writing
and the inspirational commencement speech
that he gave a few years ago
which made me too go off on my own creative quest-
however, the truly amazing and the most epic thing ever
was when I took out my own book that I had signed for him
and I handed it to him as I told him that I too was an author,
and to this day I still remember what a thrill,
and what an honour, it was when my favourite author
accepted my own gift and then extended his hand to me,
and in that infinite and fantastic moment
I felt a connection and a transference of knowledge and wonder,
and storytelling magic, from one author to another.

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Hi, everyone! 🙂

If you have been reading my poems, and visiting my site, regurlarly,
or perhaps if you are a new reader, and a new visitor here,
I am sure that you will have already figured out that I am a very
passionate, intense (sometimes), inspired, imaginative,
deep-feeling, hopeful, optimistic, lover of the written word
and of the power of imagination and dreams-
and I am here to say that dreams do come true,
and I know they do because they have come true for me
on more than one occasion,
and there is no greater example and gift that I can present to you
as proof of dreams and the importance of following your passion
and doing everything to make your dreams come true no matter what,
than my book ‘Poet of the Sphere’ and my new book ‘The Sound of Mark’,
which are availible to buy right now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and The Book Depository!

My first book ‘Poet of the Sphere’ was a miracle and dream come true,
on so many levels, and I will forever be in awe of it,
and hold it close to my heart;
my new book ‘The Sound of Mark’, that was published just a few days ago,
is a reminder and torch of hope for me, and I hope for a lot of people,
for me and everyone to take a hold of, look at, and do with it what they may.
My poetry means something to me, because my poetry is literally my life:
my feelings, my thoughts, my interests, my observations,
my hopes, my dreams, my heroes, my fears, my friends, my loves,
my world- my poetry is very personal to me,
and my poems are better read and understood, I would guess,
as diary or journal entries written by me about what is happening
and about who I am at a particular, fleeting, precious,
moment in time that will never come again,
and that is how I believe each and every one of us should think about
our lives and about life itself-
because you only have one life, and you only have a short window of opportunity
to be who you are, and who you want to be,
and to live like their is no tomorrow.

‘The Sound of Mark’ is me, it is a journey, it is my journey;
however, when you read it, if you read it,
think of yourself as me and give yourself to the words that you read,
and relive my journey with me, and allow my poetry to inspire you, hopefully,
to go off and be the adventurer and writer of your own journey,
and be the best person that you can be!

I hope you will buy, like, and enjoy my new book!
Every poem in the book can be found on my site already,
but when read as a book and as a story in book-form
every poem is like a key to a door within a house of over a hundred rooms,
and as you go from room to room, and from poem to poem,
you will discover something about me,
and perhaps something about yourself! 🙂

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The paperback and Kindle version of ‘The Sound of Mark’
is available online @ Amazon.com: http://amzn.com/1938082036
@ Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1938082036
@ Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/ZtqWMM
@ The Book Depository: http://bit.ly/1r5ctB2

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-Mark

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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Today is my birthday.
Well, in actual fact, today, right now it is not my birthday,
my birthday is two days away;
however, the next time that someone reads this poem
will be on the day of my birthday,
and the next person to read it will be you,
and if you are reading this you probably already know me,
but if you don’t know me I would just like to say hello
and thank you for finding me.
To everyone, I just want to say that the last 33 years-
all the years, all the months, all the days-
have been more amazing and more epic than I could ever truly describe,
and you who have been with me, and who have followed me along the way,
have been fantastic and amazing,
and I would not be me if it was not for you.

What a life! What a world!
What a ride it has been!
What has happened to me throughout my life
has been more than words could ever describe,
ever since I was a boy and my hair was curled.

Am I who I thought I would be when I reached the age of 33?
Did I think what happened would ever of happened to little old me?
Someone once told me that “life was better than a dream,
because everything that happens to us while we are awake is tangible and real”;
but then again, there is a favourite quote from a favourite book of mine
that I love that says something along the lines of “life is but a dream”.
To me, dreams are the place where great and epic ideas happen
and where we all break a timeless seal,
and life is where we take those ideas and thoughts
and run with them, and ride there currents
like a fast-moving stream.

What I have seen;
what I have learned;
who I have met face to face, and in my dreams,
who I have have been saved by when it looked as if
all my bridges were going to be burned,
has given me everything anyone could ever want and dream of,
and what has not yet happened will either take the form of a figurative
black crow, or a white dove.

My life has changed so much, and it is about to change again;
my life is constantly changing shape, changing colour,
changing feel, changing speed, and that is why sometimes
I have to stop, take a breath, and count to ten.
My life, like the universe, like my mind, like my heart,
is always on the move, and never rests
even when I am lying asleep in bed;
my life, and me, has been dark and black,
light and white, and my life and I is there for all the world to see,
when I write the poetry of my life, and it is read.

I have probably said this a billion times in my life already,
but I swear that there is never a day that goes by
when life does not inspire, amaze, and surprise me-
every day I learn something new,
I see someone I have never seen before,
and if I am lucky my entire life is changed forever
in ways that not even I have the gift
to be able to describe and encapsulate in poetry.

Every day I am struck by a revelation about life,
the world, the universe, that electrifies me like a bolt of lightning,
and which fulfills a prophecy that I have had, seen, felt,
believed was one day going to come true,
and there are some days when my world feels like
it has been turned upside down-
but in a brilliant, magical, wonderful, way
that is unparalleled by anything else,
that goes beyond surprising,
and is incredibly exciting, and not for a second frightening-
which is incredibly enlightening, empowering, igniting,
like a spark, like a fuse-
which makes me feel like I am daily, hourly,
rocketing to the moon.

There are moments in every day, in every experience,
in every conversation with someone,
in every moment of noise, in every period of silence,
in every time of solitude, when I am touched by something
that takes my breath away, and literally makes me go WOW!
The things I see, the things I hear,
make me sometimes shed a silent tear
at living the life I live and being the person
that some people can only be when they are dreaming.

There is a reason for everything that happens;
there is a path, a plan, for us all;
there is something unexplainable and infinite
that makes life, and us all who we are,
and in the end everything that we see and feel
is like a sculpture, or a castle, on a beach
made entirely of sand;
there is a message being constantly broadcast to us
for us to read, interpret, and reply to in our own way
like answering a phone-call.

Nothing is accidental,
everything is a part of something more than at first it might appear;
having a feeling a connection with someone is natural;
you have to act on your instincts when what you feel
with every fibre of your being comes to you loud and clear.

Every day I have Original Moments of Great importance and significance;
every day I have Occurrences of Mystic Gloriousness;
every day I have Outstanding, Marvelous, Gifts
given to me- like a knighthood presented to someone
by a king or a prince;
every day I stop, I take a step back, in wonder and in-awe,
and out-loud people hear me say:
Oh My God, or Oh My Goodness.

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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.

A picture to remember us by,
a photo to look back on
and relive the happy memory
of a shared experience and a shared time;
a shell from the beach where two people used to walk
hand in hand and barefoot in the soft wet sand;
a ticket stub from a trip to the cinema you took with someone
to see a great film late at night;
an old receipt from your favourite restaurant,
a birthday card, a letter, a message-
a tangible memento that you can still feel
and still remember when and where and why and with whom
this meaningful and special thing to you
became a memento to you, and became so important to you
because of its connection with that someone that effected you
and always will, or because it just reminds you of the days
when you and your life were in their prime,
and everything felt perfect and right.

When times get bad,
when the waves of the sea of reality get rough,
when instead of looking forward you want to look back,
when you want to appreciate something in all it’s greatness,
when you want to remember the instant when you first fell in love,
when you want to go for a walk in the park of a relationship
when things were at their best,
when you are stuck inside on a rainy,
it’s good to take out and look at things-
things that may be spread all over your house
in places where you can constantly look to and know they are there,
things you always carry around with you in your pocket,
or things that you have collected together in a scrapbook for yourself
to look at and remember-
and that is why it is so important to keep what you can,
and don’t throw everything away.

I think photo-albums are amazing;
I think keeping a diary or writing in a journal is a fantastic thing to do,
and I think it is a brilliant way to record days, events,
and recollections of moments in your life;
I think a scrapbook is the best thing to start with a child
when they are just beginning to understand why certain things
and certain times mean more to us than others,
and why certain people constantly pop-up in the memories we have
and we return to, because it teaches them early-on,
and will remind them every time and always,
why we replay and know all the lyrics to the songs we remember and sing,
and that everyone can live on, as can we, after we die.

It’s sometimes only when we are alone
and looking for some reassurance about something
that we choose to look, re-read, remember, recall,
where something in our possession originated from
and who gave it to us-
it could be a faded photo;
it could be a worn-out piece of paper
with someone’s unique handwriting on it;
a t-shirt that you refuse to wash
because it still has someone’s smell on it;
it could be a precious, special, memory,
from which there are no souvenirs, or photos,
or anything that you can ever hold in your hand,
because it was so brief, instantaneous,
and because you simply did just have to be there to understand
the true meaning of the moment-
they are the very best, and they are the incredible,
and irreplaceable, mementos.

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Today is the last day of the year;
today is day 365;
today is the last day I will be and feel this way,
but it’s ok- I know this is how it has to be, so there is no fear;
today is still my day to shine like a star,
live and feel alive.

This last year has been indescribable.
These last 12 months, these last 52 weeks,
have been incredible-
some of the best days, hours, minutes,
and moments of my life;
but there are memories that I never want to revisit,
there are feelings I don’t want to remember,
and I must say that admitting that does make me feel awful-
because to me memories and experiences have always been precious,
and gifts that I hold on to and look at every day,
and never take for granted or throw away.

I am fortunate to be able to go back and read where I was,
what I was thinking, what I was feeling, on a particular day,
because I write and record my life for everyone and anyone
to read, and describe who I am at a specific moment in time,
encapsulated within a photo, a poem, an insight, or a rhyme;
I am thankful to have the life I have-
to be able to have a heart and feel the energy of love
burning in my chest, and to be able to feel
the intense pain of heart-break.
I feel pity for the people who have hurt me.
I feel happy, and I wish the best for the people
who have been so giving to me in infinite ways,
and every day give me my daily muse and inspiration,
who are amazing, my friends-
the hopeful, the great, the kind.

Looking over my shoulder at the year that has gone by,
I want to smile, I want to laugh, I want to sing,
I want to close my eyes, I want to remember,
I want to forget, I want to cry.
Looking back and remembering all that has happened to me,
it feels like an entire life-time happened before my eyes,
as if it all happened within a flash of light,
or the blink of an eye-
I went to places and I met people that I will never forget,
and I never want to;
I travelled forward and backwards in time,
but even though for a while there I forgot my daily mantra,
and stopped believing in my own philosophy,
I am now in no confusion that everything happens for a reason,
and all that goes around and makes us who we are
is just a matter of time.

The most important thing to know and never forget
is to never give up, no matter who makes you believe
that you are wrong to believe everything
will turn out fine in the end-
the most important person to believe in is yourself,
because you are who you have to focus on first,
because you are you first and your last friend.

This year has been the year from heaven,
and the year from hell.
This year has taught me and showed me over and over again
that we are meant to do things and meet people,
because they are the vital stitches and fabric
of our patchwork destiny,
and the dreams that come true when we make a wish
and throw our hopes into life’s wishing well.

2013 was a good year, and it was a bad year;
to be honest, 2013 was a bit of everything-
it was unlike no other year I have ever lived in my entire life;
2013 was sad, wonderful, enlightening, exciting, intense-
there were experiences that I had which still make me smile even now,
when I have never felt more content,
and there were times when it felt like I had been stabbed in the chest
by a knife.

But it is ok. Everything is good.
My year was filled with death, mourning, deep thought, contemplation,
new friends, new inspiration, new and fantastic adventures,
new horizons, new life, new love;
and I have hope and I already know that 2014 is going to be the year
I have been waiting for all my life,
and I look forward to seeing, showing, and sharing my life
with you who are reading this,
because there are so many people that I look forward to meeting,
and there are so many things and places that I am dying to see,
where I can’t wait to return to, and where I have never been.
2014 can’t come soon enough.
So I welcome 2014 with open arms,
and I say goodbye with a wave to 2013.

Happy New Year! 🙂

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There is no greater thing to give,
and there is no greater thing to receive,
there is no greater expression
that you are thinking of someone, than a card-
especially this time of the year;
to me, there is something special,
more so than any gift or present of any size,
about the knowledge that people are in each other’s thoughts
no matter where they live, nor the reality that they don’t talk
or see each other as much as they used to anymore;
to me, knowing that I have picked and written in a card for someone,
and that someone has picked and written in a card especially for me,
means something to me, and because I am who I am
I read light-years into every word, and I pay especial focus and attention
to the ever-present poetry.

I love taking the time to make a card.
I love sitting down while thinking about the person I am writing to,
and letting my feelings and emotions flow from me
and become imbued in the ink that I am writing in.
I love having the gift to be able to express so easily
what others sometimes find hard.
I love retracing my own footprints
and reuniting with old memories of friends and family
at special moments of our shared lives together,
and remembering and reliving those things we have seen,
and returning to the place where we have been.

There is a card for every occasion.
There is a card for everyone.
There is a card to be made in everyone’s imagination.
There is a card to be created that can be a simple sentence
and sentiment that even though it may only be short
can be what you really want to say in a way
that is the culmination of elation, affection, explanation,
and liberation, that needs no translation.

Messages are precious. Time is finite.
What we say sometimes is fast, frenetic,
unforgettable, and often times in a rush.
How we spend our days and hours is often split and divided
between different relationships with very different people that we know,
and it is sometimes hard to know where you are
until you turn out the light at night.

To me, a card- a birthday card, a Christmas card,
a postcard, a get well card, an anniversary card-
is a great and a wonderful thing,
because it is an opportunity, a place, a way,
a method, and a means, that is more special and means more
than a text message, an email, or a phone call-
for some that is the only way they have to reach out
and make contact with someone,
and those messages and calls mean the world,
and being able to share something, anything,
from one person to another is so incredible.

The right card to send someone and the right thing to write inside
can take a lot of thought, but it shouldn’t have to be a science
and it doesn’t have to be a masterpiece of art.
The right message and remark does not have to be the most amazing
and poetic declaration ever written, or ever said-
as long as what you really want to communicate is there for anyone
and all to see and read by anybody who sends, receives,
opens, writes, and reads, something in a card.

I have been thinking a lot about New York recently,
actually I haven’t stopped thinking about
the city of my dreams since I left.
I still remember the taxi ride that I took to the airport
when I knew I was leaving, and actually becoming teary-eyed,
and incredibly sad to leave-
I felt like I was leaving a part of me behind,
I felt lost, I felt bereft.

As I watched the skyscrapers disappear in the distance over my shoulder,
I remembered every extraordinary moment that I had
in the best city and my favourite city in the world;
I remembered the friends that I had met for the first time,
who I cannot wait to meet again;
I remembered the places that I visited,
and even now can still remember every detail of every moment-
from the faces that I saw, to the sounds and the noises
and the voices that I heard-
I still feel I am reliving every overwhelming and inspiring moment,
as if I can easily jump backwards and forwards in time
from the now to the then, and back again.

Being in New York City was one of the best times of my life.
While I was there my entire destiny came into focus,
and I realized where I was and where I wanted to be.
Being in New York City, feeling the energy of everything
and everybody inside of me made it possible for the first time
to connect me to a higher knowledge of purpose,
and I felt unbelievable wherever I was-
whether I was standing in Times Square being bathed in colour
by the giant screens or the flashing lights,
or standing at the top of one of the tallest buildings in the world-
and I even remember closing my eyes and reaching above me,
as if I could literally touch the sky.

I can still remember the smiling face of my friend,
the fantastic street-performer Natalia Paruz
playing her musical saw in the subway,
I can still feel the elation that I felt every second
I was standing in front of her hearing her completely hypnotized
and in-awe of her, watching her, talking to her,
telling her how I couldn’t wait to come back to New York
even though I hadn’t yet left, seeing her again,
maybe even collaborating with her someday,
and being a part of her music that truly moves me like no other,
and of course hear her and watch her play.

I can still remember standing in Grand Central Station,
being surrounded by what seemed like thousands of people
all in transition to somewhere else;
I can still remember waiting for my amazing and awesome friend Kyle
to arrive and for us to share a meal and a meet-up together
that was epic on every level,
and added on an extra level of magic to my time there-
and the Umami burger that we had was to die for, I can tell you,
and it tasted like nothing else.

I feel like I am still sitting in Central Park sometimes,
on my favourite bench in the shadow of a statue of William Shakespeare,
in the incredible and beautiful golden light of the early morning sun-
every morning at seven I would wake up, get dressed,
walk out of my hotel, go to my favourite coffee shop, Starbucks,
and then walk through Central Park,
and then just sit there and take in everything that I saw, heard, and felt,
and feel like I left my own impression there, my own shadow there
for me to one day return to and find and relive again the incredible experience
that it is to be a part of the place that makes your heart beat like a drum.

I don’t want to forget anything that happened while I was in New York City.
I don’t want to replace the memories that I made there,
and I don’t want to forget the joy that I felt taking every step
down every avenue and street on every sidewalk.
I want to go back as soon as I can.
I want to go there and share everything that I know
and will always love about this city,
and what it will always mean to me.
I want to go to the crown of the Statue of Liberty,
look back at the city, and stare, and say out-loud
the thing that I have been repeating in my mind and in my heart
from the second I left and longed to return:
and that is that I love this city so much,
I love my New York.

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