My Poem ‘Godiva’

Standing up for what is right is a calling;
defending the voices of the minority
is a meaningful and satisfying cause;
being the one to stand before a seemingly overwhelming force
that almost sounds like and can seem as scary
as a lion when it is roaring;
showing all of yourself to prove that you have nothing to fear
is what you have to do sometimes,
even if you have to do it completely naked
riding through a city on the back of a horse.

Everybody has those dreams of themselves
walking around naked;
everybody wishes that they could run around free
like they used to when they were a kid;
as we get older we become more restricted;
as our opinions, hopes, and dreams, change
we want more and more to be protected.

It’s natural to want to surround yourself;
it’s the way of the world to clothe yourself in the fabric
of the time in which you live;
it’s not wrong to sometimes want to walk around in stealth;
it’s comforting to believe and hold close to your heart
the meaning and the message of a myth;
it’s great to stay and return to what makes you smile;
it’s magical to be looking around you and just see stars;
it’s liberating to be the master of your own style;
it’s carnival-like fun and exciting to want to see
and experience all that exists and is waiting to be seen,
that is as thrilling, fascinating, and inspiring,
as the thought of finding water on Mars.

The freedom to be;
the need to see;
the instinct to share;
the thrill to dare;
the simplicity to be basic;
the ease to be happy with what others take for granted
is more hypnotic and enchanting than a magic trick.

Energy never dies.
Stories are retold, and are never over.
The truth is like gold.
You can be who you want to be,
and strip yourself of what you don’t need,
and you too can be a legend and an inspiration for many,
just like the luminary hero of Coventry
who will forever be known as Lady Godiva.

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My Poem ‘The Golden Gunslinger’

On a morning walk down the city high-streets,
passed countless people, passed shops,
stores, restaurants of all names,
I am stopped in my tracks instantly when I see
a Golden Gunslinger reading a book
while sitting at the foot of a tree.
I’m not sure how long he had been there,
I’m not sure what he was thinking,
but when I looked at him looking down at his book,
to me, the gunslinger looked
as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
and it seemed as if to the gunslinger
the rest of the world could carry on their way
because he was lost in thought, in state,
and frozen in time, but like a performer at a carnival,
the gunslinger sat with a tin pot
just to the left of his right boot
asking politely of his generous passer-by
for a token of interest, fascination, respect,
and a thought to show that they care.

I sat in-awe of the gunslinger on a bench nearby,
and I even took a picture-
I felt like I was looking back in time,
or as if the gunslinger had been transported to the future,
to our present-
and as I sat looking at him, the sun shone brightly on him,
and made him glow even more golden,
and he looked even more amazing than he did before,
and even the sky above looked even more blue.
I thought long and hard about approaching the gunslinger
and putting some money in his pot,
and I wondered what he would do if I did-
would he lower his book? Draw his gun and take a shot?

The incredible living-statue of the gunslinger
that mesmerised me, painted head to toe in gold,
in himself was a work of art-
he was so brilliant to behold,
because as soon as I saw him I was instantly transported
back in time to my childhood,
and my fantasies of wanting to be a cowboy.
The Golden Gunslinger was like a living photograph
of a time of adventure and a reminder of the heroes
and out-laws that fill the stories of the Wild West
that once was in America that for so many
still holds a special place in their heart;
The Golden Gunslinger reminded me of how care-free
and amzing it is to a child, or someone who acts on and follows
their instinctual passions-
whether you are a man, or a woman, a girl, or a boy.

As time caught up with me,
even though in all the time I was sitting there looking at
the gunslinger he did not move an inch,
I realised that it was time for me to move on.
I decided to approach the gunslinger and give him a coin
from my pocket to repay him for his time,
his inspiration, his generosity, and his golden spirit,
and even as I got closer and closer
he still didn’t look up or look away from his book
and didn’t for a second flinch;
and then, as soon as my £2 coin hit the rest of the coins
in his golden pot and made a sound,
The Golden Gunslinger suddenly came alive
and he looked up at me-
he lifted his left hand to touch the rim of his Stetson,
he looked right into my eyes, and I saw him smile
without him having to move his lips at all,
and he bowed his head slightly,
and it was in that moment that I smiled too
in appreciation, and I too began to shine as the sun shone.

As I stepped back the gunslinger reverted back
to the pose in which I first saw him,
and he immediately went back to his prefered-posture
of reading his book, at-ease against the base of his tree;
while I turned to my right and continued to walk down the high-street-
I didn’t look back, but I knew and I was so glad to have met him,
to have given him my time, and for him to have given his time to me
and to everyone who saw him, because he reminded me
in lots of ways of myself, and he was obviously someone
of great patience and a deep-thinker.
I promised myself to capture this moment that would never come again
in as much detail and with as much meaning as I could,
and I also promised that I would never forget
The Golden Gunslinger.