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You are my eternal Summer;
you are my beautiful, hopeful,
mutual, truthful, jewel,
and spiritual light of inspiration,
my endless days of wonder;
you are my princess atop of a high tower;
you are a promise of a beautiful tomorrow,
who I think of as a mesmerizing, glowing,
complex, gorgeous, and stunning sunflower.
You make my dreams into words;
you make my words into reality;
you make a song that is more beautiful to listen to
than that of a birds;
you make things feel as they should,
like I alone never could;
you make me happy.
You hear a song;
you listen to my song;
you sing along;
you see the right where others see the wrong.
You feel heat and you run with it;
you get a thought in your head
and your mind and imagination goes supersonic;
you can do a thousand things from anywhere that you sit;
you take me to a place every day
that feels like somewhere limitless and cosmic.
Love like this cannot happen with a wish;
a connection like ours doesn’t just happen;
a meeting of two hearts and two souls to become one
is like the synchronicity that the Earth has with the sun;
feeling like you have found your soul-mate is worth the wait;
everything begins again, everything is brand new,
everything is certain, everything always comes back,
and is about me and you.
I could talk for hours about how much you mean to me;
I could listen to you talk all day long;
I could write a thousand poems and a million words of poetry;
I could talk about what I love about you
and about how much I love you
for a week with my voice still full of passion
at describing you, and still going strong.
When destiny bought us together for the first time,
when I saw the rest of the world flash by me
like the shooting-stars of a meteor shower,
when I knew my heart was no longer just mine,
I had a revelation of heaven,
I saw the face of the divine,
I saw you smiling back at me,
beaming, luminous, rapturous,
and as breath-taking as a sunflower.
When you are in your own world
and you need a little ‘pick me up’
there is no more powerful motivator
and instigator and reason to nod your head,
to tap your foot, and move your body to the beat,
to the music, and to the words of a great song,
your favourite song, your happy song,
and you can always tell when someone has found that song
and is listening to it and is being controlled by it
every time with the sight of a smile
and the feeling that you get from a look.
Whether in a club, or in a pub,
in a cafe, or while taking part in a game that you play-
that one song can be like nothing else on Earth,
and can truly sing and speak to your heart;
that one song can get you through a bad time in your life,
and can touch you deeply,
because its meaning and importance is so sharp.
That one song can make you smile;
that one song can make you cry;
that one song can make you keep pressing redial;
that one song can take you higher than high.
That one song can take your breath away;
that one song can make you shout;
that one song you can be singing to yourself all day;
that one song can make you melt.
There are songs that are special and unique for a reason;
there are songs that are constantly played and replayed
until they literally become a part of the public consciousness;
there are songs that are for a life-time and not just for a season;
there are songs that are better than all the rest.
There are songs that get you through a grueling work day;
there are songs that help you to drift off to sleep;
there are songs that carry you all the way;
there are songs that you will always love,
and the lyrics of which you will always keep.
Music is a phenomenal gift that should never be taken for granted;
music can be your passion, your love, your salvation,
your place to go to when something is wrong.
That one song, that one piece of music can be poetry to the ears,
to the mind, and to all of your senses,
and its place in your life can grow like a tree
that begins its life the very second
that it is touched by that first drop of water
at almost the instant after it is planted-
and that is why every song, especially our favourite songs,
should be cherished and remembered,
and that way they will forever be our song.
I have never been able to hide my feelings,
I have never been successful in disguising my emotions,
I have never been able to figure out
how not to have everything I am thinking
written all over my face,
I have never been good at realising who and what
it is people observe about me in what they are seeing,
I have never been able to wear a mask of my own face,
because my expressions are apparently so blatant
they change more frequently and are more noticeable
than waves of an ocean,
I have never been eye to eye with someone
and worn an expression that was the opposite
of what I was feeling on the inside-
like the winner of a card game,
who is able to bluff better than anyone else
because they have the greater poker face.
I am a very open person in some ways,
but not in every way;
however, my face paints a picture of my thoughts
and contorts like no one else;
I do not reveal every detail of my heart,
but when it comes to sharing as much of me as possible
via involuntarily manifested external emotions,
I am as transparent as a cell.
Being so noticeable and open has got me into a lot of trouble
and has allowed people to read me whenever they want to like a book-
people have told me that they know exactly what I am thinking
from seeing my reaction to something they said with a single look.
When I am sad, everyone knows.
When I am happy, I let it show.
When I am thinking about something,
it is as if others can see the hemispheres of my brain sparking.
When I am angry, people can see in me
that I am ready to strike and burst with energy
of the power and the electricity of a bolt of lightning.
Everything about me is plain to see.
Everything that I think about is as deep and as vast as outer space.
Everything about what is on my mind,
I am sure people can read and have read
without me having to say a word or write a single line of poetry.
Everything that you want to know is there every second
and written all over my face.
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.
When we are born there is a bond;
when we first open our eyes to the light
our vision is overwhelmed for a short-time,
because its brilliance is too bright;
when we cry our first tears
we know nothing of confusion, pain, anxiety, and fears;
when we take our first steps and we fall and sometimes trip,
it doesn’t stop us from putting our toe in the water of the unknown
and wonderful, and taking a deep dip.
When we need someone, we always turn first to the person
we can always rely on;
when we need a hand to hold, we always want to touch
the person who would wrap their arms around us
and give us their coat in a heart-beat if we were cold;
when we are given a gift that comes genuinely from someone’s heart,
we know that we will always have a light to shine on us
and guide us in the dark.
When we take something or someone for granted,
life will sometimes give you a hint that you are lucky
to have what and whom you have in your life,
and when you realise, things may seem a little frantic;
when we accept why life is what it is
and that everything happens for a reason,
we know all that we ever need to know,
and as long as we remember that fact, we can understand
why the Earth and the planets revolve around the sun,
and why there must always be a change of season.
When we truly and wholeheartedly embrace
what is of great importance,
the world becomes simple to us,
and the steps that we need to take are as easy to learn as a dance;
when we have faith in our friends and in our family,
we give the greatest gift or present of them all,
and by having that belief in you by someone is phenomenal
and life-changing, beyond measure,
and you are an embodiment of that truth,
and you always will be.
Every second we have to be connected to our life-line;
every minute we are awake we are thinking about the people
who fill our lives, and whose place in our heart
will always be hard to beat;
every hour we want what makes us happy all the time;
every day we stay in the know and on the move
no matter what we are doing-
whether we are lying in bed, or sitting down at work,
or making our way through the world with out own two feet.
Our online identities tie us all in to the cloud
of instant connectivity with everyone else
who has a mobile device- which in this day and age
is pretty-much everyone;
our email addresses are our key to virtual doors,
our technology obsession is an evolutionary step forward,
but also a calling-card of something similar
in our collective history that has happened before.
Instant access,
instant communication,
instant happiness,
instant messages of the population of our connected,
biological, and technological,
electronic, and frenetic, world,
light our lives, brighten our faces,
make us feel reassured.
An instant stage gives us all an audience,
to whom we can say what is on our minds,
show what is right in front of us,
and we can literally write our own instantly,
living, and constantly-changing autobiography-
like a writer writes their words so easily on a page.
Our technology has become our best friend.
Our mobile phones, our laptops, our tablets,
our music players, our media viewers,
are our mobile lives, our mobile homes,
our morning, midday, and twilight zones.
The first thing we reach for every morning
has changed over time and will change again,
but our accessories of connectivity and belonging
will always be there now and forever
in the form of our multi-faceted, multi-personalized,
multi-coloured, extensions of ourselves-
which has become for us all our nexus.
There is no sound,
there is nothing to be heard;
there is a couple sitting at the next table from me
in the cafe I am in
talking completely and fully without words,
and the beauty of their silent conversation,
even though I do not mean to pry in any way,
has me not only lost for words
but also lost in thought,
and I can feel my heart start to pound.
I can’t hear a word that they are saying to each other,
but I know that that is because their voice
is not meant to be heard by me-
they could be saying anything to each other-
but what I do know, just from observing the looks
that they are giving each other,
is that this couple is in love;
I recognize and I have seen this unmistakable,
silent, and mutual, connection of spirit
in myself and in others a thousand times,
and it never fails to read, at least to me,
like the most beautiful, natural, and special, poetry.
The eye-contact, lip-movements, and hand-gestures and signs,
they are making is entrancing,
the way they are so compelled and in-awe of each other
and do not need or want the attenton of anyone else
in the entire world is mesmerising-
I am not afraid of confessing.
I wanted to be a part of their conversation,
but I also, secretly, did find it cool that I and everyone
was an outsider because we couldn’t understand their code
and are not meant to.
I must admit I did smile at the thought of them
having so much privacy, and the gift of one to one communication
without the potential of being evesdropped on.
They looked like they only had time
and only had eyes for each other,
and that truly touched my heart and made me happy-
the joy they were feeling about talking to each other,
sitting facing each other, of one mind and intent,
was noticeable, palpable, and wonderful to see.
Communication on every level of society and by every means
all around the world in a million different ways
has always fascinated me,
and the gift of being able to reach out to someone,
especially someone that you love, in some way, in any way,
no matter who you are or how it is done
never ceases to fascinate me.
The couple that I was watching had their own language,
their own code of communication that even I could see,
surpassed the language they had been taught
to share what they want to say;
and it occurred to me after I left the cafe
that they have a code, everyone has a code,
and even I have mine-
my language, my code, is that of patterns and poetry;
and I also realised that if I or anyone wants to be a part
of any conversation, I and they have to learn and read
what is being said all around us every second,
sometimes silently without a sound,
because the answer to what is being said is
all in the signs.
Everybody wants that special person in their life
who they can turn to, and talk to, and look to,
and listen to, whenever they need someone;
every one of us wants to fall asleep
thinking about something that that special person in our life
did for us that made us happy, and always makes us happy-
just the sight of their eyes looking back at us,
or a message from them that may be inaudible to anyone else
who read it resounds and echoes loud and clear
in the cavenous expanses of our mind,
and drives the current of our inner river,
and produces rainbows in the waterfall of our imagination.
That special someone can be all that you need to
make you want to wake up, live, and go to sleep,
feeling incredible, and like you too, for knowing them,
are special.
Love is easy.
Love is the best thing ever-
when the place is perfect, and the time is right.
Love should feel easy,
love shouldn’t ever feel a struggle-
when real love comes calling and you recognise its face at first sight,
even though you may have not seen it before,
or if you have not for a long time.
Love is unquestionable.
Love is the best, the most potent, and the most life-changing drug,
and you can express love in so many ways-
deeply, intimately, eternally, beautifully, simply,
sometimes with just a stare, a touch, a word, a kiss,
a gift of belonging, connection, togetherness-
from a boyfriend to a girlfriend,
from a wife to a husband,
from a friend to a best friend-
in the way of a hug.
Gifts of affection come in many forms-
sometimes out of the blue,
like a surprise trip somewhere for two,
a reminder that someone loves you
and was thinking about you,
and they saw something while they weren’t with you
but as soon as they saw what they saw
they knew it would be the perfect present for you.
Two people who are in love
but don’t always say it to each other,
but who try to show it every day-
and not just on Valentine’s Day-
know that as long as they have each other,
as long as they have what no one could ever take
or replace, which they know is never going anywhere-
those two people, even though they may be apart sometimes
will always know that they will forever have
a vital piece of one another in their heart,
and that knowledge and that truth and that feeling
is hidden in plain sight for them to see, recognise,
and find.
You can feel and find love five seconds after meeting someone.
You can know you have found the one person who you want
to spend the rest of you life with the instant you feel their pull,
and their force of attraction becomes more powerful
and important than gravity,
and when you look at them and every time you do
you are in-awe iof them and stunned.
You can see someone over and over again everyday,
but the time for your two hearts and lives to combine
might not ne instantaneous and may come gradually
the more you learn about each other,
and the more you see in them what you have been searching for,
and what you have always wanted;
something that can make you do something amazing
that you would never do for anyone else
and have never done before for anyone else-
like buying someone a bouquet of flowers,
writing someone a letter,
telling someone a secret,
showing someone something that means something to you
for some reason that is personal and meaningful to you.
When I want to say something, or do something special
for my special someone, I like to do it with all my heart,
and I put eveything into it, and I like to leave
and give a part of me to someone in every word
and in every rhyme and message of my poetry-
and I like to play my own song,
I like to create my own music,
I like to send my voice into and over the air
for the one I love, and for the one who loves me
to find and to hear, and feel me and what I want them to feel,
and I want them to think of me whenever they hear my melody,
whenever they hear their melody,
whenever they hear our melody.
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.
A
Boy
Called
David
Eats
Fruit
Gingerly
Happy
In
Jubilation
Knowing
Life’s
Meaning
Never
Obligates
People
Questioning
Reason
See
The
Universal
Variables
With
Xenial
Youthful
Zeal
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 