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Early in the morning,
as the stars shine at night,
love makes my heart sing,
music fills my life;
when I wake up and the rain is pouring,
as I drift off to sleep,
a song, a voice, a melody,
takes me to my dreams and set alight
my deep thoughts like a fire.
My dreams are epic,
my dreams are sometimes dark-
but they are more often than not
overwhelmingly insightful and bright.
My dreams have things in them that have significance
and hidden meaning-
whether it is the sight of a typewriter,
or the echo of a clocks tick,
or the sight of someone taking a photograph of me
as I am taking a picture of them-
it always amazes me what my own subconscious conjures up
during the day in the heat of the sun,
or at night when the moon is reflecting light back at the Earth
and at all of us and influencing our thoughts and fortunes.
We all go to bed with thoughts, feelings,
and inflections of the day before that is slowly drifting away,
and its events will soon have gone by and be no more
than a shadow, when all is said and done;
we all wake up the next day feeling different,
but with certain splinters in our mind
still playing on our thoughts
that we can’t rid ourselves of or shake easily-
some of us get up and try to start their day
and free ourselves of any lingering worries or concerns
with a daily morning run,
some of us sit up in bed and listen to music,
watch TV, read a book, write poetry,
someone of us take hold of our favourite instrument
and play to our hearts content,
some of us just sit and cry on our own,
just so we can vent.
Talking is important;
connections are essential;
letting out and letting go
can be like the cool water from a font;
remembering the people you love,
and where you want to be,
because they are to you the most wonderful and the most special,
needs to be, must be, will always be-
and that is why you must run, walk, look, see,
the magic all around in the daylight;
that is why you must run into the ocean of the unknown;
that is why you need to touch and feel a part of the light;
that is why you must be fearless, bold, and brave,
and let the world and everything in it fill your life.
I am a man of many secrets.
I am someone who has done things, heard things, seen things;
I know things that can’t ever be shown, admitted to, or said.
I am a man unlike anyone you may have met.
I am someone who has memories of places and times that happened,
but didn’t happen- about things and people that I can’t tell anyone,
but which I remember and relive every night
when I dream, when I am laying in bed.
People never say everything.
People have so much to say sometimes they end up saying nothing.
People find it hard to admit an unfiltered truth.
People will do anything to keep a secret
that could change the way people see them-
so much so that they will go to great lengths
to not make their secrets obvious,
and they try to not leave any questions behind them,
nor any sort of clues.
Many of the secrets that we keep are to protect something,
or someone that needs to be surrounded and enclosed,
because if knowledge of it became well-known
there may be ramifications and ripple-effects
that could follow you afterwards everywhere you go.
Everyone carries a secret with them every second of every day;
everyone has to live with a shadow hanging over them
that they only see when they look in the mirror,
and they feel the pressure of keeping their tongue at bay.
Most secrets are not Earth-shattering,
but they are reality and identity fracturing.
Most secrets are a thousand secrets in one,
but they become something you fit in the palm of your hand
when you are on the run.
People say that want to know every detail about something,
but that in itself is a secret,
because secretly, perhaps even to them,
it is the not knowing that keeps something interesting-
the more you know is not always the best.
Honesty may be a policy, but as a way of life complete honesty
can be hurtful, destructive, the worst thing for so many reasons.
It is only when we are told that we were being told what we wanted
do we wish we were still being lied to,
but most of the time we wish that what was said and heard
was the truth- but that is a gift that is like nature,
because nature doesn’t lie-
it is complicated, hard to fanthom at times,
and cannot ever be tamed, but you know where you stand with
and in nature, and it tells you and shows you
so many of its secrets every day of every season.
Secrets are like mysteries,
and a world without mystery
no one would choose to live in.
Secrets are a question and an answer,
and they keep life continuously interesting.
Secrets are what compel everyone to meet,
and to talk to someone they don’t know and have never met.
Secrets are important,
but choosing to not say all that you know
and what is on your mind can sometimes be hard,
even for a man of many hidden secrets.
In the light of day
there are not that many people who know me for being Me-
the man who gets up every morning,
and loves nothing more than watching the sunrise,
while writing beautiful poetry.
I love writing, and I love to write poetry!
To me, sometimes when I am writing a poem,
I feel like I am in the driving seat of a Formula 1 car
in the middle of a Grand Prix!
The ideas and the images that race through my mind,
the feelings that I feel when I am writing a poem,
or a rhyme that feels like it is almost writing itself,
is like having an out of body experience and revelation moment combined.
It is a rush, and a phenomenal surge of heightened awareness
of where I am, where I have been, and what I have seen;
however, when I am not writing, when I am not dreaming,
if you were to see me walking down the street,
that part of me would be utterly unnoticeable-
nowhere to be seen.
Most people don’t walk around holding a sign,
or wear a T-shirt to declare to all who they are and what they do-
most of the time the “true you” is veiled
and hidden from view.
As it should be, most people take great pride in their outer-appearance-
while asking everyone else to make up their own mind about who they are
based on how they judge people generally-
the first impression we make on, or of, someone
is usually the most lasting one,
and the one that we reflect upon in our minds memory association gallery.
If seen from far away, then I can honestly say
that my appearance would tell you absolutely nothing about the man I am,
nor what I am thinking about;
however, up-close, and in conversation,
then I feel confident that in a matter of seconds
you would glean something in me
that would eclipse your first impression forever-
of that I am in no doubt.
The first impression is a question:
is what I see all that there is?
And the answer is always the same:
no; however, the first question is always but the start of the great life quiz.
The bank clerk that I speak to every week
could be a beautiful dancer, or an amazing artist;
the waiter that brings me my lunch
could be the next Mozart, Shakespeare-
a future celebrated composer,
or a one day award-winning novelist.
You simply cannot tell who someone really is until you ask them,
and it may take a while before you see them for all that they are
from what they say, but it is not a question of will you find out
who they are, it’s a question of when.
I love a challenge, I love meeting new people,
and once I have begun something I never quit.
To me, life is meant to be loved, and made the most of.
I love to be moved, I loved to be inspired,
and I am a secret poet.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 