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Eggs and bacon;
tea and toast;
coffee and waffles;
everybody craves something inside them
so that they can awaken-
something that they can eat
while picking up the early morning post,
something that they can savour every bite of,
something that they can eat with a gobble.
A full-English breakfast;
a blueberry muffin;
a bowl of fresh-fruit-
something you have every morning
and will have every morning
until your last;
something new you have been meaning to try,
and this morning you have decided to take a breath and dive in;
something hot; something cold;
something to look at and salute;
something that just hits the spot;
something that in its on right
is a gorgeous thing to behold.
Healthy, or unhealthy;
simple, or extravagant;
a boiled egg that when you break the shell
the yoke is still runny;
a gift from your own garden, perhaps,
and a gift of one of your own plants.
Breakfast that you yourself make;
breakfast that you share;
breakfast that you bake;
breakfast that you eat for a dare;
breakfast on holiday;
breakfast in bed;
breakfast that is like a buffet;
breakfast that is so tasty and amazing
just one bite instantly goes to your head.
A bowl of cereal;
a tub of porridge;
a delicious, succulent, and juicy, melon-
that tastes so sublime you swear that it can’t be real;
a pretzel that you eat on a busy street;
a stack of pancakes that you share
which are dripping in honey on a plate,
on a kitchen table, in a cozy country cottage.
In a cup, on a plate,
in a bowl, as a way to raise your heart-rate;
in small bites, or something you have in one go and whole;
in paper, in a glass;
something of infinite flavour;
something you can eat slow;
something you have got to eat on the go and in a dash-
there is no more important meal
to make sure you have and don’t pass,
and that is breakfast.
Never forget today;
never forget tomorrow;
never forget yesterday;
never forget the debt that we owe,
never forget the importance of sorrow.
The world loses someone important,
vibrant, memorable, and amazing,
every minute of every day-
however, we are only lucky enough
to know a fraction of those fascinating people,
but those who we do know are the stars in the sky
of our lives who shine upon us, and who energize us,
and who inspire us to be a certain way,
and without them life would not be so wonderful or beautiful.
Our lost friends are our conscience;
our forgotten memories are still hanging
in the gallery of our minds,
but they are just waiting to be unveiled again;
our connections with everyone are still strong,
and are everlasting,
because that first impression gifted
can only be given once;
our heart, our compassion,
our want to remember and be remembered will never die,
and there are days on which it is important to take a moment
and remember how lucky you are to be here on this planet-
and one of those dates, those days, those moments,
is today, on September the eleventh.
I have been to your beautiful memorial;
I have sent a prayer of peace to you all at the tree of hope;
I have been moved to tears at the memory and thought of you all,
even though we never met;
I have mourned you every day since that terrible day,
as if I were attending your funeral;
I have remembered, and will always remember,
where I was when I saw the world change forever in so many ways,
and I will hang on to that memory for the rest of my life
like a rope;
I have no answer as to why what happened the way it did,
and why those who did what they chose to,
but that is not important-
because what is paramount is that we stop anything
as horrifying from happening again as best that we can,
and always remember and teach peace,
think of the fallen often,
and never forget.
Sometimes you do honestly have to pinch yourself;
sometimes you do need to take a photo
to prove what just happened actually happened;
sometimes more happens to you than you can tell;
sometimes you do just have to go with the flow
and throw out any ideas or expectations
that you may have had planned;
sometimes you do have to ride the train to the end of the track;
sometimes you do have to count your blessings;
sometimes you do have to stop worrying about working out the why,
and doing all the maths;
sometimes you do have to feel and act without thinking,
because you have no idea what can come from a seemingly chance meeting.
You can wake up one morning
and find yourself coming face to face with a prince;
you can look up and see the beautiful face of a princess;
you can go somewhere and see something once
and never again will you have seen the same thing twice, or since;
you can be lucky every day to be best friends
with the one person in the entire world who truly understand you,
and you makes you feel whole when the world can feel like it is in a mess.
When you do something and someone likes it;
when you make an effort and someone notices;
when you find someone and you just click;
when you look around you and it feels like someone has given you
a happy life like no other,
and has made real and enhanced all of your secret hopes,
dreams, and wishes, you know that life does not get any better,
you know that the universe really does have a centre,
you know that you are doing all the right things,
you know that energetic and wild feeling of release-
like a solar-flare on the surface of the sun,
or an eruption of intense heat from a hot spring.
The sights you see,
the music you hear,
the touch you feel, are important,
and those same instantaneous memories will become recollections and echoes,
waves and melodies in your daily life,
and they will influence your choices-
the people that you meet,
the things that you find,
the stories that you learn,
are like pieces of a mosaic,
patches of a quilt,
trees of a rain-forest,
lines of a matrix,
distinctive intonations of a chorus of voices.
When something feels right,
you know that you want to hold on to it forever;
when something feels natural,
you never want it to end or be over;
when something feels like nothing else has ever felt,
or could ever feel;
when something feels like it is just too good for words or description,
then you know that things are not just a dream anymore,
they are for real.
When you think about
all the innumerable things that happen in life,
especially in your own life,
that all stem from a single moment of creation
that is beyond the control of anyone who has ever lived;
when you think about what you have done,
what others have done, and why everyone did what they did,
it is not hard to wonder, and it is not surprising to think,
about what may happen in the future-
however, we all forget that the future consists, and is built on,
the choices and the decisions that we make now,
and a combination of what we know for sure,
as well as the chaotic and unpredictable confluence
of the things that we come across and effect us,
which make us go wow!
Gravity, and anti-gravity;
Earth, and outer-space;
Strength, and fragility;
Confusion, and happiness-
two opposing sides of a single coin
tossed in the air, waiting to fall
and land on one side or the other,
and sometimes, depending on which way the wind blows
at a certain time of the day
can change the course of an entire life
and can move you in a particular direction
and can drive you in a natural way-
like the way that music can engage and drive
the heart, the mind, the spirit,
and the body of a dancer.
Wherever you happen to be at a given moment,
at a particular time in our life,
can effect you a great deal;
a writer, for example, writes differently
and about different things depending on where they are-
in a loud cafe, in their sanctuary at home,
while they are sitting down eating a meal,
listening to music in complete silence,
alone, or surrounded by people-
life effects a writer and their writing,
in ways that are always inspiring.
When you come up with an idea;
when you fall in love with something, or someone-
the idea, the thing, the person, takes over you
and becomes the most important thing in your life,
they become your life, and they become all that you want and desire,
and can make you feel out of this world,
but like you are even more connected to the world-
they can make you feel the happiest of the happy,
and as if you are walking on the moon in anti-gravity.
There is something so beautiful;
there is something so breath-taking;
there is something so amazing;
there is something so special;
there is something so mesmerizing, fascinating,
hypnotic, gorgeous, and true, and a part of you;
there is something so wonderful, brilliant, and incredible,
and nothing more personal and exceptional,
than something, or the name of someone
who means something to you,
drawn and painted on your skin in the form of a tattoo.
I am always amazed when I see someone’s tattoo
and beautiful body-art and it makes me go wow!
The human body is a thing of indescribable beauty anyway-
from birth to death-
but someones beautiful and ingrained designs
that they choose to mark their skin and paint themselves with
to me are beautiful, great, and magical,
and someone’s tattoo, to me, is also an important part of them,
and a noticeable tease of who they are,
what they like, who and what makes their heart beat fast,
and ties them and writes even more so
into the constantly-evolving human story and living myth.
I have seen tattoos and body-art of many forms-
from the beautiful painting of a heart with a keyhole inside it
on someone’s chest, to the gorgeous and phenomenal sight
of butterflies on someone’s back that I cannot get enough of;
I have seen the names of someone’s beloved and soulmate
written up someone’s arm;
I have seen and read the most staggering and wonderful
indellible inscriptions of eternal love;
I have seen song-lyrics, artists,
sacred and meaningful symbols of hope on someone’s body
that look as if they have always been a part of someone;
I have been in-awe by the sight of Angels wings,
the face of a tiger, a spider, a web,
a unique design of someone’s own imagining
that I always look in wonder,
and I always want to ask why and how
they chose the design and where the thought behind it came from.
To me, tattoos and body-art are like poetry.
To me, tattoos and body-art and are a written chapter,
an answer, and a question, that you and anyone
can see, remember, ask, think.
To me, a tattoo and body-art is a symbol
and a celebration of someone being liberated,
connected to something greater,
as well as being free.
To me, art is inspiring and the best thing in the entire world,
and the most sincere, and the most amazing expression,
and there is no better, resonant, long-lasting, and important,
than art painted on your body,
and a beautiful tattoo drawn in ink.
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.
A little boy jumping in puddles,
a little girl kicking and tossing
a collection of leaves on the ground-
the joy in their faces,
the pure excitement in their bodies,
is exhilarating to see and to witness;
just as it is brilliant to see a child
be encouraged and compelled to be excited
by their parents, and not told off
for doing what they are doing-
being a kid.
A child has a right to be free more than anybody
in discovering the answer to ‘If I do this, what happens next?’-
they might learn a valuable lesson
that will stay with them their entire life,
and depending on how their parents respond to them
at particular and important moments
will be the difference between them aspiring to be more,
see more, and experience more,
and walking the line of hope and trouble,
and knowing the value of something and someone;
whether it be an acquaintance, a friend, a gift,
a house, a sunrise, a rest, a cup of coffee,
a hand-hold, a look, a relationship-
just as they will always hopefully know
the true value of a hard-earned dollar, or a pound.
One of the best moments to witness
is when a child hears music for the first time,
and it instantly makes them dance, move,
and sing along to the lyrics
and replicate with complete accuracy all the right
choreography and dance-moves, words,
and the inflections of the artist
who is the author of the song they are hearing,
and it truly moves them like no other form
of communication of any kind.
Children love to express their profound joy
and overwhelming passion for life in every way-
whenever they can, wherever they can, with whoever they are with,
and they never hold back, unless they are stopped in their tracks
by something they have never seen before,
and then the expression that you see on their face
is absolutely priceless:
it’s like a mix of wonder and confusion,
bliss and captivation;
something new to a child, like a new song,
is like magic to them, and they don’t mind listening to a song,
or seeing something, over and over again.
They say that we lose much as we grow up, get older,
and sometimes we forget the pure unadulterated enjoyment
and the thrill of exposure of our inner-self
and our untempered emotions for all the world to see-
because we are so worried about what other people
will think and who society, for all its good,
tells us we aught to be-
a child doesn’t have that,
a child doesn’t need that,
a child should have boundaries,
but not those that will stop them
from doing from doing the impossible,
from overcoming and clearing the fences
that can threaten to restrict their metamorphosis too much.
A child doesn’t need to be told what they can’t do,
they need to be shown and encouraged in the things they can do
and will do;
a child can grow up anywhere
and as long as they have what they need when they need it,
a child can and will change the world-
it happens everyday, it has happened everyday of human history-
whether that child is born into poverty,
doesn’t have all that every other child they go to school with has;
whether that child is deaf, physically or mentally challenged, or blind-
any and every child can be something amazing and someone spectacular,
as long as they are surrounded by love and support,
and while they are a child they are allowed to be free,
discover, and be who they want to be,
and can make every moment of their lives
an important part of their play time.
Is what I am seeing really happening?
Is what I am feeling really true?
What was there a minute ago has disappeared in the wind.
What I felt touching my face has melted away
and dissolved from view.
The sun has come out,
the snow that fell like a blizzard not long ago
hasn’t even left a snowflake on the ground
to remember it by.
People keep going,
the wheels keep turning,
the tea and the coffee is kept pouring,
the songs keep playing;
people love making a forthright choice
without any lingering or doubt;
friends keep saying hello,
companions always have to say goodbye.
There is no such thing as a bottomless cup.
There is no such thing as a winter without end.
Things don’t ever stop fascinating you about life
and about how the world works,
even when we realize and we know that we are a grown-up-
a sudden surprise event or incident that you never saw coming
doesn’t ever stop making your heart beat fast,
like meeting a new friend.
Interpretation can be an illusion.
What we think we see may not actually be there.
Not every answer to a question is a solution.
Sometimes life can be and can seem
like a non-stop game of truth or dare.
Things are important to us.
People are what keep us going.
We can lose our things,
we can lose touch with people,
we can lose focus,
we can forget where it was we were originally going,
because we got so lost in what we were doing.
Sometimes we can become hypnotized,
when we look into someone’s eyes we can become mesmerized.
When we look at our lives it can seem like a collage.
When we look at what is happening in the world
and all around us,
sometimes everything can feel like we are looking at a mirage.
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.
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! 🙂
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 