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I have loved music for as long as I can remember;
in all honesty, I have loved music
longer than I have loved poetry;
I have loved music, I have been changed by music,
I have felt more alive than ever
when listening to music,
I have been overcome with emotion when listening to music;
I have closed my eyes, been taken,
carried far, deep, and high-
as if I were swimming in the voice, the lyrics,
and the sound of the music, the energy of the music,
and drifting peacefully, contently, effortlessly,
free like a feather.

Music has been a big part of my life since before I could talk;
music had me running before I could walk;
music sent me to sleep and coloured my dreams;
music awoke me every morning as a child,
and within the heart of my soul
it has always been and will always be.

I must have heard thousands of songs;
I must have heard hundreds of artists,
singers, musicians, and bands;
I must have dreamed that I were John Lennon
playing guitar and singing along with the other Beatles
about fifty times, bu I could be wrong;
I must have had more favourite songs in my life
than I could count with the fingers on both of my hands.

I love songs, styles, speeds, of every type,
and possible genre, and classification, of music;
I love songs that take a hold of both my mind and my heart,
and make me feel epic;
I love songs that have unique, poetic, empathetic,
sometimes tragic, lyrics;
I love songs that are nothing short of celestial magic.

I love female voices;
I love male voices;
I love instruments;
I love voices that are soulful, special, lyrical,
incredible, unbelievable, beautiful, different;
I love who I am when a song makes me want to dance;
I love when a song puts me in a trance;
I love what I think about when a song is playing;
I love where I go within myself,
as I sing along to every song,
and as I repeat every line without mistake,
it is almost as if I am chanting or praying;
I love a song that to me is nothing short of perfect;
I love life, art, inspiration, memories,
feelings that were made, created, felt, captured,
made infinite, because of, and for,
the love of music.

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Everyone has their likes and dislikes;
everyone has an opinion about what is the best,
even when we are a child we have our favourites-
a favourite toy we like to play with,
a favourite teddy-bear we like to carry around everywhere,
a favourite blanket that we hold onto tightly for comfort and security,
a favourite bike, a favourite colour that can equally make us feel
calm and quiet one minute, and then the next have our heart
beating fast in our chest.

Throughout our lives we grow to love things more and more,
and we can even gain a new appreciation of some things
that we always claimed wholeheartedly to always hate,
because nothing ever last forever,
and because invariably our tastes do change over time-
there are some things of brilliance and greatness
that we can discover and happen-upon late.

Our favourites are individualistic and say much about who we are
and about the life we have had and the life we live;
our favourites are what make our entire day
and can be what we think about and breath every minute;
our favourite person, our favourite song,
our favourite lesson, our favourite road
which we travel on which is never a mile too long,
our favourite book, our favourite car,
our favourite cook, our favourite drink at our favourite bar.

Our favourites are our favourites,
because they make us feel something;
our favourites are our favourites,
because they make the world feel like there is nothing missing;
our favourites are our favourites,
because they make us feel at home
even when we are far-away from what we know
as well as the back of our hand;
our favourites are our favourites,
because they are special to us
and not just another grain of sand.

My favourite book is ‘The Little Prince’;
my favourite film is ‘The Shawshank Redemption’,
or, depending on the day, ‘500 Days of Summer’;
my favourite colour is Blue;
my favourite writer is William Shakespeare,
and he has been from the moment I first read his beautiful words,
and every time I have re-read anything penned by him every day since;
my favourite song is ‘To the moon and back’ by Savage Garden,
but I also love John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’-
and to me these songs are songs that no one else
could ever truly cover;
my favourite thing to do is write,
but, if you know me already,
that would be something that you already knew.

What is my favourite now hasn’t always been,
nor should it ever be-
things are meant to change, as we are meant to change;
as we live, learn, and experience new things and see new things
we grow and change, bear fruit, and take in,
and are a person and a product of our environment, circumstance,
mood, and our emotional metamorphosis that we sometimes go through,
because of something that we feel and see.

Your favourites are your favourites, but they could also be
the favourites of someone you know,
or of someone you have yet to meet-
but who you might meet because you share the same love
and appreciation for something,
and because you bask in the light that something,
or perhaps someone, daily emits;
your favourite table, your favourite chair,
your favourite place, your favourite passion-
there is always an amazing story and an amazing reason
why something touches you, and why something, or why someone,
becomes your favourite.

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One of the most phenomenal, inspiring, magnetic, influential,
and amazing, men, musicians, and poets, of the 20th Century-
you have had a remarkable impact on my life, my Dads life,
and on the lives of millions of people all around the world-
you were the epitome of humanity, and you always will be.

Your music has filled the homes, the hearts, and the minds,
of my family, since before I was born-
in fact, the first Christmas present that my Mum brought my Dad
was a copy of ‘Double Fantasy’,
and the album that I know my Dad thinks about
when he thinks of you and he wishes to mourn.

I would have loved to have known you, to have met you,
and to have talked to you, John;
even if it were only for a minute-
after listening to every one of your songs, and the songs of The Beatles,
I have felt many times that you were talking directly to me,
to everyone-
and to this day, and beyond, I feel as if your voice,
and your message has no limit.

You wrote and created some of the most incredible, moving,
amazing, and true, songs that I have ever heard-
every song is like an amplifier of my own thoughts, memories,
troubles, and hopes, and I am inspired and enlightened by every word.

You are, were, will always be, us, all, me, and everyone;
you believed, and you saw, that the best of life, and the world,
can be achieved through peace, love,
and through striving to be the best that we can become.

To me, you are one of the greatest men to have ever lived,
and everyday I mourn you like I would a brother;
you changed the world during your short time on Earth
for the better, and forever;
and who you were, and what you and your music mean to people,
is a star so bright it will never be eclipsed by another.

Everyday your music reaches out to people so profoundly
that they can not imagine a world in which you were not a part of it;
everyday the love that you had within you,
and the love that people will always feel for you,
manifests all over the world, and enlighten’s your spirit.

You will live forever,
your voice will echo for all-time
through the minds and the hearts
of all who hear your voice-
tomorrow, a century from now, and especially today,
the 8th of December, 2011;
I believe the world will one day live in peace with one another, as one,
and fulfill your dream, the dream of John Lennon.

For John

The urge to run is a very powerful drive-
to begin a new page; to move on; to run off and hide.
When we decide to run away from the people we claim to love
it only serves to make us look like a coward, and make a mockery of
the feelings we once wrote down, and the emotions that we described,
and makes our words, when read in retrospect, seem as if we just lied
when we wrote of our love for someone, and how we enjoyed their company,
how we thought about them all the time, and found every one of their jokes funny.
There is a John Lennon song that always comes to mind-
and with it a luminous image of someone that always makes me blind-
that takes me back to a time of great confusion,
a time that ultimately sent me into seclusion
from the beautiful Angel who could stop time for me with her smile,
and for nearly a year now, I must admit, because of whom I have been in denial
about just how much I loved her, and how much she inspired me,
and how happy without her I could never be.
The John Lennon song ‘Jealous Guy’ does it every time,
in fact the lyrics to that song describe better than I could possibly rhyme
why, at the time, I decided to turn-tail and run,
and about the regret that I now feel about what I had done.
If there was anything I could do to turn back the clock-
anything that I could say, any closed door that I unlock-
to be able to go back in time and undo what I did,
to stop and tell myself before I ran away and hid
not to listen to that “Jealous guy” voice in my ear,
to keep my heart pure, and my mind clear.
But it’s too late for that now, the time for I’m sorry is long over due-
I have to live with what I did, and somehow make anew
the poems that I wrote, and the devotion that I once showed,
for the woman who will always be the muse of my best poetic ode.

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