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There are morning stars,
there is morning music,
there are morning flights,
there is morning light,
there are morning people,
there is morning life waking up in cities,
towns, villages, homes, rooms, apartments, houses,
in families, in beds, in nature, in nests, in barns,
peacefully, calmly, dreamily,
and sometimes with a shock or a fright-
morning time for some is the best and the most wonderful,
for some when they wake up and they look out the window
the world looks as if it could stretch to infinity.
There are morning moments that can’t be replayed
at any other time of the day;
there are morning delights that make you smile;
there are morning voices and faces
that tell you that everything is going to be ok;
there are morning trials that you must sometimes run through
to make everything that you do worthwhile.
There is morning inspiration;
there is morning fascination;
there is morning creation;
there is morning elevation;
there is morning gravitation;
there is morning communication;
there is morning articulation;
there is morning anticipation;
there is morning illumination;
there are morning constellations,
still bright in the sky and shining,
as they have been for a million years;
there is a new day that I always enjoy exploring;
there are beautiful morning views that bring you to tears;
there is a miraculous magic to be found
in the light, the sounds, the time, the rituals,
of every morning.
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.
‘Goodbye’ is the saddest word there is;
saying goodbye is the hardest thing
you will ever have to do in your life;
goodbye can seem like a full-stop,
and a reminder of all the things about someone and you
that you have in common that you are going to miss;
saying goodbye is something that I run away from doing
and I will do anything to avoid,
like a magician trying to make sure
he isn’t hit by fast-flying knives.
The season is ending;
people are going their separate ways;
relationships are fading;
people are making a new start somewhere else,
and are saying that “I hope we will see each other again some day.”
I don’t want to see anybody leave
the places where I always know they are going to be;
I don’t want things to change,
but I don’t want to stop anyone
from doing what they must do-
I don’t want want to think or say anything selfishly,
because I do want everyone to be happy,
and I have always been a big believer
that nothing and no one that was born free
should ever be restrained and held in a cage.
I could not live with myself
if I thought that I were holding someone back;
I cannot think of worse prospect
than not being able to follow
the energy and the path of your passion-
support, love, belief, in me and of me,
is something I have always had;
inspiration, happiness, contentment,
a sense of belonging,
are things that I would never dream to ration.
I will never be able to truly say “goodbye”,
to say “see you later”, to say “see you in another life”,
or to say “remember me, and don’t forget me”,
with a straight-face to someone,
without having a tear of sadness welling up in my eye;
I know that life is a cycle,
I know that people have to go sometimes,
but I will never like or want to truly be
a part of the cycle of goodbye.
Hi, everyone! 🙂
If you have been reading my poems, and visiting my site, regurlarly,
or perhaps if you are a new reader, and a new visitor here,
I am sure that you will have already figured out that I am a very
passionate, intense (sometimes), inspired, imaginative,
deep-feeling, hopeful, optimistic, lover of the written word
and of the power of imagination and dreams-
and I am here to say that dreams do come true,
and I know they do because they have come true for me
on more than one occasion,
and there is no greater example and gift that I can present to you
as proof of dreams and the importance of following your passion
and doing everything to make your dreams come true no matter what,
than my book ‘Poet of the Sphere’ and my new book ‘The Sound of Mark’,
which are availible to buy right now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and The Book Depository!
My first book ‘Poet of the Sphere’ was a miracle and dream come true,
on so many levels, and I will forever be in awe of it,
and hold it close to my heart;
my new book ‘The Sound of Mark’, that was published just a few days ago,
is a reminder and torch of hope for me, and I hope for a lot of people,
for me and everyone to take a hold of, look at, and do with it what they may.
My poetry means something to me, because my poetry is literally my life:
my feelings, my thoughts, my interests, my observations,
my hopes, my dreams, my heroes, my fears, my friends, my loves,
my world- my poetry is very personal to me,
and my poems are better read and understood, I would guess,
as diary or journal entries written by me about what is happening
and about who I am at a particular, fleeting, precious,
moment in time that will never come again,
and that is how I believe each and every one of us should think about
our lives and about life itself-
because you only have one life, and you only have a short window of opportunity
to be who you are, and who you want to be,
and to live like their is no tomorrow.
‘The Sound of Mark’ is me, it is a journey, it is my journey;
however, when you read it, if you read it,
think of yourself as me and give yourself to the words that you read,
and relive my journey with me, and allow my poetry to inspire you, hopefully,
to go off and be the adventurer and writer of your own journey,
and be the best person that you can be!
I hope you will buy, like, and enjoy my new book!
Every poem in the book can be found on my site already,
but when read as a book and as a story in book-form
every poem is like a key to a door within a house of over a hundred rooms,
and as you go from room to room, and from poem to poem,
you will discover something about me,
and perhaps something about yourself! 🙂
The paperback and Kindle version of ‘The Sound of Mark’
is available online @ Amazon.com: http://amzn.com/1938082036
@ Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1938082036
@ Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/ZtqWMM
@ The Book Depository: http://bit.ly/1r5ctB2
-Mark
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.
I have written on planes;
I have written on trains;
I have written in cars;
I have written in bars;
I have written while working;
I have written while searching;
I have written on paper;
I have written on a computer;
I have written for someone;
I have written about someone;
I have written for myself;
I have written for my health;
I have written with a smile;
I have written while walking a mile;
I have written in tears;
I have written for hours that felt like years;
I have written in the sun;
I have written for fun;
I have written to make things right;
I have written just so that I could write.
When you are a child
the future seems like a far-away country,
as you grow up you become interested in many different things;
when you look around and everything and everybody
is telling you that you have to make a choice
about what you want to do,
and what you want to make of your life,
as your compass turns and becomes fixed on a particular direction
that even just the thought of always makes you happy,
and you cannot deny the flutter in your heart
and the surge of positivity in your mind that it brings,
you know that you have found the stepping stones,
the stride, the rhythm, and the trampoline
that you need to take you high.
It can be hard to find your way,
sometimes you have to try to truly know
if something feels right;
it can feel like a miracle
when you get an idea in your mind
about the epic possibilities that are so close you can touch them,
and those that never go away;
sometimes you need to imagine something before it can happen;
you have to mute the voice of non-believers around you
who tell you to stop dreaming-
because although there opinion may be cautionary,
the only opinion that is the most important
is that of your heart,
and that is one you should never fight.
Life-changing and amazing things happen to you
when you find your obsession, your passion,
your intuition, your reason,
fate comes to fruition
when you walk with a piece of magic inside you,
and your touch changes the life of someone else,
and gives a gift of wonder like that of a magician.
Looking, listening, thinking, believing,
seeing, making, inspiring, embracing,
accepting, changing, awaking, racing,
and before you know it
your life is noticeably and infinitely amazing,
and better and more phenomenal and special
than what you had always been imagining.
Time is the first gift
that we are all given at birth,
and it is up to us all to do with it what we will
before the lids of our eyes become too heavy for us to lift-
so, be incredible, be inspiring, be indispensable,
be as fast as lightning:
whether you are destined to be a manual-worker,
a clerk, a painter, a manager, a teacher,
or someone who has the power to change the world
and weave a tapestry of hope
that is bestowed to the most gifted of wordsmiths.
As I dream at night,
when I wake up in the morning,
as I walk in the sun, and in the rain,
through forests of trees,
and along streets of light,
I hear a sound,
I feel a calling,
I decipher the chaos,
I feel on fire,
I see, read, and imagine poetry,
in every leaf, in every smile,
in every look, in every raindrop-
the energy of the world gets into my veins,
the inspiration of the universe
makes me feel like the king of the cosmos,
everybody I know and everything about them,
and all that I know, has my imagination and thoughts
jetting off faster and higher than an airplane,
and just as I am right now-
everything twists around me
and I feel like I am in the eye of a storm,
seeing and watching things that appear fractured
from the outside looking in
come together and fuse forever
like a blanket of frost.
I will never forget the moment I heard the sound;
I will never forget who inspired my voice;
I will never forget the shock-wave that I felt,
like a lightning-bolt hitting the ground;
I will never forget who I was and who I knew
I would always be- as a matter of destiny, not choice;
I will never forget what began, what came first,
and what it was like to instantly feel
like all this time I had been traveling through the heavens,
but I just hadn’t realized it;
I will never forget the moment I became the poet.
The journey has been bumpy;
the road hasn’t always been smooth;
the sky above and my vision has on occasion been cloudy;
however, I have not stood still, I have kept on the move;
I have written about love,
I have written about loss,
I even wrote a poem once about a lost glove;
and every day I write with a pen and paper,
or I create something with my soul
on the canvas of my mind, with all my heart,
and I am consumed, happy, free of fear,
alive with life and inspiration-
like I have emerged from the waves of a sea
and I am now walking in the soft sand of the wash.
When you realize that you have a gift;
when people tell you that you should pursue your talent
and see where it takes you;
when you know that you have something to offer someone
who needs what you have inside you
you can feel your own heart racing in your chest
and your pulse beating in your wrist;
when you see truth, hope, purpose, potential, and goodness,
emanating like an aura from certain people
that you are fortunate to meet,
the things and the people who give us so much
are who we too want to do all for and give back to.
The ‘Poet of the Sphere’ is who I will always be,
and the first book of my poetry
is only the first chapter, the first volume,
the first teaser, of the whole story that is me;
now, I am stepping into the future
with memories and experiences from my life,
hoping to share who I will always be in the light of the day
as well as in the twilight of the dark,
and you can be sure that when you read
or hear the voice of the Poet of the Sphere,
you will forever know, and you will forever recognize,
the unmistakable sound of Mark.
My favourite song is playing on the radio;
I am drinking my favourite drink, in my favourite place;
my thoughts are in over-drive,
as I sit, looking around, with a smile on my face;
it’s raining outside, but life is sweet
and I am happy and warm inside- like hot raspberry jam;
I am having a flashback and a flash-forward,
between a happy little boy,
and a content old man.
I have always felt like a conduit;
I have always sought out and shared;
I have always believed that you can carry everything you need,
most of the time, in your trouser pockets;
I have always gone to the edge,
taken a risk, and gone farther sometimes than others might choose to dare,
in thoughts, in feelings, on foot, on a path
that never doubles back on itself-
but the things that happen on it do feel strangely familiar;
life is a playground of spins, swings, ups, and downs,
tears, smiles, pain, and laughter-
so it is never a surprise to me that things reoccur.
In this day and age, everybody is looking for a power-point,
a place to plug-in and recharge;
everyday, everybody, wherever they are,
take advantage of the free,
the seemingly-indispensable, the small, the large;
today, right now, a billion years ago, always,
life in all its forms makes the most of what it has
and what surrounds it, and everything reacts and adapts
to certain things, at certain times, in a myriad of ways.
Things have a history;
you can always find a pattern to follow;
the definitive meaning of life will always be a mystery;
but what everybody and everything really needs to know
is always with you and inside you wherever you go.
You can’t go around life, you can only go through it;
you can’t hide yourself forever,
because one day someone will unlock your soul,
and read your mind, and know your heart better than anyone,
and make you realize that you too are a conduit.
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The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 