You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘meaning’ tag.
Standing up for what is right is a calling;
defending the voices of the minority
is a meaningful and satisfying cause;
being the one to stand before a seemingly overwhelming force
that almost sounds like and can seem as scary
as a lion when it is roaring;
showing all of yourself to prove that you have nothing to fear
is what you have to do sometimes,
even if you have to do it completely naked
riding through a city on the back of a horse.
Everybody has those dreams of themselves
walking around naked;
everybody wishes that they could run around free
like they used to when they were a kid;
as we get older we become more restricted;
as our opinions, hopes, and dreams, change
we want more and more to be protected.
It’s natural to want to surround yourself;
it’s the way of the world to clothe yourself in the fabric
of the time in which you live;
it’s not wrong to sometimes want to walk around in stealth;
it’s comforting to believe and hold close to your heart
the meaning and the message of a myth;
it’s great to stay and return to what makes you smile;
it’s magical to be looking around you and just see stars;
it’s liberating to be the master of your own style;
it’s carnival-like fun and exciting to want to see
and experience all that exists and is waiting to be seen,
that is as thrilling, fascinating, and inspiring,
as the thought of finding water on Mars.
The freedom to be;
the need to see;
the instinct to share;
the thrill to dare;
the simplicity to be basic;
the ease to be happy with what others take for granted
is more hypnotic and enchanting than a magic trick.
Energy never dies.
Stories are retold, and are never over.
The truth is like gold.
You can be who you want to be,
and strip yourself of what you don’t need,
and you too can be a legend and an inspiration for many,
just like the luminary hero of Coventry
who will forever be known as Lady Godiva.
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.
When we stop looking back,
when we stop spinning around
and making ourselves dizzy,
when we stop being haunted by ghosts from the past,
when we stop worrying about everything we can’t control
and get to work on getting busy,
when we stop ourselves from being hacked by the opinions
and the fears of other people,
we can truly enjoy every second of life to its fullest
and be happy.
No one does anything,
no one goes anywhere,
without a reason,
or without something
that only they can bring;
no one would do anything
unless they cared about
what it means to be there.
People follow their dreams,
people work hard from the time that they are children at school,
at college, at university, at finding their passion,
at finding their calling-
people join groups, people become part of teams,
to be of something, to talk about something,
to have something of importance and meaning in their life,
which then connects them with other people of the same way of acting,
thinking, feeling, and then ultimately to everyone else on Earth,
and that is what we all search for and find always,
and most of the time in the last place that we would ever think to look;
life is not always a straight-line of events and connections
as it sometimes appears in the story of a film, or in a book.
Life cannot possibly come with detailed instructions,
or a blueprint to follow-
life is way too random and spontaneous for that;
life should not just be a checklist of what you want to do, and when,
because life has a funny way of showing you that that is not how it goes,
and sometimes you have to strike-out more than once to get a home-run
with the help of a good swing and a great contact
between a baseball and a baseball bat.
If you constantly focus and become obsessed with reaching the end
and achieving everything you have written down
on your personal list of things to do,
you can sometimes miss things along the way
that will make your journey that much more satisfying,
when you do wake up one morning
and realize the dream that you have just woken up from
was in fact memories of the life that you have had and have;
sometimes you can even forget who is the real you,
and that is why we all must expect, hope for, believe,
and make the most of, the good things ahead.
Like bubbles in the air carried by the wind;
like a balloon let go to rise above the clouds,
passed an airplanes wing;
like a person’s voice that fills you with energy,
and makes you daydream in ecstatic bliss;
like a static electrical touch,
or a powerful and amazing kiss-
you can leave your body,
you can leave the ground,
you can bask in glory,
you can breath without a sound,
you can sense someone is with you,
you can feel a breeze touch you like a caress,
you can make a fantasy into truth,
you can be free of regret.
The nature of the universe is infinite change,
in infinite ways, in infinite directions, in infinite depths.
Life presents, shows, and gives us wonders;
life takes us, carries us, and talks to us-
like a best friend that is never out of words, or breath.
The nature of meaningful connections that are responsible
for binding the relationships of everything and everyone
together as one is as striking as lightning,
and as loud as thunder.
Like a sailboat on the sea;
like a glider on an air current;
like an invisible force that you do not see;
like an ever-changing store-front-
we are guided and influenced by the feeling of something;
we are tantalised by the out of reach, but achievable;
we are compelled by a song that we want to sing;
we are held and lifted by a crowd of countless people;
we are like a bird, or a bee-
free to fly, free to be.
We all carry each other;
we all carry a gift;
we all carry a burden, or a worry;
we all carry a need, and a dream;
we all carry our heart out in front of us,
like a loving Mother, Father, Sister, or Brother;
we all carry a bridge that can cross and close any rift;
we all carry a hope that good things will happen in a hurry;
we all carry memories of where we have been;
we all carry and take people along a shared journey,
like the driver of a bus.
We all blossom.
We all grow and bear fruit like a tree.
We all carry someone.
We all have people in our lives who carry us,
and I am so lucky to have people in my life
who constantly carry me.
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.
Opening and closing our eyes.
Inhaling and exhaling.
Watching and feeling our chest rise and fall.
Stretching and reaching for daylight.
Looking at the clock and blinking,
and accidentally losing track of the time.
Lying in bed, turning and stepping out,
and touching the floor of our bedroom with our feet.
Remembering that there is this thing called “gravity”
that keeps us all in-line and walking and standing fine.
Thinking and wondering what the new day has in store.
Doing what you do, as you paddle out to the sea
that is the outside world and leave the bed
that is your island of tranquility shore.
Feeling your mind racing.
Slowly building from a crawl to a run.
Feeling your senses interlacing.
Leaving your house at the velocity of the speed of sound,
like a bullet from a gun.
Chasing a dream.
Hoping for evidence of the unseen.
Seizing every moment of every second,
like riding the energy of a bolt of lightning.
Meaning every word that you say and never holding back
is something that we can’t all do sometimes-
even the sun in the sky is sometimes obscured by cloud,
which stops its rays from shining.
Being where you need to be.
Being with who you need and are meant to be with.
Seeing the things you need to see.
Seeing everything for what it is: a gift.
Remixing the old with the new in your own mind,
and in your daily life.
Fixing the broken as best that you can.
Masking you occasional reactions
with the expressions that people know you by.
Amassing connections that all fit together
to realise the picture of your well-meant and best-laid plans.
Showing yourself for who you are.
Laughing and joking at the unexpected.
Relaxing and shining effortlessly like a star.
Leading, as well as being led.
Standing exposed.
Running for cover.
Making the most of what was chose.
Enjoying every thing about being the road runner.
There are some things
that you just shouldn’t say;
there are some things
that you should just keep to yourself;
there are some wishes that should just stay
thoughts in your head,
and they should stay that way;
there are some things and some dreams and wishes
that you should just never tell.
If you see something you should share it,
if you feel something by all means you should express it-
but words and speech are very powerful things,
and if you do not think before you speak
what you wanted to last and what you always count on
being there might not be there anymore when you look again,
because saying what you said, for whatever reason,
might have accidentally, but always necessarily, and fatefully,
jinxed it.
Sometimes you can think of someone,
someone you haven’t thought about for ages,
and then suddenly and randomly out of nowhere, seemingly,
you see them right in front of you, and all the time;
sometimes you may not want to see a particular person
and they will constantly pop up into view on your timeline.
The world is complicated and fascinating,
and there is always more going on than we can ever know.
The lives of strangers tangle together every second
as we make our way according to the direction
and plan of a universal map and nexus of what
we all need to do and where we all need to go.
Superstitions are not a science of the sort that we know,
but the significance and meaning is tangible and ever-present;
superstitions are not just sayings or ‘old wives tales’ to me,
superstitions are proof of the omni-present,
superstitions are hieroglyphics of language and thought
that cannot so easily be swept-aside or dismissed out of hand,
superstitions are myths and legends that ring true
for a reason- like the promise of an undiscovered country,
or the enduring story and allure of a lost island,
or a far away land.
Be careful what you wish for,
because someone is always listening;
be careful what you say,
because some times the reply that you get back
could be very surprising;
be careful what you do,
because things that you thought were burned and buried
have a way of rising from the flames like a Phoenix;
be careful to think clearly about what you want
and why you want it, and if it means a lot to you
keep you secret to yourself for as long as you can,
because the last thing you want to do is jinx it.
On a morning walk down the city high-streets,
passed countless people, passed shops,
stores, restaurants of all names,
I am stopped in my tracks instantly when I see
a Golden Gunslinger reading a book
while sitting at the foot of a tree.
I’m not sure how long he had been there,
I’m not sure what he was thinking,
but when I looked at him looking down at his book,
to me, the gunslinger looked
as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
and it seemed as if to the gunslinger
the rest of the world could carry on their way
because he was lost in thought, in state,
and frozen in time, but like a performer at a carnival,
the gunslinger sat with a tin pot
just to the left of his right boot
asking politely of his generous passer-by
for a token of interest, fascination, respect,
and a thought to show that they care.
I sat in-awe of the gunslinger on a bench nearby,
and I even took a picture-
I felt like I was looking back in time,
or as if the gunslinger had been transported to the future,
to our present-
and as I sat looking at him, the sun shone brightly on him,
and made him glow even more golden,
and he looked even more amazing than he did before,
and even the sky above looked even more blue.
I thought long and hard about approaching the gunslinger
and putting some money in his pot,
and I wondered what he would do if I did-
would he lower his book? Draw his gun and take a shot?
The incredible living-statue of the gunslinger
that mesmerised me, painted head to toe in gold,
in himself was a work of art-
he was so brilliant to behold,
because as soon as I saw him I was instantly transported
back in time to my childhood,
and my fantasies of wanting to be a cowboy.
The Golden Gunslinger was like a living photograph
of a time of adventure and a reminder of the heroes
and out-laws that fill the stories of the Wild West
that once was in America that for so many
still holds a special place in their heart;
The Golden Gunslinger reminded me of how care-free
and amzing it is to a child, or someone who acts on and follows
their instinctual passions-
whether you are a man, or a woman, a girl, or a boy.
As time caught up with me,
even though in all the time I was sitting there looking at
the gunslinger he did not move an inch,
I realised that it was time for me to move on.
I decided to approach the gunslinger and give him a coin
from my pocket to repay him for his time,
his inspiration, his generosity, and his golden spirit,
and even as I got closer and closer
he still didn’t look up or look away from his book
and didn’t for a second flinch;
and then, as soon as my £2 coin hit the rest of the coins
in his golden pot and made a sound,
The Golden Gunslinger suddenly came alive
and he looked up at me-
he lifted his left hand to touch the rim of his Stetson,
he looked right into my eyes, and I saw him smile
without him having to move his lips at all,
and he bowed his head slightly,
and it was in that moment that I smiled too
in appreciation, and I too began to shine as the sun shone.
As I stepped back the gunslinger reverted back
to the pose in which I first saw him,
and he immediately went back to his prefered-posture
of reading his book, at-ease against the base of his tree;
while I turned to my right and continued to walk down the high-street-
I didn’t look back, but I knew and I was so glad to have met him,
to have given him my time, and for him to have given his time to me
and to everyone who saw him, because he reminded me
in lots of ways of myself, and he was obviously someone
of great patience and a deep-thinker.
I promised myself to capture this moment that would never come again
in as much detail and with as much meaning as I could,
and I also promised that I would never forget
The Golden Gunslinger.
The sun in the sky;
the moon at night;
the planets that some people think
their lives and fates are dictated by;
the stars that have inspired me always,
because their light has been around
since the birth of the galaxy,
and their story has always fascinated me,
and their ability to be both timeless and spent
at the same time gives them a god-like status,
and the gift to be a time traveller, a time machine,
an engine of change, a storyteller, a fortune-teller,
that can tell the future, and inform about the past,
speak volumes, and shine bright.
My mind is always a billion miles away,
I am always taking a ride on an asteroid,
painting with the colours of a beautiful nebula,
and marvelling at the miracle of vibrant
and inspiring distant worlds,
and connecting and imagining the dreams of unseen
and amazing life beyond description every day.
The stars speak to me.
The Earth below my feet holds me.
Life embraces me.
The spectacular sight of a continuous and never-ending
sunrise and sunset and sunrise
is what I love to see.
The story of the entire universe,
and the meaning of all life is in me.
The music that I hear playing and resounding
from the hearts of everyone I know,
and everyone who means something to me,
is the true music of the spheres,
the song of life, the meaning of all life,
light, art, science, religion-
what makes you you, what makes every thing everything,
what makes me me.
The universe is an infinite and wondrous ocean;
the milky-way is a coral reef teaming with life
of all colours, shapes, sizes, description-
some that defy explanation and are beyond words;
life is a complex and intricate web of connectivity;
Earth and its countless population is a shining pearl,
whose miraculous appearance and purpose
is only just discovering its great and incredible potential,
and right now, and always, morphing, changing, evolving,
creating, making, and will one day see, understand,
and share the promise of awakening that we have all been awaiting.
We all have a job to do.
We all have a heart that tells us right from wrong.
We all have to look inside and choose.
We all have to sing our verse of the infinitely-layered,
and unique, universal, orchestral song.
We all have a foot-print to leave, a mark to make-
as long as we remember who we are,
and as long as we stay together,
we all have our own chapter and character interwoven
with that of everyone else and everything else of nature.
We all have times when we are both the traveler
and the interstellar storyteller.
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.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 