My Poem ‘Godiva’

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.

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My Poem ‘O.M.G.’

I have probably said this a billion times in my life already,
but I swear that there is never a day that goes by
when life does not inspire, amaze, and surprise me-
every day I learn something new,
I see someone I have never seen before,
and if I am lucky my entire life is changed forever
in ways that not even I have the gift
to be able to describe and encapsulate in poetry.

Every day I am struck by a revelation about life,
the world, the universe, that electrifies me like a bolt of lightning,
and which fulfills a prophecy that I have had, seen, felt,
believed was one day going to come true,
and there are some days when my world feels like
it has been turned upside down-
but in a brilliant, magical, wonderful, way
that is unparalleled by anything else,
that goes beyond surprising,
and is incredibly exciting, and not for a second frightening-
which is incredibly enlightening, empowering, igniting,
like a spark, like a fuse-
which makes me feel like I am daily, hourly,
rocketing to the moon.

There are moments in every day, in every experience,
in every conversation with someone,
in every moment of noise, in every period of silence,
in every time of solitude, when I am touched by something
that takes my breath away, and literally makes me go WOW!
The things I see, the things I hear,
make me sometimes shed a silent tear
at living the life I live and being the person
that some people can only be when they are dreaming.

There is a reason for everything that happens;
there is a path, a plan, for us all;
there is something unexplainable and infinite
that makes life, and us all who we are,
and in the end everything that we see and feel
is like a sculpture, or a castle, on a beach
made entirely of sand;
there is a message being constantly broadcast to us
for us to read, interpret, and reply to in our own way
like answering a phone-call.

Nothing is accidental,
everything is a part of something more than at first it might appear;
having a feeling a connection with someone is natural;
you have to act on your instincts when what you feel
with every fibre of your being comes to you loud and clear.

Every day I have Original Moments of Great importance and significance;
every day I have Occurrences of Mystic Gloriousness;
every day I have Outstanding, Marvelous, Gifts
given to me- like a knighthood presented to someone
by a king or a prince;
every day I stop, I take a step back, in wonder and in-awe,
and out-loud people hear me say:
Oh My God, or Oh My Goodness.

My Poem ‘A Water-drop in the Cosmic Sea’

Like the moment when you first open a book
and you read the dedication on the first few pages;
like the moment when the clouds above you in the sky at night
clear and reveal the distant and beautiful stars;
like the first thing you see and feel
when you first meet someone
who you have been waiting to meet for ages;
like the experience and revelation that you live through
in a split-second when you look at someone
and right-away you feel as if you know them
and have seen yours and their future coming in clearly-
like a photograph from the surface of Mars;
like a water-drop in a cosmic sea
we are always creating ripples in the world
and in each other’s lives,
and I am constantly being touched by the effect of people
who live beyond the horizon, who do amazing things every day
that always get back to me.

Thank goodness for books.
Thank goodness for connectivity.
Thank goodness for shared memories and experiences
of first touches and first looks.
Thank goodness for divine poetry.
Thank goodness for the heroes we hear about
but will never know personally.
Thank goodness for stories told literally, orally, visually,
with heart, soul, and love,
that are constantly being sent out for other to find
like a message in a bottle that washes ashore
after being carried for miles across the sea.
Thank goodness for finding something new to talk about
everywhere we go.
Thank goodness for awesome and deep music that takes us away.
Thank goodness for everyone who comes our way.

Every day I drop my stone into the cosmic water,
I dream, and I make a wish;
every day I cast my line out far and wide
like I am trying to catch a fish;
every day I send out a signal and I listen for a reply
to come in via my psychic satellite dish.

Writing, to me, is like breathing.
Reading, to me, is like inhaling.
Experiencing, to me, is like dreaming.
Seeing, to me, is believing.
Talking, to me, is like walking.
Proposing, to me, is the end of all of your searching,
when you know you have found the one person in the entire world
who you believe was born beautiful and who is like a miracle
in every way, and who will never need perfecting.

Pull over to the side of the road once in a while,
look up at the sky, and dare to dream
and wish upon the star in the sky burning brightly
for your entire life that is the sun,
enjoy the good things that happen in life,
and endure the bad, and if possible find every
and any moment to have fun.
Go to a vast lake, stand on the coast of a deep ocean-
look out and don’t be afraid to see who and what you want to see,
look up to the infinite, unexplainable, and beautiful,
and feel like you are an important piece of an epic puzzle
that connects you to everything and links everything to you,
and know that you yourself are both a deep and sparkling ocean,
as well as a magical and influential water-drop in a cosmic sea.

My Poem ‘The Path’

When I first began on the path
I was like the statue that I was standing next to;
when I first looked at what I could see before me,
I couldn’t see anything or anyone-
but at the same time I felt this draw,
I felt the edge of this wave coming towards me,
as if the path were a river,
or like the wind outside an open door;
I felt something in the cold air that took my breath away from me-
like the chill that you feel from a draft.
I knew that I either had to close the door or walk through it,
or perhaps turn back and walk away;
and then, right then, I heard you, I saw you,
I knew I had to be where you were,
but I knew you were not at the end of the path- you couldn’t be-
because that would be impossible;
but I have never believed anything is truly impossible,
and I have never, and will never, give up hope on anything or anybody ever;
and that was when all my answers came to me.

The sun was above me and behind me,
and its light guided my way and made the path shimmer and glow.
The trees that lined the path on either side
moved and jostled in unison for a second,
and as they did, for an instant, I could have sworn
that I was somewhere else, in another place, at another time-
like I was reliving a memory,
but which I didn’t recognise as being mine,
it felt like someone else’s thought,
it felt like yours-
and that was when I knew I had to walk the path.
I could see the end that awaited me,
and I knew where I had to go.

It had been raining earlier,
and there was still a slight and fine mist in the air.
As the rays of golden light from the sun
bounced off the wet ground rainbows appeared
and veiled the path in every colour of the spectrum;
and that was when I felt caught and pulled,
as if by a current, or as if the very ground beneath me
was moving by itself and taking me along with it.
Walking the path as it appeared now made me think,
feel, and experience the sensation of walking
through a hall of mirrors at a fun fare.

I heard nothing but the sound of a slight breeze through the trees,
but there was also this faint echo
that seemed to be getting loauder and stronger
the farther I walked and the closer I got to there end of the path-
the echo was a voice, your voice;
the drumming I felt was my own heart beating.
As I passed the empty black painted benches with the brown wooden seats,
I thought for a second I could see someone sitting there
looking at me, or reading, or listening to their own music-
like impressions, echoes, or shadows in the sunlight,
left and preserved forever-
like a moment of emotion and contenment captured in time,
that may fade but wont ever be forgotten
and will draw back those who made those impressions
to this spot, time and again.

As I neared the end of the path,
I felt lost and consumed by the flow of energy all around me-
and like when you swim out to sea,
I felt compelled to turn back and look at the path behind me,
and in that moment that was when I literally felt your vibration,
because that was when I saw, realized, and then read
a message from you that you had just sent me-
and in that message was a picture of your smiling face
that you wanted to share with me,
and also a text from you telling me that you love me.

I instantly replied to you with a photo of me smiling
on the path in the park and a message from me
that ‘I love you too’, and as soon as I sent you that message
there was a blinding flash of light,
and as I turned around to look at the rest of the path in front of me
I saw that the path didn’t end as near or as soon as I originally thought,
and I suddenly had this epiphany that these next few steps
in the beautiful sunlight were not my, or our, last;
and I saw that there wasn’t an end or a definitive finish line
to where I was, where I am going, so that is why I kept going,
looking, feeling, and smiling, as I continued to walk the path.

My Poem ‘Coins’

Today for some is just another day-
it is a day, a moment, a place, a venue,
an instrument, a microphone,
to do, to say, to play,
something worth doing and hearing
that everyone is desperate and clamoring to hear,
and it is the religion and the god to whom they pray.
The religion of truth, the god of one,
the reason for the importance of energy and youth,
the enduring message of legacy and constantly evolving ages of wisdom.

In this day and age the best way to share what you have made and created,
and to make yourself heard is to record, film, copy,
and upload to the internet for all the worlds ears to hear,
and for all the worlds eyes to see-
wherever you are in the world you can watch, listen, enjoy,
and be moved by something beautiful
made by someone in their bedroom, or their home studio,
or anywhere where someone has been touched by inspiration,
and moved by the feeling and the energy of the moment,
to set the fire in their heart burning bright and burning free.

For centuries, poets have written, musicians have played,
singers have sung, for their own fulfillment of spirit and life,
but I promise you everyone has always wanted to share
with as many people as possible their poetry, their music,
their voice- so as to commune with another a universal knowledge,
message, and light.
Artists will forever seek any way, avenue,
stage, screen, page, and canvas,
to display their stunning and wonderful masterpiece
of a greater masterpiece of a life, a time,
that is part of the poetry, the music, the voice of all life,
that everyone plays a part in making it what it is-
and it will never end, and that thought is what excites me so much,
and of all the miracles of the universe that is the most epic and sublime.

I watch a street performer play his guitar.
I watch people from every direction, hear, approach,
and repay the talented musician for sharing his gift with everyone.
I watch and I feel the amazing voice and the music of the guitar player
permeate and connect and remind people, even children,
how wonderful music is and what it can do.
I watch and I see why he performs in the first place-
he doesn’t do it for the coins in his guitar case,
he does it because it is what he and everyone loves and enjoys.

My Poem ‘Cards’

There is no greater thing to give,
and there is no greater thing to receive,
there is no greater expression
that you are thinking of someone, than a card-
especially this time of the year;
to me, there is something special,
more so than any gift or present of any size,
about the knowledge that people are in each other’s thoughts
no matter where they live, nor the reality that they don’t talk
or see each other as much as they used to anymore;
to me, knowing that I have picked and written in a card for someone,
and that someone has picked and written in a card especially for me,
means something to me, and because I am who I am
I read light-years into every word, and I pay especial focus and attention
to the ever-present poetry.

I love taking the time to make a card.
I love sitting down while thinking about the person I am writing to,
and letting my feelings and emotions flow from me
and become imbued in the ink that I am writing in.
I love having the gift to be able to express so easily
what others sometimes find hard.
I love retracing my own footprints
and reuniting with old memories of friends and family
at special moments of our shared lives together,
and remembering and reliving those things we have seen,
and returning to the place where we have been.

There is a card for every occasion.
There is a card for everyone.
There is a card to be made in everyone’s imagination.
There is a card to be created that can be a simple sentence
and sentiment that even though it may only be short
can be what you really want to say in a way
that is the culmination of elation, affection, explanation,
and liberation, that needs no translation.

Messages are precious. Time is finite.
What we say sometimes is fast, frenetic,
unforgettable, and often times in a rush.
How we spend our days and hours is often split and divided
between different relationships with very different people that we know,
and it is sometimes hard to know where you are
until you turn out the light at night.

To me, a card- a birthday card, a Christmas card,
a postcard, a get well card, an anniversary card-
is a great and a wonderful thing,
because it is an opportunity, a place, a way,
a method, and a means, that is more special and means more
than a text message, an email, or a phone call-
for some that is the only way they have to reach out
and make contact with someone,
and those messages and calls mean the world,
and being able to share something, anything,
from one person to another is so incredible.

The right card to send someone and the right thing to write inside
can take a lot of thought, but it shouldn’t have to be a science
and it doesn’t have to be a masterpiece of art.
The right message and remark does not have to be the most amazing
and poetic declaration ever written, or ever said-
as long as what you really want to communicate is there for anyone
and all to see and read by anybody who sends, receives,
opens, writes, and reads, something in a card.

My Poem ‘Language’

To me, language is the single greatest invention of all time.
To me, the ability to be able to communicate on multiple-levels,
in many great and wonderful ways, is life at its prime.

The power of language, what it can do, what it has done,
has given rise to everything on Earth-
from the creation of all life on our planet,
to the next steps in human evolution as we know it, and beyond;
language will go on forever, its journey will never end;
language is in a perpetual state of rebirth.

The reason why language will never die
is because it is always re-inventing itself-
it never stops, it never tires;
language reverberates through the air like a shockwave,
and travels at the speed of light between peoples, cultures,
instinct, and consciousness, every nanosecond of every day,
transmitting on every frequency through the atmosphere, and back again,
and down incalculable lengths of cables and wires.

Language fills our world, language built our world,
language maintains our world, and is the source
of our collective well-being.
Humanity is absolutely besotted, obsessed,
and could not live without language-
we love to find new ways of saying things
that have already been written about and said countless times;
sometimes we like things spelled-out perfectly for us
so that there is no confusion,
and at other times we like to simplify things as much as we can
by abbreviating.

Music has been heralded as the “universal language”,
because of how it makes us feel
and because of how it can communicate,
sometimes centuries after it was first written, created, sung, and played,
an expression, a feeling, a message, a moment in time,
of a musician, a singer, a song-writer, or an artist,
that has been captured to out-live and endure beyond it’s inception.
When you hear a song or a piece of music being played
again and again, over and over;
when you hear a song when you are a child
and people are still playing that same song on the radio
when you have children of your own,
you know that that song, whatever it is, is special-
it has a life-span and a longevity and a power to it
that stays and will stay with our children and their children to come
as they grow older.

Language is everything.
Language is on every billboard, on every sign,
on every TV show, on every street.
Language is the reason for every letter, for every email,
for every message, for every text, for every tweet.
Language is every face, every person,
every piece of clothing, every style.
Language is every look, every thought,
every tear, every smile.

Language is constantly evolving.
Language is not in decline, language is not dying.
Language is asking questions of itself and the world, everyday,
and it is perpetually problem-solving.
Language is the foundation of every pattern,
the needle that guides and sews the thread of every stitch.
There is nothing more amazing in the entire universe
than the magic that is language.

My Poem ‘The Astronomer’

The sun is going down in the west,
and yet new light dawns in the wake of the setting of the sun-
light that has been veiled to the naked eye by the blue-sky
appears on the horizon,
as astronomers decipher the message of the constant sky at night,
that will one day launch humanity on its never-ending quest.

Looking up at the stars, from the ground, with a telescope,
on Earth, or in orbit, looking out of a window,
you quickly become aware that what you are seeing
is not everything that there is-
what you are seeing is the last image of a changing universe,
and the stars that you see above are echoes in its after-glow.

When we look up at the stars,
we are witnessing the history and the evolution of all life, everywhere;
when I look up at the beautiful dark night sky,
I feel invigorated by what I cannot see-
just the thought of what could be out there, what we know is out there,
magnifies my vision through the lens of my imagination,
and compels me more with every stare.

We, humanity, are an ensemble of watchers, listeners,
readers, and astronomers,
who are all searching for something,
so that we may make sense of the perfection disguised as chaos
that is our universe-
for most, the most amazing discovery of life
is that everything that has every been created, beyond our understanding,
is greater and more complicated to completely revolve around us.

I like to think of us all as snowflakes created in a cloud
that slowly fall to Earth and are carried on the wind,
before finally settling on a snow-covered floor;
and as we descend, at times,
some of us look up to where we have come from,
and some of us look down to where we were seeded,
before eventually restarting the cycle all over again-
each time progressing our understanding of each-other
and quenching our desire to learn more,
which is a testament to our teachers:
those who inspire us to look inward and project outward;
those who encourage us to keep looking up,
even though they are no longer with us, who will always inspire us,
like the late, great, astronomer,
Sir Patrick Moore.

Dedicated to Sir Patrick Moore, 1923-2012

My Poem ‘Message In A Bottle’

Barefoot, at dawn,
in the soft sun-bathed sand of the beach,
I left my footprints in the sand for others to follow-
hoping to learn, hoping to teach.

As I looked into and out to the beautiful, perfect, blue sea,
I was touched by inspiration, a blessing,
a shine of creativity, a muse of poetry.

I felt like I had received a message from someone,
and I felt this need to send one back-
and that is what I decided to do,
while standing looking out to the clear blue horizon,
as the white ocean waves crashed against my legs,
as I could feel the warm sun on my back.

So I took an empty bottle from my bag.
I took out a piece of paper with my name, my address,
a link that someone could use to contact me again later,
and an invitation for someone in the future to read my poetry,
and to reconnect with me.
I put the piece of paper in the bottle,
and then I sent my message and my bottle out into the blue,
and I watched them be carried out to sea.

As my message in a bottle was carried further and further out,
I watched it with hope in my heart
that someone would one day find it, read it, and understand it;
but I just know that they will, I know it beyond any doubt
that the message, the wish, the muse of me
would be seen, read, and felt, by another, and another, and another,
until we are all part of the same verse of poetry.

Who knows to where my message will go,
who knows how far it will travel,
who knows if my message will dance the waves fast or slow,
who knows whether my message will be read in France,
back in England, or wash up on the coast of Portugal.

I have no idea where the tides will take my voice,
but I have hope that whomever it finds
they will choose to follow the footsteps that I left on the beach,
on the sea, and on the sky,
and in the gift to be found by someone I have never met,
one day in my message in a bottle.

My Poem ‘It’s Time’

There are moments in our lives that feel like our entire life
has been waiting for them to come to pass,
moments that defy description, explanation, contemplation, and time,
that mean so much to us there message is as clear as glass.

Moments that visit us to deliver a direction, a feeling,
an insight of light to guide our way to our hour of attainment and growth,
that strike at the bell that first tolled at our birth,
that will ring again for the last time at our final moment,
that connects and bounds both.

There are times in our lives
when we feel like all the answers to every question we have ever posed
are right in front of us and ready for our time and understanding;
times that take us to the limit of our experience and knowledge,
which then ask of us to feel and imagine
the entire universe in a single moment,
and then watch it expanding.
Times that fill our minds with visions of truth,
voices from our lives, feelings of happiness, pangs of pain,
that call upon you to accept the choices of others that have impacted on you,
and to stand-tall against the downpour of destiny’s rain.

There are times in our lives when we are looking at ourselves in a mirror
and the only reflection we see is the one we wish we had seen
when we were a child-
a portal to the future that shows us at a moment of openness, clarity;
happy, content, beguiled.

There are moments in our lives that change everything about us,
that rocket us into orbit around our world
and show it to us at it’s most sublime.
I live for those moments that show me what awaits me;
and right this instant, I think that it’s time.