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When it’s 4 o’clock in the morning,
and everyone around you is still sound asleep;
when you are up and awake and already imagining,
still dreaming, thinking, creating, writing,
and you feel comfortable to open the door
to the place inside you that leads to your soul,
the place where everything you can imagine
is just waiting to be let out and allowed to run and leap;
when an idea comes to you,
when you can already hear the melody and voice
of a beautiful and exciting new piece of music;
when you feel something that seemed so small once
begin and never stop growing inside you,
the feeling, the experience, the time, you,
are heart-racing, away;
the silence, the noise, the close, the far,
feel like they are all inside you, and connected to you,
and I can tell you that when I have those moments
and I am touched by true inspiration, like I am every day,
it is absolutely breath-taking and epic.
There are times in your life
when you can’t say what you want to say,
because words simply fail you;
there are times when I say everything I want to say with one word-
I realized once that the more powerful thought and idea of anything
can be found when you seek out the far-between and the few.
Never give up on love;
never turn your back on something that means everything;
never doubt your heart,
and never even think to stop the flow of what makes you who you are;
never stop looking, never stop talking,
never stop cooking, never stop doing,
never stop believing, never stop watching;
keep being inspired, keep being inspiring,
keep being too awake to be tired, keep calm,
and do what everyone keeps telling me to do…
keep writing.
Moments of rest and relaxation
are precious in every way, shape and form-
a minute, an hour, a day,
to collect yourself, collect your thoughts,
to think and to feel without intensity,
without a ticking clock above your head,
without any expectations or requirements,
is what we all hope and wish for
at the first light of every dawn.
We all need time to get away,
we all need to go to the place of our dreams,
we all need to play,
we all need to root for our own teams,
we all need to see someone or something beautiful,
we all need to find and talk to someone
who wants nothing more from us than to be kind,
we all need to be hopeful.
No matter who we are or where we are,
we all have a job to do-
if you are at work it is your job to do what you must,
if you are on holiday it is your job to do as little as possible
and to not get involved in a fuss;
if you have a family it is your job to provide;
if you are a peace-maker, a parent,
the person that everyone looks to and relies on
it is your job to see everything from all sides.
Today, I am going to do what I love to do,
what I want to do, and what only I can do;
today, I am going to day-dream and imagine
a life, a world, a reality,
that is both complicated, and simple,
and connected to each other
as a galaxy rotating around a black hole,
and the coffee in its cup as it is stirred;
today, I am going to sit, while still on the move;
today, I am going to live today
like it was my last day on Earth,
and be myself- that you can rest assured.
The truth can be painful,
the road to happiness can be rough,
the less you say sometimes can mean more,
the little things that someone does
can be the most special, precious,
meaningful, and touching, gifts of love.
We protect ourselves and are protected by others all the time,
we are kept in the dark sometimes for a reason
to preserve the peace, to sustain the harmony,
to not harm the sensitive of us
who can sometimes feel like they are the victim of someone
who has committed a crime.
We all surround ourselves and feel ourselves
when we are in the company of those who know
what we are thinking at a moments glance,
we all sing along when we feel the need to,
and we all dance;
we all laugh, and we all cry;
we all do anything to make the things that mean the most to us
last forever and never die.
Without protection of some form,
without something to sometimes hold us back when we need to be,
we would all just run free and run wild like a child,
and rage and self-destruct like the winds of a storm.
If the Earth were not surrounded by a thin and fragile atmosphere
none of us would be here,
if we too never had our reality of serenity
we would all feel and be constantly missing something-
like a man without fear;
if we did not clothe ourselves with the leaves of our colours
we would be as barren and as bare as a winter tree.
We all seek affection.
We all have an addiction.
We all look and ponder at our own reflection.
We all want a little protection.
There are two people in your life
who will always be a part of you every day,
wherever you go, whatever you do-
one of those people is your father, your Dad,
your hero, your strength, the one who will protect you,
defend you, work hard for you all his life;
and the other is your Mother, your Mum,
the first vision of beauty and perfection you ever saw,
and if you are as lucky as me
the kindest, the most caring, the most wonderful,
and the most amazing woman, and role-model,
you will ever be lucky to meet or ever know.
Our parents are the reason we are even alive
and kicking in the first place,
and if it were not for them we would literally
never have been born;
our parents saw our first moment, our first blink,
our first smile, our first adventure into unexplored territory
when we first set out on our own,
even if at first it was merely an exuberant crawl.
Our Mothers always know us better than we know ourselves;
our Mothers always want the best for us;
our Mothers always have an instinct
about what the next thing is going to be to come out of our mouths;
our Mothers always know all the names of the trees in our forest.
The best Mothers in the world would walk over hot coals for their children;
the best Mothers in the world would, and do, sacrifice anything
and everything else for their treasured offspring;
the best Mothers in the world would lay down their life for their child
in front of an oncoming train;
the best Mothers in the world would consider, and do consider,
the life and the happiness of their family their top-priority,
and they embrace every second of being a Mother,
and they love all the joy that honour, privilege, and gift, brings.
My Mum is smart, beautiful, fantastic, and true of heart;
my Mum is vibrant, special, funny, amazing, and unlike anyone;
my Mum is my soul, my friend, my conscience,
and she will be forever as she has been from the start.
My Mum is the greatest Mother, because she is always caring for others
like she always has her entire life,
and I am so lucky to be her son,
and I am the luckiest man in the world
that my Mother is my Mum.
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.
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! 🙂
I put everything into every thing;
I give all my attention to something or someone as much as I can;
I make the most out of every instance,
and I hear and I feel the significance and the difference
in any and every thing;
I believe every word, every song, every action,
every gift, every talent, every touch, every look,
has meaning to it, and that there are life-changing moments of light
and clarity that are a beacon to a new direction you are destined to take,
and not just a flash in the pan.
I am so sentimental.
I never forget a thing.
I love holding on to pieces of the past,
and remembering the actions of people
whose life was torn away from them before their time,
like a constant memorial.
I have a hard time letting go of people who meant something to me
and to this world, who gave so much every day
without a second thought to the recompense their choices would bring,
who would have given all that they could to anyone, to their last.
Everyone is searching for peace.
Everyone wants a little satisfaction once in a while.
Everyone is eager and grateful for some much needed release.
Everyone wants something in their life to make them smile.
That is why people keep so much and never throw anything away,
that is why some people cherish memories, photographs,
messages, and letters, from those who we will never see in the flesh again,
but who still live, and who you can still hear and talk to,
because of the connection that will forever be in what they shared with you-
for some it is what gets them through the hours of every day.
Don’t ever forget a thing.
Don’t ever regret a thing.
Don’t ever forget anyone who touched your heart,
made you smile, made you think, made you dream.
Don’t ever regret any thing that has happened,
because if they never happened you wouldn’t be able to ask
the question of what could have been-
and then not be able to see the amazing journey
that you took to get to where you are from where you started,
and remember all the great things than happened in between.
I never get enough of the intensity and the passion of somebody.
I never get enough of seeing the intensity of someone’s light.
I never get enough of the intensity, the love, that you feel
when you know that the well-being of others is a welcome, full-time, job
for someone, and not just something they can simply pick up
and put down like a hobby.
I never get enough of feeling the intensity of life.
As I look out my bedroom window,
as I watch the wind displace the leaves
as it gusts through the branches of the trees
and makes telephone cables
and power-lines sway from side to side with every blow,
as it seems as if every leaf is now well on the way
to changing colour for the season,
I look down to the street below
and I see a little boy riding his bike
on the pavement outside my house
wearing a big coat and a bobble-hat;
and instantly I feel a wave of something come over me,
as if the winds of time were blowing in unison
with the winds of the world outside, and taking me back
to a time, to an autumn day like this one, when I was a kid-
a time when I loved to play outside with my friends,
and my sister Clare,
and play a ‘catch me if you can-type of game’ called “tag”
in which I never minded being the one who was “it”.
I used to love riding my bike;
I used to love exploring the great place where I lived;
I used to love looking out my window
on a dark, rainy night, and being in awe of the sound of thunder,
and energized by the sight of a lightning-strike;
I used to love playing hide and seek-
and I swear no one could ever find me,
nor think of the right place where I was hid.
I had a very happy childhood;
I had everything a child could ever want;
I had so much love bestowed upon me,
and I was taught so many lessons and I learned so many skills
from my Mum and Dad- from appreciating the value
of the smallest of things, and the briefest of moments,
to the importance of hard work,
and knowing the best way to cut wood.
I remember smiling a lot when I was a child,
I remember laughing, creating, watching,
constantly asking questions, and learning from everyone,
I remember times when I used to sit quietly,
I remember times when I used to run wild,
I remember having so much fun.
I remember the good times, and the bad;
I remember the people I knew and who knew me who just suddenly died,
I remember the times when I had to say goodbye.
I remember all the times when I felt so happy
I thought my heart was going to explode;
I remember the tears that came after a fall,
and the times when I didn’t know what was going on,
and I felt sad.
The world has changed.
I have slowly, but surely, grown up.
The home I have known all my life
feels like a picture that is constantly being reframed.
I am outwardly very different from the boy I was-
from my shoe-size, to my likes and dislikes,
to my hair colour, and hair cut.
Inside I am still the same-
I feel and I know that, even now.
Inside I am under no illusion in my belief
that in everything I do, and to everyone I meet, I make a difference;
I don’t always know why, in what way, or how,
but I do feel, and I have always felt,
like everything that I was doing had a purpose and meant something-
even if I was writing a story, or painting a picture,
even as a child I knew that there was so much more to be seen
than could ever be seen, and that no matter the dark clouds
that sometimes swirled around above your head
there would always be something to have hope for,
that there is always a silver-lining to everything,
and that there would one day be a great,
beautiful, and bright future.
Looking at my own reflection in the glass of my window,
as the sun shines on my face,
I look into my own eyes-
the eyes that have seen thousands of sunrises,
the eyes that have seen so much beauty, hope, and inspiration,
in their time, and which have imprinted on them images
that I will take to the grave,
of sights and faces that nothing could ever erase.
I look at my own reflection,
and I see the boy that I was,
and the joy and the hope in his eyes, in my eyes;
I look at my own reflection, and I see the man who I am,
the boy who I am always going to be,
who still lives in the place, the house, the home,
with the memories he treasures,
and will always remember and return to,
in the middle house of three, on Fair field rise.
There is not a day that goes by
when I do not doubt how lucky I am;
there is not a moment in a day
when I don’t want to see as much as I can-
because, in life, there is always something to do,
somewhere to go, something to learn about others
and yourself that you did not know.
Not everyone has the time, or even the inclination, to stop and think,
or to do something that they have never done-
especially if you have a family to feed, love, and support,
as best that you can, when thinking about others has to be your sole-focus;
but if you can afford, even for a few minutes of every day
to take the time or to make the time
to really see passed the bubble that surrounds you,
and digress to whomever you wish something that is on your mind,
and then watch it grow as the idea becomes too big for you
to continue to repress.
This wonderful world continues to amaze me, faze me,
embrace me, raise me, craze me, at times;
but I am always thinking about it,
I am always learning about it,
I always want the best for it-
however, no one knows what the future will turn-out like,
no one knows how individuals actions
will affect the lives of everyone on our planet-
but to save ourselves from losing ourselves,
to me, everyone- every child, every adult,
every free-thinking person of consciousness and conscience
with the means of speech-
has to be able to have their say.
To me everything that I have thought on and experienced is a day in the life;
but I know that every day, especially today, is not just another day.
Every day of life means something to someone in every way.
Sitting in the park on a beautiful morning,
surrounded by light, life, and sound,
what I am doing feels life-reaffirming,
what I see is phenomenal, stunning, inspiring-
everything feels new, fresh, original, one of a kind,
never been seen before, bright, beautiful, pulse-racing, exciting.
I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want it all to fade-away.
I don’t want to take anything for granted.
I don’t want this to just be another day.
It doesn’t have to be, not if I don’t want it to-
not as long as it is all about the me and the you.
Everyone walks though life at different speeds.
Everyone lives different lives with different needs.
In the city, I see people of all ages and nationalities going about their day:
students coming to and from university,
smart-dressed men and women commuting to work,
children with a day off from school enjoying the sunshine-
as they smile, run-around and play;
kids discovering things with their parents,
parents discovering things about their kids-
from where I am, I see and I embrace
what they will probably never remember or think about
until they get older;
those moments that define a child and a parents relationship with each-other.
It is really nice to see and to read the under-lying language
that only a member of the same family is fluent in and privy to-
those looks and expressions that only they know the meaning of,
which if you are an on-looker it is like a foreign-language,
or a code that you can never know.
You don’t realise how precious time is until you get older
and you see the people and the places that you remember
change beyond recognition;
you don’t realise how much you miss
until someone reminds you of something that you shared together,
that meant so much to you at the time,
but unfortunately got filed-away in the filing-cabinet of your memory-
now only a snap-shot of a moment, which you never meant to ever forget
but which fades over time like an old photograph-
that can be brought back to mind and life
with the help of only the smallest of reminders
and enjoyed again, if it is a good memory,
of a time in your life that you always want to put-away
and rediscover again over and over on a sunny day.
Every day I see someone I have never seen before-
even in places that I have been to a hundred times,
or down roads that I have walked down more times than I can remember.
I see a new face- I see the beginning, the middle,
or perhaps the last chapter of someone’s story-
and every time I share eye-contact with a new person
I cannot help myself from wondering who they are,
who they will be-
I do not judge anyone by how they appear,
because to everyone- even those who you think you know-
there is always more to see.
I cherish the little things about people and about life,
I adore the moments that people freely throw-away without a second thought
that tell you about them- a story that they recite to themselves
when they fall asleep at night.
Sitting seemingly alone on a bench, on a hill,
in a park of untouched green grass,
looking out, looking up, looking within,
I have a moment of ponderance,
and in silence I think about the story that I am writing,
the legacy that I am leaving;
why I am who I am;
why the people and the things that I care so much about
mean so much to me;
why even though I have no one beside me I am not alone-
what that means, and why that is so important to remember.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 