My Poem ‘Jinx’

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.

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My Poem ‘Ritual’

We all have our own personal rituals;
we all have our own unique quirks
that have meaning for us which we repeat,
because they give our lives balance,
because they connect the dots in our mind
to where we need to be;
we all have our own habits and routines
that are seemingly monumentally crucial;
we all have our own ways of being
that say to the world ‘this is me’.

Some people can’t think straight, nor concentrate,
without their first cup of tea or coffee every morning;
some people feel lost and unable to function
if they don’t have that first sight of the sun,
that sings to them with the power and the voice,
and the music of their favourite artist or band performing.
Some people find it hard to get out of bed
without having something out of their reach
to take a necessary, vital, step towards;
some people feel at their best when everything makes perfect sense,
because everything we see and feel conforms
to the structures of perfection and bliss that we know,
which we take the time to build and keep standing every day
like a house of cards.

Familiarity is very important.
Our trust in what we know works for us every time
is something we hold on to tight-
walking the same route that we know,
wearing the same clothes that we feel comfortable in,
going to the same places over and over again
that like a ghost we regularly haunt,
becomes not just something that we do, but a way of life.

It is fascinating to observe, and to see in my own reflection,
what we all do, and why.
I love glimpsing a idiosyncrasy that I have never seen before-
whether it is one of someone I have never met,
or one of my own that I couldn’t hide, disguise,
or say I do not do it for a reason, because that would be a lie.

Some rituals are hereditary-
passed on from father to daughter, or from mother to son;
some daily routines of ours are like rites of passage for us,
and feel more to us than a simple custom.
Some rituals come slowly to us and grow naturally with us,
and are things that we look forward to doing-
like sitting in a coffee shop writing,
or going to the cinema to watch a movie,
or returning to our favourite shops,
or going back to the places where we have the strongest memories
and the happiest of recollections,
or eating your favourite meal at your favourite restaurant
at your favourite table, with your favourite people,
or going to a concert to listen to your favourite music.

Rituals are a daily prescription for everyone,
rituals are our key to deciphering
the finer details of life’s blueprint,
rituals are what people sometimes remember us by the most-
like a part of our aura that stays with people,
like a characteristic residual.
Rituals are what makes us human.
Rituals are there always in everything and everyone.
Their is no one alive now that I know and see
every second of every day who doesn’t have a ritual.

My Poem ‘First Day’

That feeling in your stomach is unmistakable,
that pounding in your chest is hard to stop,
that cloud between your ears is slow to clear,
but when you finally arrive and start your job
on your first day it doesn’t take long
to find your feet and feel comfortable-
whether your job is in an office,
in a restaurant, in a factory,
at an airport, on your feet, behind a desk,
or being their to help and assist
lots of different customers in a shop,
it doesn’t take long for your natural gifts to take over
and for all the butterflies that have been fluttering
in your stomach to disappear.

You never forget the first day of your first job,
you never forget how much that first day
becomes a blur of many different emotions
that if you let them all get the better of you
it wont take you long to say you are never going to learn
all that you have been taught and told,
and you will probably even want to go to a corner and sob;
but if you don’t do that, if you don’t give up
even after making the first ten of the many
natural and necessary mistakes that you and everyone always make,
the more you will gain confidence and feel at-ease
in what you are doing, and in your own abilities,
and you will come to the conclusion
that what at first you thought was hard
and incapable of being learned
is actually a piece of cake.
The more you do something the more it becomes second-nature to you,
the more you work at what you know, the more comfortable you become,
and every time you start back at work after a day off
it will be like stepping back into an old pair of shoes.

For some people their first job is the job they have always wanted;
for some people, especially those who have just left school,
their first job is just the first step up a hill
to where they are supposed to be;
for some people their first job is their passion
and the thing that they do that they love
and have dreamed about doing since they were a kid;
for some people their first job is but the seed
that will one day grow and bare the fruit that will never stop
providing for their family, and feed all the branches that stem
and grow from you into your life’s tree.

Your first day of school is always the day you want to forget;
your first day of college or university
goes by so fast and you may not remember it all,
because your mind feels like it is traveling
at a thousand miles an hour in a supersonic jet;
your first day of work is like you are acting out
and saying the lines of an actor in a play;
your first day is the day you should try your hardest to remember,
because it can only get better afterwards-
so remember, your best day, in whatever it is that you do,
is always going to be your first day.