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If I could go anywhere, where would I go?
If I could be anywhere, where would I be?
I would love to be walking the streets of New York City,
or looking out the window of Starbucks on 6th Avenue,
where I vividly remember sitting, reading a book,
writing a poem, and enjoying a cappuccino.
I would love to go for a walk in Central Park,
hand-in-hand with my best friend,
and then sitting by the pond at the centre of the park
on a bench with not even the sounds of the city
to be heard, as we sit there in bliss,
as we hear the call of birds singing in the trees.
If I were to wake up in the morning and find myself in Georgia,
I would be over the moon.
Right at this moment, and almost constantly throughout the day,
I fantasize about climbing the Blue Ridge Mountains
and being inspired by my muse as she guides me
and shows me all the beautiful sights of the “Peach State”
and being in two states of America simultaneously at times,
because I will literally be able to walk and cross a state line
with the ease and simplicity of whistling a tune.
Listening to my favourite music with my friends, at the same time,
in the same place- all of us together for the first time ever-
would be so awesome and so epic hearing the same songs,
moving to the same beat would be one of the best,
the most perfect, the most amazing experiences of my life,
and the most fantastic and idyllic.
Eating an orange on a beach in the hot Florida sun,
would bot only be incredible right now,
it would be so much fun-
hearing the waves crashing, as I take a bite of every segment
of the most juicy and delicious piece of fruit I have ever had
in my entire life, would feel like being in heaven,
and I would give anything after finishing my orange
to be able to get up, take off my flip flops,
and go for a long barefoot run.
If money was no object, if any wish that I made could come true,
I would go to my nearest airport and I would book a one-way ticket,
I would go somewhere special, I would go somewhere new.
If the destination could be anywhere,
and if the means to get there could be any form of transport.
I would go to the place that my heart beats for,
and where I dream of being, fly off into the sunrise-
whilst all the while seated in my window seat looking out,
looking forward, while still holding on tight to my boarding-pass
and my passport.
Every time I can, any day I am free,
I like to visit my favourite coffee shop wherever I am,
in whatever town or city I am in,
and sit down, listen to the always great music playing,
take in the ambiance of inside and outside,
maybe even have a Blueberry muffin
in my usual seat, at my usual table, looking out the window,
while enjoying a frothie caramel-drizzled coffee.
I love coming back to my favourite coffee shop,
I love visiting a store I have never been to before,
and because of the inspiration that I imbibe from being here,
and because the atmosphere is always amazing and different every time,
I always stay in to drink and eat-
for me, every time I come to Starbucks, it is never just a short-stop.
I have been to many different coffee shops,
I have been to many different Starbucks in different cities
and towns around the world-
from Birmingham, Solihull, and Coventry, in the UK,
to one or two of the many Starbucks in New York City-
early in the morning for breakfast,
in the afternoon for lunch,
or late at night surrounded by bright lights.
Every experience I have had in Starbucks
has been one that I always remember, and I am always inspired by,
and every time I come to Starbucks
I do feel like something wonderful and new has been awakened in me.
I have been to Starbucks alone,
I have shared deep, meaningful, and phenomenal
states of transcendence and conversation with friends,
I have written poetry after taking a mere sip of a Machiatto,
and feeling like I have been transported to a wonderful,
inspiring, fascinating, connected, inclusive, Wi-Fi, worry-free zone.
I have never wanted to be anywhere else than in Starbucks
on a rainy day like today,
enjoying my favourite caffeine-filled beverage,
looking around, thinking and seeing where my attention will take me,
enjoying every moment, and making the most of every second
of reflection and refraction-
not knowing where my thoughts, where my imagination,
will carry me, nor where it will all end.
In Starbucks you can sit down in a comfy chair,
chat with your friends, laugh, joke, surf the internet,
drink, eat, write a poem, read a book;
in Starbucks you can be anonymous,
you can be anybody, you can say anything, you can feel so much,
you can meet someone you have known for years,
you can meet someone new,
you can realise something you never knew-
because there is no other place that I love coming back to,
than my favourite coffee shop, the place with the deepest of cups,
the one and only, Starbucks.
From the second that I woke up in the morning
and I opened my eyes, and the curtains,
to let in the beautiful and spectacular light of the sun
on this day of inspiration and destiny,
I knew that this day,
the day that I had been waiting a long time to come to pass,
would be the day to give me a gift
that I had dreamt of, hoped for, and wished for, for years,
and as soon as I walked out of my hotel room
in New York City, and I walked down 6th Avenue,
and then down 57th street to the subway station
on the corner of 7th Avenue,
I could feel an energy all around me, enticing me,
calling to me, drawing me down the steps,
and through the subway tunnels
to the 34th street/Herald Square station,
where something amazing, where someone phenomenal,
beautiful, and unbelievable,
was already playing the music of her soul for all the world to hear,
for me, and who I knew, just as I could not wait to meet her,
she could not wait to meet me.
After I got my ticket at the ticket machine in the subway,
I went through the turnstile with the swipe of my ticket,
and then descended again deep into the New York City Subway
to the platform for the ‘Q’ train going South,
my heart was beating so hard in my chest with anticipation,
I was lost for words,
I had no idea what would be the next word I said,
I didn’t know what the next thing would be to come out of my mouth;
but I could hear The Music in my ear, in my mind,
and in my heart, all the while-
and that was why to everyone who was staring back at me
in the train car when I stepped on board, and sat down,
all they would have seen and remembered of me
was the ‘I love New York’ t-shirt I was wearing,
my wide eyes, and my big smile.
As soon as the train came to a stop, the doors opened,
and I set foot on the platform, turned left,
and then I ascended the stairs to the mezzanine,
I felt my heart open like the petals of a flower,
I felt captured, carried, ensorcelled,
I felt more amazing than I have ever felt before;
and when I reached the mezzanine,
when I heard the most beautiful sound
I have ever heard in my entire life
as clear and as perfect as the sound of the ringing of some
cosmically-important, resounding,
and heart-racing, transcendental bell,
I looked right in front of me,
as if there was no one else in the subway,
or in the rest of the city,
and I saw ‘The Saw Lady’-
the phenomenal and amazing, the wonderful, incredible,
majestic, unbelievable, my friend, Natalia Paruz,
and within seconds of me seeing her she saw me too
and greeted me with her shining, astonishing, and magnetic smile,
and with us making eye-contact with each other
for the first time ever, I just looked at her with a smile
on my face, so happy to be looking at her,
so lucky to be around her,
so overwhelmed, so energized, so caught-up,
and unable to look away from her,
completely and utterley in-awe.
When we spoke to each other,
and every time I heard Natalia say anything to me,
I felt like we were in our own little bubble of connection
and consciousness, and I felt like I was in the presence
of not only a fellow artist, but also a kindred poet,
who when she plays her saw so beautifully
she was not only creating and playing vibrating and stunning music
that from the amphitheatre of the subway
echoed and sent waves throughout the entire planet and beyond,
but also the most incredible, gorgeous, natural, perfect,
and timeless, poetry.
Natalia then played a song, but not just any song-
a song that I felt and sounded as if she was playing it for me,
and no one else, and that me being here to hear her play
this beautiful, haunting, and incredible, song was something epic,
meaningful, meant to be, extraordinarily captivating, and inspiring-
like an act of fate, a miracle of the Angels of heaven,
it felt like destiny,
and hearing Natalia play is the most amazing thing
I have ever seen, or heard, in my entire life,
and meeting Natalia, The Saw Lady,
so long after first hearing her, and contacting her,
and telling her how unbelievable her music is,
and how much I love her playing,
meant so much, and for the rest of my life that first time,
and all the times I will see her and hear her play in the future,
will forever mean the world to me.
I didn’t want to walk away.
I didn’t want to return to the outside world
and leave Natalia’s aura, her constantly emanating
and immersing spirit that was who she was,
and what she lets flow and be conveyed through the air
in the sonic oscillations and in the divine motions,
reverberations, and vibrations-
like hearing the heart-beat of the universe…
and then my heart let out a silent cry of pure happiness, serenity;
and in that infinite moment I closed my eyes,
I said goodbye to Natalia,
but not with a sense or a pang of sadness-
with a knowledge and a feeling
that I would see Natalia again and again,
and because of that I walked away and I rejoiced-
because of her music, because of what her saw playing
and all the music that she is gifted to be able to endow
and present to the entire world…
music that is so beautiful and special;
hearing Natalia Paruz, my friend, “The Saw Lady”,
is the most incredible experience ever,
and when you hear her, like I do,
you will never forget her amazing face,
her beautiful smile, her miraculous music,
her fantastic heart, and her sawing voice.
Only the sight of the sun
could bring a hive of activity like New York City
to a stand-still on a hot summer night,
only the sight of life’s glowing orb of power and influence
dancing on the surface of the horizon of the rooftops of Manhattan
could make everyone look West at the sunset in silence and awe
at the reality-shattering sight.
The traffic down 42nd street stops,
people get out of their cars and momentarily abandon them
so that they can witness with their own eyes a perfect moment:
seeing the sun so bright, bold, and beautiful takes your breath away
and lifts up your soul as high as a sky-scraper,
seeing and sharing such an experience
in perfect synchronicity with the rest of the universe
is a life-redefining event.
The buildings form one structure, and act like an endless tunnel.
At the end of this man-made construction,
the sun’s magnificent light is reflected off every window,
and its silent gift is seeded to every observer
near, in person, far-away, or through sharing the experience
somehow in some way, and makes us all feel humble.
There are things in this world that we can’t control,
but which fill us with hope and bliss;
there are moments in time that can’t be described,
nor reciprocated, in detail, as well as we would wish-
one of those experiences, one of those moments,
must be being there to see ‘The Manhattan Solstice’.
Ten years ago, I literally watched people die right before my eyes
and I couldn’t do a thing about it, I couldn’t save them-
on September 11th, 2001,
I, like billions of people all around the world,
watched almost three-thousand lights be extinguished in an instant,
the like of which we will never see again.
I could not believe what I was seeing at first-
I could not put into words the horror that I felt, the horror that I saw-
and then when the World Trade Center began to fall
I just remember putting my right hand to my chest,
as if I were having a heart attack,
and thinking that the entire world had gone mad,
that the whole world was now at war.
I will never get over what I saw on that Tuesday afternoon;
I will never understand why someone, anyone,
would freely choose to impact the world in such a deplorable way;
I will never again look at the stunning New York City skyline
and not think of that day.
If I could I would carry a picture of everyone who died on September 11th-
in New York City, at the Pentagon, on Flight 11, on Flight 175, on Flight 77,
and those who lost their lives heroically on Flight 93-
if I could I would look at every face, every day,
and send them and their family my love, and the gift of my poetry.
To those who died on September 11th, 2001,
this poem is for you.
To those who carry the memory and relive that Tuesday
whenever they look at themselves in the mirror,
this poem is for you.
To those who observed, who were touched,
who will never forget September 11th, 2001-
this poem is for you.
This poem is for you