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Sometimes you have to wait for things you really want;
sometimes you have to do all the hard work
and then sit back and be patient;
sometimes to see the fruits of your labour and passion
you have free yourself of any expectations,
so that what you put that effort into will truly count;
sometimes you have to leave things alone
and let things settle, dry, and be as they should,
like wet paint.
Everything needs time to cook;
everything needs time to come together naturally,
everything needs time to coagulate, be framed,
be bound tightly like the pages and cover of a book;
everything needs time to grow into what it is meant to be.
Different influences,
different sights,
different sounds,
different people,
different encounters,
make a piece of art,
make a creation,
make a life,
make a person,
and sometimes they can all be focused
into one perfect moment, or one perfect and amazing gift;
waiting for the right time can be all that is necessary
to pull together the dividing sides of a rift.
Having the will to hold on,
having the belief to not lose faith,
having the strength to carry on,
having the vision you rely on
to keep standing and keep going, can be hard
but when it all becomes real and tangible,
and you can actually hold what you have wanted in your hands,
everything that came before and all you had to do
to get where you are is eclipsed
and everything and you feel incredible, invincible, and great.
There is nothing worse than a ticking clock
that when you are waiting for the time to fly
moves slowly as if the seconds, minutes, and hours,
are not even moving at all;
there is nothing worse for the mind, the heart,
and the senses, than the time to think,
because sometimes you can think too much,
and you end up building and living behind a wall.
Counting down; seeing the next direction to take;
navigating without a map; making the choices
and embracing the mistakes that are not really mistakes
that you have to make,
are all a part of the adventure of a life-time
that is like Earth-bathing and Earth-gazing
a quarter of a million miles away on the surface of the moon.
The best of things are born into life slowly but surely,
meaningfully and poetically,
and we can all rest assured that phenomenal new adventures
are on the horizon, and are coming soon.
I have never been able to hide my feelings,
I have never been successful in disguising my emotions,
I have never been able to figure out
how not to have everything I am thinking
written all over my face,
I have never been good at realising who and what
it is people observe about me in what they are seeing,
I have never been able to wear a mask of my own face,
because my expressions are apparently so blatant
they change more frequently and are more noticeable
than waves of an ocean,
I have never been eye to eye with someone
and worn an expression that was the opposite
of what I was feeling on the inside-
like the winner of a card game,
who is able to bluff better than anyone else
because they have the greater poker face.
I am a very open person in some ways,
but not in every way;
however, my face paints a picture of my thoughts
and contorts like no one else;
I do not reveal every detail of my heart,
but when it comes to sharing as much of me as possible
via involuntarily manifested external emotions,
I am as transparent as a cell.
Being so noticeable and open has got me into a lot of trouble
and has allowed people to read me whenever they want to like a book-
people have told me that they know exactly what I am thinking
from seeing my reaction to something they said with a single look.
When I am sad, everyone knows.
When I am happy, I let it show.
When I am thinking about something,
it is as if others can see the hemispheres of my brain sparking.
When I am angry, people can see in me
that I am ready to strike and burst with energy
of the power and the electricity of a bolt of lightning.
Everything about me is plain to see.
Everything that I think about is as deep and as vast as outer space.
Everything about what is on my mind,
I am sure people can read and have read
without me having to say a word or write a single line of poetry.
Everything that you want to know is there every second
and written all over my face.
There are times when you feel you have to get away;
there are times when you need to have a change of scenery;
there are times when the weight of reality
can feel too heavy;
there are times when there is only one thing
you can do, and one place you can go,
to bring you back down to Earth,
and which has always been and always will be
your sanctuary for reasons you could never
share or ever say.
For some people their escape can be a dream
that they imagine and remember;
for some people their escape can be somewhere
filled with people, music, intensity,
and outward displays of freedom and emotion;
for some people their escape can be a place
they have been coming back to ever since they were a kid,
and would go back to every day of the year-
from the 1st of January to the 31st of December;
for some people their escape can be somewhere quiet
that they go to by themselves when they are alone,
or somewhere they go to with someone else
who feels the same about the place as you do
and is the only other person in the world
who can understand why your heart beats so fast,
because they too have been spiked with the same love potion.
The escape can be you home.
The escape can be a holiday you have been waiting to go on.
The escape can be a song or an album that makes you feel
more hopeful and more amazing the more you replay it
and the more you listen.
The escape can be a person who knows you
and who loves everything about you,
just as much as you love everything about them.
Your escape can have a plan.
Your escape can be a point on a map.
Your escape can and should be something that makes you happy,
and not somewhere you want to escape to forever-
your escape shouldn’t ever feel like a trap.
Your escape can be a life-long journey,
or a mission to fulfill something primal, or instinctive,
and could see you jumping from an airplane,
jumping off a ravine, travelling over many bridges,
and through many tunnels, just so that when you reach the ground,
or you finally feel the light you have been chasing,
you achieved something you wanted,
and you did something you needed to do,
and your reason and your mantra the whole time was
‘I am doing this because I can.’
Choosing to escape is not a mistake.
Choosing to escape is a choice everyone has to make.
Choosing to escape can be slow at first
and then accelerate into the speed of a chase.
Choosing to escape can be the first thing
you think about when you look in the mirror
and you see you own face-
everyone has a place to go to for what they need
and for what always makes them feel better,
and for me right now this is my escape.
Every second we are transmitting;
every minute we are all broadcasting;
every hour we are all receiving;
every day we all sharing and revealing.
Every morning I feel something I have never felt before
and I reach out;
every morning I write something I might have said
a thousand times before,
but every time I say it again I mean it even more than before,
and to me it is like an ice cube that will never melt.
I have a tendency to repeat myself,
to watch something, and read something, over and over,
and to listen to a song continuously on its own
or part of a playlist;
I love seeing, hearing, and remembering,
things, music, people, places, memories, song-lyrics-
especially when all those wonderful things
combine into one perfect moment-
like the time you are listening to one of your favourite songs
while looking into the eyes of the one you love,
and sharing your first kiss.
I am addicted to communication, and sharing a connection.
If I think, read, see, or hear something
I feel other people would respond to, love,
like, and share too, I get so much pleasure in writing,
tagging, re-blogging, texting, and tweeting, messaging,
a link, a quote, a photo, a picture,
or writing a poem about it,
and seeing the ripple-effect of reactions.
I could talk for hours about hundreds of different things
and have a myriad of opinions about everything-
from religion to literature, from music to television;
I could talk for days about who I have met in my life,
what happened, and what I have seen, where I have been,
and what I heard, and why I was inspired,
because I chose to stop and listen.
Everyone and every thing has a story.
Every life, every love, every heart-break,
every inspirational, magic moment is a song, a musical,
a novel, a poem, a piece of art,
waiting in the wings to be released.
Every person, every leaf, every animal, every coffee bean,
every planet, every cloud, every fish, every grain of sand,
is on a journey, and that shared journey is a journey
of growth, motivation, reflection, impression, disconnection,
reconnection, intuition, in infinite ways,
and with infinite gifts of communication.
We all need something to tie us to this world,
we all need someone to make us feel like we belong,
we all need someone to hold our hand from time to time
when the air goes cold,
we all need something to keep us listening to life’s song.
One person can be the difference between sadness and happiness,
one person can be the answer to a question
you have been asking all your life,
one person can be the difference between madness and calmness,
one person can be the star that guides you through every night.
One song can elevate existence to another level,
one voice can enhance the pleasures of the universe,
one melody can inspire you to rebel,
one word can free you from the pain of chaos
and stop your life from going in reverse.
We all need the sun,
we all need the moon,
we all need the touch of the one,
we all need the feeling of floating
high in the sky like a balloon.
One person’s presence can send tingles down your spine,
one person’s heart can make you feel alive,
one person’s stare can make you feel divine,
one person’s kiss can taste more sublime
than the most expensive glass of wine,
one person by your side when you need them
who loves you as much as you love them
can be a lifeline.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 