You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘place’ tag.
My favourite song is playing on the radio;
I am drinking my favourite drink, in my favourite place;
my thoughts are in over-drive,
as I sit, looking around, with a smile on my face;
it’s raining outside, but life is sweet
and I am happy and warm inside- like hot raspberry jam;
I am having a flashback and a flash-forward,
between a happy little boy,
and a content old man.
I have always felt like a conduit;
I have always sought out and shared;
I have always believed that you can carry everything you need,
most of the time, in your trouser pockets;
I have always gone to the edge,
taken a risk, and gone farther sometimes than others might choose to dare,
in thoughts, in feelings, on foot, on a path
that never doubles back on itself-
but the things that happen on it do feel strangely familiar;
life is a playground of spins, swings, ups, and downs,
tears, smiles, pain, and laughter-
so it is never a surprise to me that things reoccur.
In this day and age, everybody is looking for a power-point,
a place to plug-in and recharge;
everyday, everybody, wherever they are,
take advantage of the free,
the seemingly-indispensable, the small, the large;
today, right now, a billion years ago, always,
life in all its forms makes the most of what it has
and what surrounds it, and everything reacts and adapts
to certain things, at certain times, in a myriad of ways.
Things have a history;
you can always find a pattern to follow;
the definitive meaning of life will always be a mystery;
but what everybody and everything really needs to know
is always with you and inside you wherever you go.
You can’t go around life, you can only go through it;
you can’t hide yourself forever,
because one day someone will unlock your soul,
and read your mind, and know your heart better than anyone,
and make you realize that you too are a conduit.
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.
Every adventure begins with a dream;
every epic starts with a first step;
every day begins with a sunrise
that you may not always see;
every ocean starts with that very first drop.
Every singer starts by singing into a hair-brush;
every author begins by first writing in a diary;
every musician starts with an imaginary instrument-
like an air-guitar- while listening to their favourite music
full-blast, and being told to turn the music down
with a bang on the wall, or a hush;
every song-writer begins writing songs as poetry.
Every driver starts by having a go behind the wheel
of their parents car;
every life full of language and conversation
begins with that first word;
every humanitarian, or doctor, starts every day of their calling
with the oath ‘to do no harm’;
every disease that was ever thought to be wholly-untreatable
will one day be found to have a cure.
Every happy life begins with that first friend;
every band began with that first practice-session;
every new beginning started with an end;
every great relationship began with a question.
Every fortune started with that first penny;
every chain began with that first link;
every thing about who you are and who you will be
goes back and can be traced to who is your family;
every change of perspective begins by you considering
a possibility that you never thought to every think.
Every collection begins with that first item that you treasure;
every place of peace and serenity started as the place
where you always wanted to be when you were a kid;
every passion should always be a pleasure.
Every singer, every musician, every poet, every astronaut,
every teacher, every vet, every soldier, every inventor,
every gardener, can always go back
and point to the time, and they can always tell you what,
and where it all began, and where it all started.
It’s always strange looking back at old photographs
of yourself for some reason,
we sometimes feel more comfortable looking at picture of others-
it’s a weird moment of reflection that occurs,
and a wave of deep introspection that engulfs you
and helps to resurface memories and emotions
you have felt which are closely associated
with unforgettable thoughts that you had
and lived every second of that you dream about sometimes
when you are under the covers.
Looking at old photos, reading back old diary entries,
experiences, and memories, that you recorded,
but forgot about-
looking and finding a piece of your past
always reminds you, and always reminds me,
instantly of where I was, who I was, what I was thinking,
and what life was showing me and guiding me to
with its many sign-posts;
reading a note that we once wrote,
and which ended up being left intact for us to find again one day,
now and forever reminds me again and again
that things happen for a reason and are meant to happen
beyond any doubt.
I have been to many places,
and I love to go back to these same places on a different day,
at a different time, with a clutch of new colours
to my life and me in-toe.
Every day, everyone, and every place is different-
even though they and we may look and feel the same,
everything and everyone changes,
life in fact dictates this for its and our own survival,
and that is the best way to think
and the best way to go.
I look back often, because memories are important to me-
as are the people that I have met, all and every one.
I take pictures of lots of things, and self-portraits of myself
everyday to record and make a moment and a memory last
for as long as it can.
I look forward, and I look around me, every day at
the people in my life, and who I see every day with my cyan-coloured eyes.
I write and capture as much as I can.
I am inspired, and I share every hello that makes me smile,
and every goodbye that makes me cry.
There are things that happen to us that are incredibly
and intensely personal, and they should be kept
and they should stay that way-
but I do believe that there are a great many things
that happen to all of us that must be shared,
because they too can light-up the life
and brighten the face of someone else and make their day.
The world can seem like a smaller place now,
because we can share any-thing and every-thing
with literally millions of people simultaneously
all around the world in an instant;
the world feels more interconnected,
and our lives have become more interlaced,
and sewn-together like a patch-work quilt.
Ever since I was a child I have always felt
someone’s presence before I saw them,
and ever since I went to school, and I started meeting
new kids and I started making friends,
I instantly realized the importance and the power,
the brilliance and the magic, of strangers,
friends, and unique once in a life-time memories.
Life begins, and passes you by in a flash
that can seem, when you look back,
to have all happened in the fraction of a second.
There is more that happens to us than we realize,
and there is more to see than could ever be seen,
by you and by me,
but I just enjoy and live every second
as if each and every one was my last on Earth,
and I love the gift of life and living free
so much that I have to write when I can
about the poetry in my heart, and all around us-
when I sit down and share with as many people as I can
the exposure of the world that I see
in my poetography.
It’s a brand new morning,
on a brand new day,
at a brand new time,
for a brand new me;
it’s a brand new dawning,
on a brand new path,
to a brand new way,
at a brand new place,
with a brand new state of mind,
for a brand new poem,
about a brand new us,
and a brand new life for us
to live breathe and see.
I feel like I am going back to school.
I feel like I am having to learn things over again.
I feel like I am discovering
and tapping into a new source of inspiration fuel.
I feel like I am learning more about myself
every time I sit down with a piece of paper and a pen.
I feel like I am crossing a border
to an unfamiliar territory.
I feel like I am ripping out the last page of my story
from my book, and throwing it into the wind
for someone else to find and one day return to me,
and then we can both know what my last word
and what my last line of poetry will be.
It’s a fresh air that I feel,
and a fresh perspective that I now have.
It’s a fresh surge of blood, energy, and love
that I feel pumping and beating from my heart.
It’s a fresh and gleaming new coat of paint on the world
that I can see my face in,
because the shine is so clear when I look at it
I am instantly reflecting.
It’s a fresh cup that I am drinking from,
as I make the best of every second
of my fresh start.
The lonely word.
The lonely heart.
The lonely world.
The lonely art.
The lonely voice.
The lonely face.
The lonely choice.
The lonely race.
You can sometimes think you are walking alone
even when you are in a crowd;
you can sometimes feel you are hearing nothing
even when the world sounds so loud;
you can sometimes see the world distorted;
you can sometimes hear the distant call
of someone who you may not have seen for a long time,
who is nowhere even near you at that exact time-
like the voice of a ghost,
but even though you can’t see that person
you have no doubt as to its origin,
and you will swear on your life
that you heard the person that you heard say what they said
in the way and in the voice that they said it.
The lonely soul just wants a mate.
The lonely journey is always more bareable
when you have got someone to travel it with.
The lonely note just wants to be played
until it becomes a source and a beacon of hope.
The lonely time can be when you are on a break.
The lonely place can be when and where you feel
like you have nowhere to be and nowhere to live.
The lonely mark can be the brightest and the most wonderful
and wise question and answer that can help you to cope.
Sometimes when you feel the most lonely,
you are the most surrounded by friends, energy,
affection, and love;
sometimes when you feel like you need somebody so badly,
you already and always have them with you-
because they are like the stars that are always there
twinkling in the dark heavens above.
Sometimes when you feel like you are being infected by something,
you are actually being cured;
sometimes the most inspiring and breathtaking thing in the world
can make you feel something incredible,
but can also be the loneliest of words.
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.
I believe that heaven is a place
where the instant that you arrive you never want to leave again,
I believe that heaven is a poem
that even the greatest poet of all-time
would find it hard to describe
with the power of words, paper, and a pen.
I believe that heaven is a time
when you can look around at your life, your home, and at yourself in the mirror,
think back to the year before, on this exact day,
and know within yourself that you are a better person for the events of that year,
and that your path in life is that much more clearer.
In the year that I say goodbye to
I leave behind a part of myself
in the minds and in the hearts of whom I have met,
I say goodbye with a smile, and with memories that I will never forget.
2011 was a year of life-changing inspiration,
and of reality-shattering discovery;
2011 was a year of new lives, new loves, new sights,
and of epic people, and timeless beauty.
2011 was the year when everything changed for me;
2011 was, and will forever be to me,
the year when I uncovered the secrets
and the meaning of the future of my life-
and that is indescribable;
but I can say without hesitation that what is to come
makes me feel so happy.
The promise of tomorrow is also the promise of an entirely new year-
a new year that fills me with hope, anticipation, rejuvenation,
and inspiration, just at the thought at what it is that draws near.
I am not a psychic, or a fortune-teller, I am but an eternal optimist
who has passed through shadows in his life
to arrive at a place where he feels inspired and content-
a place that I would not hesitate to call my very own heaven,
and I know that the year to come will enlighten
and enrich my life like never before;
but I just wanted to say goodbye to a phenomenal 2011.
Happy New Year!
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 