My Poem ‘The Goodbye Cycle’

‘Goodbye’ is the saddest word there is;
saying goodbye is the hardest thing
you will ever have to do in your life;
goodbye can seem like a full-stop,
and a reminder of all the things about someone and you
that you have in common that you are going to miss;
saying goodbye is something that I run away from doing
and I will do anything to avoid,
like a magician trying to make sure
he isn’t hit by fast-flying knives.

The season is ending;
people are going their separate ways;
relationships are fading;
people are making a new start somewhere else,
and are saying that “I hope we will see each other again some day.”

I don’t want to see anybody leave
the places where I always know they are going to be;
I don’t want things to change,
but I don’t want to stop anyone
from doing what they must do-
I don’t want want to think or say anything selfishly,
because I do want everyone to be happy,
and I have always been a big believer
that nothing and no one that was born free
should ever be restrained and held in a cage.

I could not live with myself
if I thought that I were holding someone back;
I cannot think of worse prospect
than not being able to follow
the energy and the path of your passion-
support, love, belief, in me and of me,
is something I have always had;
inspiration, happiness, contentment,
a sense of belonging,
are things that I would never dream to ration.

I will never be able to truly say “goodbye”,
to say “see you later”, to say “see you in another life”,
or to say “remember me, and don’t forget me”,
with a straight-face to someone,
without having a tear of sadness welling up in my eye;
I know that life is a cycle,
I know that people have to go sometimes,
but I will never like or want to truly be
a part of the cycle of goodbye.

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My Poem ‘The Regulars’

There is the poet,
who is always writing his poetry;
there is the man with the gold-rimmed glasses,
who is always looking and tapping away at his laptop;
there is the woman who has a particular temperature,
a particular colour, and a particular way,
that she likes and she expects her coffee;
there is the lady who comes through the door,
and every time she comes in and I see her
she is wearing the same coloured top.

There is the man who is always doing his crossword puzzle;
there is the business man who is always lost in thought;
there is the couple who sit opposite one-another,
but who never talk;
there is the woman who is always dressed in her running-gear,
and listening to her music on her iPod-
happy to just stay in her own private bubble.

There is the man who is always reading the same novel;
there is the woman in the red blouse,
who is video-calling someone far away- I always assume;
there is the boyfriend who is constantly looking at his girlfriend,
as if no one else is more beautiful;
there is the girl who has a tattoo on her neck
in the shape of the crescent of the moon.

There is the woman who I always see eating a salad;
there is the man who always sits by the window,
in the same seat, listening to the music being played,
as he stirs and sips the coffee in his cup;
there is the woman who sits on her own in the corner,
looking down at her phone, who always looks sad;
there is the man who is always dressed
like he is about to play a game of football in a World Cup.

There is the mother with her daughter;
there is the father with his son;
there is the blonde-haired man in the black jacket and blue jeans,
who drinks his drink in a rush as if it was water;
there are the friends who always look as if all they want to do
is chill-out, talk, laugh, and have fun.

There are people who I am used to seeing
when I come in to the same coffee shop, every time;
there are people of every age, colour,
inclination, and character;
there are people who stay here all day,
and some who just stay for a short time;
there are people who I would count myself a member of the same group,
and for all intents and purposes,
until I get to know everyone else better,
I will just call us all “The Regulars”.

My Poem ‘Come through the phone’

Not every couple has the luxury
of being in the same place, at the same time,
in the same room, or even in the same timezone sometimes;
not every two people who are meant to be together
can get together when they want;
not every couple can be in each others arms
and look into each other’s beautiful eyes-
but that doesn’t matter,
because they are still and will always be together
in one way or another forever,
and can talk and laugh and cry together,
and do lots of things, and share lots of things,
and even though they may not be face to face
that doesn’t mean that they can’t share things between themselves.

A message can be a god-send;
a note or a letter can be the most beautiful thing you have ever read;
a picture with the words ‘I love you’ attached to it
can fill you with joy, energy, and love,
of which there is no end;
a phone-call, the sound of the voice of the one you love
echoing in your ear, no matter what they say,
can be to you the most amazing and beautiful thing anyone ever said.

Connections are precious;
a ringtone can sound like a heart beating;
thought means so much;
a particular voice can be healing.
A well-timed call can be life-saving;
a fateful call can be life-changing;
a single sentence of connected words
spoken in a particular way
can open up infinite possibilities;
someone’s laugh can sound like the melody to a song-
no matter if that voice has said a billion words in their lifetime,
or the voice of that of someone with a limited vocabulary in their twenties.

The great thing about the miraculous technology of the 21st Century
is that it has brought people who live vast distances apart
within touching distance of each other,
and it has connected lives and spirits,
and forged new and lasting relationships.
and love for life,
for so many people who may never have met otherwise;
technology is a stepping-stone to the future,
and it is one of the most valuable tools and gifts
of creating, making, and sustaining, unbreakable ties.

A phone-call from someone can be an invitation;
a phone-call in the morning or late at night
can bring you back home;
a phone-call that you were not expecting can be a revelation;
a phone-call can be enough for a while,
but then there comes a time
when all you want to do is find a way
to come through the phone.

My Poem ‘Carry Me’

Like bubbles in the air carried by the wind;
like a balloon let go to rise above the clouds,
passed an airplanes wing;
like a person’s voice that fills you with energy,
and makes you daydream in ecstatic bliss;
like a static electrical touch,
or a powerful and amazing kiss-
you can leave your body,
you can leave the ground,
you can bask in glory,
you can breath without a sound,
you can sense someone is with you,
you can feel a breeze touch you like a caress,
you can make a fantasy into truth,
you can be free of regret.

The nature of the universe is infinite change,
in infinite ways, in infinite directions, in infinite depths.
Life presents, shows, and gives us wonders;
life takes us, carries us, and talks to us-
like a best friend that is never out of words, or breath.
The nature of meaningful connections that are responsible
for binding the relationships of everything and everyone
together as one is as striking as lightning,
and as loud as thunder.

Like a sailboat on the sea;
like a glider on an air current;
like an invisible force that you do not see;
like an ever-changing store-front-
we are guided and influenced by the feeling of something;
we are tantalised by the out of reach, but achievable;
we are compelled by a song that we want to sing;
we are held and lifted by a crowd of countless people;
we are like a bird, or a bee-
free to fly, free to be.

We all carry each other;
we all carry a gift;
we all carry a burden, or a worry;
we all carry a need, and a dream;
we all carry our heart out in front of us,
like a loving Mother, Father, Sister, or Brother;
we all carry a bridge that can cross and close any rift;
we all carry a hope that good things will happen in a hurry;
we all carry memories of where we have been;
we all carry and take people along a shared journey,
like the driver of a bus.

We all blossom.
We all grow and bear fruit like a tree.
We all carry someone.
We all have people in our lives who carry us,
and I am so lucky to have people in my life
who constantly carry me.

My Poem ‘It happens’

Don’t look back.
Don’t think about what happened.
Just don’t think that any of this was your fault.
You did everything you could
to keep the light before everything forever went black.
You thought they were always going to love you.
You thought they were always going to be your friend.
Just think of this as a wake-up call,
or like an electrically-charged jolt to the heart.
You’ve burned your bridges to ashes.
The way you used to regularly travel great distances
over vast expanses can’t ever be remade.
You have given everything, and you always did,
and that debt was never going to be wholly repaid.

Just keep going. Just keep reading.
Just keep experiencing. Just keep writing;
don’t let this bring you down,
don’t let what happened make you feel sad,
or as if you are any less than what and who
you believe you are;
don’t let yourself be sucked inside yourself
like a black-hole ripping apart a beautiful star-
save yourself, run away if you have to,
get as far away from everything that is tormenting you,
discover something new, go somewhere you have never been,
imagine the clouds have gone and the sky is blue;
just imagine that all the pain you have just been feeling
was nothing more than a nightmare, or a bad dream;
you are stronger than you realize-
and if it helps, listen to your favourite song on repeat,
close your eyes, don’t think about the person that hurt you:
imprison them forever in the dark, cold, dungeon of your forgotten
and unimportant past life experiences you never want to revisit
and you want to forget, and throw away the key-
it serves no purpose to keep anything that reminds you of them-
they and you were never meant to be forever,
and in retrospect you already know this to be true
from the amount of time you tried to repair
and reconcile any differences you may have had,
but they always turned out to be seeds of a deeper,
toxic, growth, that if you let it grow near you
and around you forever it would eventually eat you alive.

Get out there.
Find and make new friends.
Don’t think or worry again about those who never cared.
Find and be with who you need, and who needs you;
and don’t feel sad at all;
and if you have to say anything to yourself,
just tell yourself that ‘unfortunately, in life,
things like this that are out of your hands,
just happen, and they need to happen, and it happens’.

My Poem ‘Reset’

It’s never what you set out to do;
it’s never what you ever plan for;
it’s never what you think
will ever need to happen-
but then you realize it is the only thing you can do,
it is the thing you must do,
it is the thing that is necessary to prevent
things getting as bad as they were before;
sometimes you have to even reset a relationship
to remember, to rediscover, to reignite, the passion.

Even the best of things from time to time
needs to be turned on and off again,
rebooted and restarted-
even our senses and our instincts
can sometimes benefit from a readjustment-
especially if you have been tested to your extremes in some way,
if your life feels like it is going astray,
and like everything is just not going your way,
and for some reason you just feel sad or broken-hearted.

If you own a car,
sometimes you discover that you need to replace its battery;
if you manage a team and your aim and goal is to win every game,
sometimes you realise that you need to infuse your team
with new blood to shake things up;
if you are running a marathon,
sometimes you have to pick up the pace;
if you try not to worry about what is going to happen next,
you might just see what you have been trying so hard to see
where you never would have expected it to be;
if you change your normal rhythm and walk a different way
in a new direction, meaning and reason will find you
without you having to look;
if you go away and come back to something important,
to you an entire new universe might appear and open up for you
that is more wondrous and infinite in appearance than outer-space.

Everything and everyone must go back at some point-
even a finely tuned guitar needs to be retuned sometimes;
even an expensive watch sometimes needs to be rewound;
even the most state of the art machine, piece of technology,
or software, needs to be upgraded, or sometimes replaced-
every state of being can only last for a certain amount of time;
even a part of your body may one day need to be substituted
with an artificial equivalent-
like a new heart valve, or a new elbow-, or knee-joint;
even a good crop needs to be cut down, sold,
and then resowen, so that cycle of growth can continue,
from the Earth to the air, and then back to the ground.

Even the day has to turn to night at sunset;
even our minds have to switch off and dream,
and run away with themselves when it is dark;
even an every-day hero starts somewhere
and ends their journey somewhere else
that they may never have ever planned to be,
or could ever have expected-
that is their arc;
even a life needs to come to a full-stop,
needs to be reassessed, and like anything that is complicated
to sometimes understand, which we can sometimes take for granted,
sometimes needs to be reset.

My Poem ‘Right’

Sitting alone in a loud and crowded cafe;
walking through a park and being blinded
for a second by a bright light;
standing on a packed train,
waiting for a bus, or just coming to work
on a normal day that doesn’t at first seem out of the ordinary-
you can see someone, you can meet someone,
you can catch the eye of someone,
and you can start talking to someone you may have seen before
but until the right time came for you both
you never felt the need to reach out and discover
something about yourselves that goes beyond commonality.
You can feel something, perhaps even the signature beat
of someone’s heart that may sound the same as everyone else’s,
but which you know and you hear is different from everyone else’s
because their heart beats for you
as your heart beats for theirs.
You can be anywhere, anytime.
You can be somewhere, and you can be the only person
who knows that you have seen, met, the right person for you,
and that this is the right place and the right time.
You can’t fake it, you just know it;
you can’t shake the feeling, you just know you have found
what you need, and what you have been searching for for so long,
and you can’t get enough of it and them,
because everything about them is unlike anything
and like no one you have ever seen before,
and all you want to know is who they are,
but you already know that what you could be together
is amazing, and that is what is incredible,
that is what is exciting.
The first time you see each other is so powerful;
the first time you feel each other’s stare in unmistakable;
the first time you say something to each other is incredible;
the first time you know and don’t have to be told who someone is,
something that could never be rehearsed,
it is what feels right in the moment,
and what you don’t have to think about,
because it is something instinctive and natural.

My Poem ‘Wake up, Mark’

My heart feels like lead.
I don’t even want to get out of bed.
My head is pounding. My mind is swimming.
I feel numb. I have forgotten the touch and the heat of the sun.

At work I am making mistakes, I can’t do anything right.
At home I am reminded of every thing and every one that I have lost,
but the worst thing is that I feel like I have lost the will to write.

The words and the conversations that I have had with people
over the last couple of days have been rattling around in my head
and driving me insane-
to me, love is not something you can pretend to be in,
you are either in love or you are not-
love is not a game.

I am not perfect, and I don’t claim to be and never have,
but what I am is someone caring, passionate, full of energy,
full of life, and the farther the distance between me and someone
I put every second of thought into bridging and connecting
with someone as much as I can.

I have been told that I simplify things too much,
that I sometimes focus and obsess on things and people too much,
and I have to agree with that, I know that about myself,
that is what makes me such a good writer, I like to think-
I like to think, I like to feel, I like to be lost in something
and someone, I like, I love, to be in love.

Anyone on the outside looking in on me and on my relationships
would think that I seek out chaos, that I like the rocky road
more than I do the flat, maintained, tarmac of a highway-
however they would be mistaken, because, believe me,
I want nothing more than to be with someone, to be happy,
and for them to be happy with me,
living the quiet, simple life of embracing and making the most
of every second together,
and never even to think or ever want to walk away.

I have walked away from things and people in the past,
and every time I have hated myself after for it.
I don’t want to walk away from anything ever,
or anyone that I care about and love-
but sometimes I feel like I have worn out my welcome
and I have said and done all I can,
but what is below my feet now resembles a worn-out piece of carpet.

I am hurting.
I am confused.
I am like a computer that needs rebooting.
I am like a battery that has lost its charge and is now used.

It will all be ok tomorrow- I keep telling myself.
It will all work itself out- a friend of mine once told me.
It will be a brand new day, a brand new year.
It will be a fresh start- at least I hope it will be.
It will be a time to change again,
it will be a time to change everything,
and even though it will be hard,
I am willing to see how far I can go-
as long as I remember what my sister told me yesterday:
to “don’t change (my) good heart”.

My Poem ‘Universal’

Under star-lit sky;
beneath the pulse of flashing lights;
when you can feel the vibration travel
from your feet to the irises of your eyes,
when the universal energy floods your mind,
and it doesn’t even matter whether it is day or night-
because you and your music are resonating and moving
to the same frequency, the same vibe-
feeling like a pulsar, and going to places
that no other drug than music can take you to,
and showing you things that are so instant, special, and amazing,
they take you high in ways you couldn’t ever relay or describe.

In your room on your own,
in a public place surrounded in every direction
by people you don’t know;
in a moment of need, in a flash of inspiration,
you hear the song that you have been waiting for,
you become the words and the melody
that makes you feel alive like the new day’s dawn.
You give out a silent but deafening call,
and those who are listening, reveling, receiving,
hear you, and you feel like you are in an infinite room
without any walls.

We all create our own reality;
we all live in moments of infinite meaning and complexity;
we all find the one at the right time,
even if we don’t know it;
we all want a fusion of our dreams
and what we are here to do, make, and complete
in this life, on this planet;
we all can do no wrong if we give our heart
and believe in everything we do;
we all can know no limits if we remember
that everything in life has a cycle,
we all move in a circle,
we all exist in a sphere of constantly interacting
and changing relationships of me and you.

It is the best feeling in the world;
it is the magic that really happens in every note of music,
in every expression of art, in every written or printed word;
it is what excites us when we feel something incredible;
it is what colours our face;
it is what widens our smile, and dilates our eyes;
it is what makes us punch the air;
it is what makes us feel tearful, eternal;
it is what we can all feel and discover in our own perfect time-
because what is out there is everything and everybody,
and is wholly universal.

My Poem ‘Paper’

That look into each others eyes,
that ring on your fingers,
that look that keeps you hypnotized,
that symbol of unity that reminds you every day
that out of all the people taking part
in the contest of love and life
you two won the prize to be with each other forever.

Being with each other just feels so natural,
being with each other just feels meant to be,
being with each other every day
feels like you have discovered life’s pinnacle,
being with each other every day
is something no one else could possibly understand,
because you see things in one-another, about one-another,
that no one else could possibly see.

When you know someone as well as you two do
you would think that there is nothing else for you to learn
about each other,
how could anything possibly be new?
However, every day, no matter how long you have been together,
no matter how long you spend together,
you do see and discover an untold secret
that was just waiting for the right time
to show itself and come to light-
that is the most amazing and wonderful thing
about being in a relationship, being in love,
committing yourself to the well-being of each other,
and wanting to spend all and every hour of the day
sharing anything and everything
from the early hours of the morning
to the twilight hours of the night.

A life together is never easy,
but its meaning and its effect on you
and on your life can never be replicated;
a life apart is torture in comparison-
especially when you know for certain and without doubt
that you were both the reason that through everything
you have been through separately and together,
what happened needed to happen, and that is why life waited
to gift you your soul-mate, your life-partner,
the one who needs you in their life
as much as you need to be in theirs,
who scrambles all other frequencies
but the one you need to hear-
more so than a solar flare.

Being together means something greater;
being together means that no matter what happens
you two can be a light-house for each other through any weather;
being together, being one, is more than a name,
it is more than a signature on a dotted-line;
being together is something special,
and what that means is something
that you don’t have to think about
because it is there with you both,
and it is something that no matter how hard you try
you can’t put on a piece of paper.