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The day had been planned for for months;
the moment had been imagined and re-imagined
over and over over in my head;
the thought about what I would say gave me goose-bumps;
the alignment of all the stars that had to happen
to bring about a meeting of minds, lives, books, authors,
still makes me feel like a kid at Christmas again;
the anticipation, the journey,
the waiting in-line outside the grand Waterstones bookstore
in Birmingham with my friend,
is something that I will always remember,
and it will always be special to me-
I remember bringing more than one book to get signed
by one of my favourite authors,
but just the thought of what I was doing
and who I was doing it with,
and the memory and experience that I was sharing
was what truly made me happy.
Being a writer can sometimes be a solitary endeavour,
and by its nature writing must be a personal act
that only you can do alone;
being a writer can sometimes feel like you are a traveler
off on an adventure,
and the only person who can truly understand what its like,
what it means, and what you can do,
is another writer who is on their own journey-
while sitting in a coffee shop surrounded by sound,
or a writer in their own space,
writing feverishly on their computer or in their notebook,
in the comfort and solitude of their home.
What I loved about waiting in-line for so long
was that I got to listen and notice people around me,
who were just like me,
and who were just as excited about coming face to face
with someone who made them imagine, think, feel,
something, and share something with someone else-
that is exactly what happened with me:
I read something, I was touched by something,
I was gifted an amazing story,
because of a phenomenal and magical writer,
and I instantly felt the need to share it-
as if I were under a spell.
When my friend and I reached the top of the windy stairs,
and finally came eye to eye with the author
that we had both been looking forward to meeting,
I honestly felt like the author, myself, and my friend,
were the only people in the bookstore,
at the book signing event,
and that everyone had suddenly, magically, left;
it was amazing looking down at my favourite writer,
talking to him about how I loved his writing
and the inspirational commencement speech
that he gave a few years ago
which made me too go off on my own creative quest-
however, the truly amazing and the most epic thing ever
was when I took out my own book that I had signed for him
and I handed it to him as I told him that I too was an author,
and to this day I still remember what a thrill,
and what an honour, it was when my favourite author
accepted my own gift and then extended his hand to me,
and in that infinite and fantastic moment
I felt a connection and a transference of knowledge and wonder,
and storytelling magic, from one author to another.
When the morning light hit my face,
and I slowly began to open my eyes;
when I got out of bed,
and I looked in the mirror,
I immediately flashed back to the night before,
and the face I saw and the memory of the look in my eye
that I cannot erase-
the one that said, and always says to me: embrace life,
and let the constant adventure that you are on
take you far and take you high.
At the end of the day,
when the sun has set and it is officially night,
people change like the colour of the sky changes
from blue to black-
the choices you make, the things you do,
what you intake, what you say and listen to,
are different than at any other time of the day,
and people can act like a completely different person
when they can let their hair down,
and drop their guard,
and let their intoxicated instincts guide them
to varying expressions of their own colourful inner-light.
Some people don’t remember hardly anything
after a long night that turns into a morning of crawling;
some people can drink a lot and remember everything;
some people when they drink cannot stop talking;
some people when they are inebriated dance, laugh,
take off their clothes,
sometimes they wrap their arms around everyone,
and when they hear a great song being played
they let their voice be heard loud
and they sing like The King.
A night on the town;
an experience of visiting and going
to many different venues, places, clubs, and bars;
a night of laughs, music,
and pictures of friends enjoying themselves
and acting like clowns,
are great to remember and remind yourself of,
as long as at the end of the night
you don’t end up somewhere where you didn’t really want to be-
like in the back of a police car.
All good things must come to an end,
and so must a long, but great, and fun night;
flashes of what happened and what was said
rise to the surface of your consciousness
and can fill you with both regret and relief;
every night is short, every night is different, every night is brief-
however, every night counts,
and as the sun rises and the dark becomes the light and bright,
just remember that somewhere, at all times of the day on Earth,
and constantly in space, we, like the world we live on,
are constantly turning, spinning, and existing,
in a perpetual night.
There are always possibilities;
the future is not set in stone;
what we see and what we find
is sometimes beyond what we have dreamed about
in our fantasies;
what we build can last and endure for thousands of years,
like the Colosseum in Rome.
People and structures cast shadows
when the light of the sun is shining behind them;
thoughts and ideas are expressed instantly
when there is a phenomenal desire to share them;
music and poetry is the natural art of the soul
made tangible to ever sense of perception;
emotions and feelings always find a way
to give you some much-needed inspiration redemption.
Hope never dies;
those who fall must always try to get back up;
it’s good to smile, it’s good to cry;
you have to start at the bottom
to fully-appreciate what it takes to rise to the top.
You are always someone’s idea of perfection;
someone will always look back at you
and think of you as a dream come true;
you will always be the drug of someone’s addiction;
someone will do anything, and they will go anywhere,
just so that they can be happy-
and the reason that they are happy
is because they are with you.
We all go through things that are personal to us;
we are all at times affected and afflicted by the fever
and the cure of life;
we all remember what we have lost,
but what is important to you and to everything
is the thing that you take with you to sleep every night.
When you are out in the open,
staring out to the sea,
looking up at the clear blue sky,
or watching nature close-up maintain its never-ending cycle,
that keeps going, and keeps turning, and spinning,
like a multi-coloured, deeply-ingrained, album of vinyl;
when there is a light behind you
in place of a light and a direction to guide you,
you can always know where you are
and what time of your life it is
by looking around you and seeing the shape of the shadows
besides you and coming from you,
like telling the time by a sun dial.
A light has gone out.
A star has died.
The smiles and the laughter will live on
and dampen the fires of doubt;
who you were, who you are,
and who you will always be,
will fill our heart and soul with joy forever
and bring tears to our eyes.
You have been there all my life, since I was a child;
I cannot imagine the world without you in it;
your spirit still remains with us all,
and it feels like there is no one on this planet
who is not feeling an immense sense of loss right now
at your passing, and I myself am having trouble
coming to terms with the reality
that you are no longer with us, I have to admit.
It just doesn’t feel real;
it just doesn’t seem right;
knowing you are somewhere else makes me feel ill;
knowing that we all have lost someone special
makes me sad- like how a kid feels when he lets go
and can do nothing but watch the wind take away
the gift of joy that was his favourite kite.
I cannot begin to know exactly what to say;
I am genuinely struggling to know
how to stop myself from feeling so helpless;
I have been replaying every line and every word
that I heard you say all day;
I have been thinking about you
and about what I see of myself in who you were,
and echoes of you in me, and I see two people
who just want to make the world a better place
for us being in it, and also a shared wish
to surround ourselves with the people of this world
who to us are nothing short of the best.
Life is seldom straight-forward;
why we do what we do is not always easy to figure out;
life can sometimes seem like something
that we may want to run away from,
and sometimes we all can feel like a fraud,
but what you always taught me
was that no matter what is going on in our lives,
if we truly need and want someone to save us,
there is always someone waiting to throw us a life-belt.
You are someone who I will never forget,
and neither will my family,
as well as millions of people from all around the world,
who all agree wholeheartedly that you are one of the most
amazing, phenomenal, funny, smart, exceptionally-talented,
people there has ever been.
I will miss you so much, and I will remember you, watch you,
and think about you often, and I hope that you have found
what you were looking for, I hope you found peace.
Fly free. You will live forever.
Goodbye, you wonderful shining star.
Goodbye, Robin.
Memories and thoughts,
voices and echoes,
strangers and shadows;
what is going to happen next no one really knows,
what will happen all depends on where
and in which direction you want to go.
You can be just standing in the sun
when a face from the past will stop you
and say hello to you,
and say also ‘remember me’;
you can be lost in thought enjoying the sunshine
when something amazing and out of the ordinary
might happen and take you away to where you were going
and where you need to be.
It is amazing how many people you remember meeting,
and how many people remember meeting you;
it is the best thing ever when you run into someone
you didn’t think you would ever see again,
and you just start talking like no time has passed
between you seeing each other,
and it all just comes unexpectedly and out of the blue.
When I shake someone’s hand and I say goodbye to them,
I always think that that will be the last time
that I will see them in the light of the day again;
when I say goodbye it always feels like forever;
however, time and again, I am reminded that nothing is final,
and that life is sometimes as predictable as the weather.
There is nothing like seeing surprise in someone’s eyes;
there is nothing that feels like perfection than a connection;
there is nothing that is sweeter than a hopeful dreamer;
there is nothing more inspiring and invigorating
than the stories of a true dreamer, adventurer, traveler, story-teller.
When you leave your home, and you roam;
when you see things without having to look;
when you literally get a feeling in your bones;
when you know that something is meant for you,
and meant to happen to you,
and is more than just good luck;
when someone does something for you
and they do it with no expectation of anything in return,
especially if genuine compassion and generosity
doesn’t happen to you that often,
then you will see and believe that something, or someone,
once seen will never and can never be forgotten.
Sitting on a sandy beach looking out to sea;
sitting at a chess board behind pieces of black and white;
sitting on a deck chair in a beautiful garden
surrounded by birds, trees, flowers, and bees;
sitting, waiting, meeting, thinking, talking,
on a gorgeous morning, on an inspiring afternoon,
under the stars that shine so bright at night.
Talking into the air;
writing what comes to mind;
feeling the sun change the view right in front of you
to reveal something hopeful hidden in the glare;
realizing the importance and the meaning instantly
of a thing that you find;
seeing a photograph and flashing back to the past;
witnessing the building blocks of something
and imagining the finished product in the future;
being the first in line,
when for so long you thought you were the last;
connecting with life like you do with friends on a computer.
Life is sometimes about what you feel,
and about how you make other people feel,
rather than what you know for sure, or what people say;
life is sometimes tough;
life is sometimes good;
life is sometimes rough;
life is sometimes about taking off your shoes
and walking barefoot in the woods;
life is sometimes about making a return to your roots,
especially after travelling far and engaging
in a life-experiencing and world-spanning tour.
When you find ‘the one’ hold on tight to them-
no matter how or why things happen,
make no mistake that there is a greater force
and meaning to everything that is a part of a bigger plan.
When you remember everything that everybody goes through,
you make the most of every miracle that was always meant to be-
even though it may seem to have come out of the blue.
Why do we live?
Why do we die?
Do we live so that we can die?
Do we die so that someone can live?
Should we smile after we have cried?
Should we cry for those who will always be in our hearts,
and who we will always be with?
To forget is not in our nature;
to remember is in our blood;
to pay tribute is like creating a door;
to memorialize the fallen is to keep alive the memory
of those who once ran, walked, waited, stood;
to wear a symbol of respect and remembrance
is a hopeful token that costs nothing,
but is worth more than any money could buy;
to feel and to think about what someone must have been through
is a wonderful thing;
to glimpse even for a second that which
someone may rather try to hide
shows you in a glaring and glorious light;
to lay down a flower, a wreath, a thought,
even if you are doing so for those
who will always be a complete stranger,
is like a burst of colour in a field
on a beautiful day in spring.
Every fallen hero had a life-time of dreams;
every child fears the monsters of their nightmares;
every man and woman marching forward to a beat
knows what loyalty and duty means;
everyone who does what they can for someone in need
knows that life for all its magic and beauty
is not always fair.
Every person can make a difference;
every person we meet can be a guardian angel;
every person can be a guiding presence;
every person’s reputation precedes them,
and whether they know it or not
that sense of who they are
is always floating on the surface of a perceptual ocean,
until it rises fully and becomes visible.
There can be only one life for everybody;
there can be only one body for every life;
there can be lots of ways to remember someone,
and one of the best ways is to keep thinking about them,
to keep loving them, and whenever you look for someone
and need someone they are who you will see,
and they will be always a part of the dreams that you have at night.
When we take our final step on our life’s path,
and we step to the side, and stop and watch
the rest of the world, the rest of the universe, pass us by,
we can rest, we can be at peace, we can shine,
and be there for our loved ones,
like we have always been looked on and protected
by those who came before us who reside in the light of the stars,
that is when we realize that we never leave each other,
because we are always together-
no matter how close, or distant;
no matter how near, or far.
A song sung for someone;
a poem written for
and because of someone who inspires you;
a picture created so that someone’s light can be shone;
a photo in your mind,
or a memory that you can hold in your hand
that immortalizes a person, a time, a moment,
and a forever place of heaven on Earth
that will always be a part of you.
As raindrops fall on the sand,
as the sea swells and the waves rise,
as the wind blows and you fully extend the fingers of your hands,
as the seagulls squawk and fly,
as the memories flood back,
all around me becomes an ocean that I am happily
and contently under the surface of
that is an energy and a light
that no matter how far I go or how deep I descend
will never go out and go to black.
Names ingrained in Oak trees;
words like ‘I love you’ engraved in gold
and worn close to someone’s heart;
song-lyrics and meaning left for someone to find
and re-read and listen to again-
a beautiful verse of immortalized poetry,
an embodiment of quintessential perfection;
like a unique birthmark;
like a message written in wet concrete;
like the layers of life that build up over time;
like a person that instantly touches our soul
from the moment that we meet;
like the steps that you take as you climb-
every touch, every word, every footprint, every indentation,
is a piece of natural sculpture
and like nothing else that has come before
or could ever come after;
like the colour and shine of someone’s eyes.
Things of importance endure;
people live forever;
every heartbeat leaves an echo and a wave;
everyone returns-
no one truly dies once they have been immortalized.
Early in the morning,
as the stars shine at night,
love makes my heart sing,
music fills my life;
when I wake up and the rain is pouring,
as I drift off to sleep,
a song, a voice, a melody,
takes me to my dreams and set alight
my deep thoughts like a fire.
My dreams are epic,
my dreams are sometimes dark-
but they are more often than not
overwhelmingly insightful and bright.
My dreams have things in them that have significance
and hidden meaning-
whether it is the sight of a typewriter,
or the echo of a clocks tick,
or the sight of someone taking a photograph of me
as I am taking a picture of them-
it always amazes me what my own subconscious conjures up
during the day in the heat of the sun,
or at night when the moon is reflecting light back at the Earth
and at all of us and influencing our thoughts and fortunes.
We all go to bed with thoughts, feelings,
and inflections of the day before that is slowly drifting away,
and its events will soon have gone by and be no more
than a shadow, when all is said and done;
we all wake up the next day feeling different,
but with certain splinters in our mind
still playing on our thoughts
that we can’t rid ourselves of or shake easily-
some of us get up and try to start their day
and free ourselves of any lingering worries or concerns
with a daily morning run,
some of us sit up in bed and listen to music,
watch TV, read a book, write poetry,
someone of us take hold of our favourite instrument
and play to our hearts content,
some of us just sit and cry on our own,
just so we can vent.
Talking is important;
connections are essential;
letting out and letting go
can be like the cool water from a font;
remembering the people you love,
and where you want to be,
because they are to you the most wonderful and the most special,
needs to be, must be, will always be-
and that is why you must run, walk, look, see,
the magic all around in the daylight;
that is why you must run into the ocean of the unknown;
that is why you need to touch and feel a part of the light;
that is why you must be fearless, bold, and brave,
and let the world and everything in it fill your life.
Everyone has their own unique colour,
everyone has a way, a walk, a word, a wardrobe, a wish,
that is theirs, which perfectly describes and shows
a great deal about the heart that is constantly beating in their chest,
as well as the heart that they always wear on their sleeve-
like a child being held tightly by a mother.
Everyone carries a box of secrets,
everyone has hidden interests and thoughts,
feelings and loves, that they snuggle up to
when they are alone and in need of some comfort, or reassurance-
like an owner giving attention and affection to a beloved pet.
Everyone has a work of art that is a self-reflection
that they look at daily,
everyone can be everything they want to be,
and can feel things intensely externally,
and deeply internally.
Everyone is remembered by someone for being something,
everyone has been more in their life-time than they think.
Everyone has a favourite song, a favourite place,
a favourite thing to do, that brings them happiness;
everyone is a participant, an instigator,
an observer, a user, a witness.
Everyone is a scrapbook, an album,
a collection of special and shared memories and experiences;
everyone is a calendar, a diary, a phone-book,
of dates, people, fascinations, numbers,
and souvenirs of their travels,
that they have packed inside them and with them wherever they go-
like someone off on an adventure,
or off on holiday with their suitcase.
Everyone makes choices in their life
that feel right at the time they are making them,
which were always meant to be made the way that they were;
everyone feels great and warm in the sun,
and when standing in the rain everyone gets wet-
for some they actually feel better and cleansed
just by the act of being in and being touched
by the droplets of a rainstorms downpour.
I have an intense light within me,
and an overwhelming fire that no one could ever just describe
as a mere flash or a spark;
I have a sight, an instinct, a pulse, a passion for life,
a love of the best and the uniqueness of everything of Earth;
I have a life-long belief in hope,
and in the power of its effect, and witnessing hope,
and giving hope to someone in need, in any way,
is the key and the way to my heart.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 