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Standing up for what is right is a calling;
defending the voices of the minority
is a meaningful and satisfying cause;
being the one to stand before a seemingly overwhelming force
that almost sounds like and can seem as scary
as a lion when it is roaring;
showing all of yourself to prove that you have nothing to fear
is what you have to do sometimes,
even if you have to do it completely naked
riding through a city on the back of a horse.
Everybody has those dreams of themselves
walking around naked;
everybody wishes that they could run around free
like they used to when they were a kid;
as we get older we become more restricted;
as our opinions, hopes, and dreams, change
we want more and more to be protected.
It’s natural to want to surround yourself;
it’s the way of the world to clothe yourself in the fabric
of the time in which you live;
it’s not wrong to sometimes want to walk around in stealth;
it’s comforting to believe and hold close to your heart
the meaning and the message of a myth;
it’s great to stay and return to what makes you smile;
it’s magical to be looking around you and just see stars;
it’s liberating to be the master of your own style;
it’s carnival-like fun and exciting to want to see
and experience all that exists and is waiting to be seen,
that is as thrilling, fascinating, and inspiring,
as the thought of finding water on Mars.
The freedom to be;
the need to see;
the instinct to share;
the thrill to dare;
the simplicity to be basic;
the ease to be happy with what others take for granted
is more hypnotic and enchanting than a magic trick.
Energy never dies.
Stories are retold, and are never over.
The truth is like gold.
You can be who you want to be,
and strip yourself of what you don’t need,
and you too can be a legend and an inspiration for many,
just like the luminary hero of Coventry
who will forever be known as Lady Godiva.
Since I was a kid
I have been exposed and interested
in every decade of the 20th Century,
and I have always been fascinated
by the phenomenon of things created in different decades
that were a staple and an example of their time
that come back into fashion, and the touch of the influence
and the art of them continues to inform the present
in many different and brilliant ways.
I feel like a collage of styles,
likes, lessons, morals, and trends;
I love the fact that I am not stuck or constrained
in any particular way of dressing, thinking about,
or seeing the world, and I never have-
I have always loved individuality and originality,
uniqueness and specialness,
and the things about life and people that never
detract and always enhance.
There is a reason why things repeat;
there is a reason why ideas, designs, and concepts
come back into peoples consciousness time after time;
there is a reason why a good thing never dies;
there is a reason why hearts, minds, and souls meet.
The music of the 1980s,
the ideas of the 1970s,
the style of the 1960s,
the art of the 1950s,
are loved every day and are still all around us
and they can be heard, thought, seen, and enjoyed,
in any and every one of the worlds cities,
and knowing that everything that used to be considered
every-day and ‘run of the mill’ is now truly special,
treasured, and cherished, by people who were
not even born when they were new, unheard, and unseen,
gives them a quintessential, classic, vintage feel,
and ambiance, that some things of the modern age
will not have when they too become replaced
by something that resembles a change of ways,
or a refreshed screen.
I love the look, the feel, the sound, the crackle, of vinyl;
I love seeing and being inside a “classic car”;
I love something that doesn’t ever lose it’s charm,
because it was made to be a one-off,
but has transcended, endured, and lasted,
and will enrich peoples lives forever
and make them smile.
I love as story, a person, that is, and who is,
so special and unique, but also ubiquitous-
but not because they were forced on other to be
who and what they are now considered to be from their genesis,
but because no one took them for granted,
and love them because they will always be as singular as a star.
Seeing an iconic invention and expression of a time gone by
that still exists in some way, is like being in a tunnel
and hearing the distinctive voice of someone in an echo;
seeing the source of a revolution,
and also going back and learning about something of importance’s
origin, is always the best thing in the world-
and that is why I love to rediscover things,
and make a part of my life and me many of the things
that people call and consider nostalgic and retro.
Every time I see you
you take my breath away,
every day I talk to you
you fascinate me with something I have never heard,
every time I learn something new about you
I can’t stop myself from smiling for days,
every day I need to have you at the other end of the phone line,
because when it comes to hearing from you I hang on every word.
You have the most amazing style,
you have the most incredible taste,
you have the most stunning and gorgeous eyes
to go with the most beautiful smile,
you are everything any man could ever dream about finding in a woman,
and every day I stare at your picture to remind me
how phenomenal you are, how wonderful in every way you are,
and not a figment of my imagination, or a dream,
and I marvel at everything about you that comes to mind-
from your amazing stories about the places you have been,
to the incredible people who you have known throughout your life
who every day still talk to you and influence you,
and keep that unbelievable smile fixed upon your face.
When you walk into a room people turn their heads
and instantly gravitate towards you,
when you take an interest in someone, or something,
people follow your line of sight and they know instantly
that whatever it is it is definitely worth their while,
when you say something people know without any doubt
that what you are saying could not be more true,
when you put your heart, imagination, and soul into something,
everyone knows it means something special and important to you,
and every step that came into making it was worth every mile.
I love how you make me feel.
I love how for everything you receive
you give back a hundred times.
I love how you make my thoughts flash
with the energy and colour of a firework
exploding against a black sky,
and spin and spark my dreams with the ferocity
of a Catherine wheel.
I love and I live for how much there is about you
that will forever be unique to you alone-
a beauty, a divinity, the serenity of a goddess,
a wildness of an inner tigress that can’t ever be confined.
Your eyes shine brighter and more brilliantly
than all the stars and planets in the universe,
you are truly the most beautiful and stunning woman
in the entire world,
you make me better and at peace as if I were your patient
and you were my nurse.
You are like no one else,
there will never be anyone else like you,
and I love you my cosmopolitan girl.
The pen is not the poet,
but the poet cannot be without the pen;
the poet can have all the inspiration and insight in the universe,
but without the means and the implements to express their creativity
their words know not where they are, nor when.
The pen with which a poet writes their poetry
is one of the most powerful agents
and perpetuators of expression ever invented;
with a pen at their fingertips a poet can wield words of power
and of silent articulation the cogency of which is unprecedented.
In the hands of an artist,
a pen is like a magicians magic wand, or the sceptre of an emperor, or a king-
in the hands of someone who can understand the language of order
within an alphabet of chaos
a pen can bring paper and ink to life and make them sing.
There is something wonderfully visceral to a writer
about actually writing the literal interpretation of their imaginings;
there is something incredibly profound about the weight of a pen in your hand,
and the balance and dexterousness that you have to bring.
There is a connection that develops over time
between a writer and his pen that may perplex the thoughts of an onlooker-
sometimes that connection is the only outlet a writer has
for his potent, poetic, imagination pressure cooker.
In the 21st Century you can write on a tablet, a phone, a computer,
on a blog, a wall, or in a good old-fashioned notepad, or a book, with a pen-
I have written poetry in every way, everywhere,
and without question or hesitation a pen and piece of paper
will forever be the source of inception of every one of my poems
again and again.
Even though I get a rush from writing poetry
with the elegance, refinement, and style of ink and pen,
I still keep in my mind and never forget
that I am the poet,
and that: le stylo ne fait pas le poete.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 