My Poem ‘Favourites’

Everyone has their likes and dislikes;
everyone has an opinion about what is the best,
even when we are a child we have our favourites-
a favourite toy we like to play with,
a favourite teddy-bear we like to carry around everywhere,
a favourite blanket that we hold onto tightly for comfort and security,
a favourite bike, a favourite colour that can equally make us feel
calm and quiet one minute, and then the next have our heart
beating fast in our chest.

Throughout our lives we grow to love things more and more,
and we can even gain a new appreciation of some things
that we always claimed wholeheartedly to always hate,
because nothing ever last forever,
and because invariably our tastes do change over time-
there are some things of brilliance and greatness
that we can discover and happen-upon late.

Our favourites are individualistic and say much about who we are
and about the life we have had and the life we live;
our favourites are what make our entire day
and can be what we think about and breath every minute;
our favourite person, our favourite song,
our favourite lesson, our favourite road
which we travel on which is never a mile too long,
our favourite book, our favourite car,
our favourite cook, our favourite drink at our favourite bar.

Our favourites are our favourites,
because they make us feel something;
our favourites are our favourites,
because they make the world feel like there is nothing missing;
our favourites are our favourites,
because they make us feel at home
even when we are far-away from what we know
as well as the back of our hand;
our favourites are our favourites,
because they are special to us
and not just another grain of sand.

My favourite book is ‘The Little Prince’;
my favourite film is ‘The Shawshank Redemption’,
or, depending on the day, ‘500 Days of Summer’;
my favourite colour is Blue;
my favourite writer is William Shakespeare,
and he has been from the moment I first read his beautiful words,
and every time I have re-read anything penned by him every day since;
my favourite song is ‘To the moon and back’ by Savage Garden,
but I also love John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’-
and to me these songs are songs that no one else
could ever truly cover;
my favourite thing to do is write,
but, if you know me already,
that would be something that you already knew.

What is my favourite now hasn’t always been,
nor should it ever be-
things are meant to change, as we are meant to change;
as we live, learn, and experience new things and see new things
we grow and change, bear fruit, and take in,
and are a person and a product of our environment, circumstance,
mood, and our emotional metamorphosis that we sometimes go through,
because of something that we feel and see.

Your favourites are your favourites, but they could also be
the favourites of someone you know,
or of someone you have yet to meet-
but who you might meet because you share the same love
and appreciation for something,
and because you bask in the light that something,
or perhaps someone, daily emits;
your favourite table, your favourite chair,
your favourite place, your favourite passion-
there is always an amazing story and an amazing reason
why something touches you, and why something, or why someone,
becomes your favourite.

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My Poem ‘Surprises’

Since I was a small boy, I have always loved surprises.
Since I was old enough to recognise, remember, and understand,
why birthdays, Christmas, and special occasions were important
to celebrate and share,
the not knowing of what gift I will receive and from whom,
and the not knowing of what is going to happen next,
even now, as I turn 32 years old, still makes me feel excited.

Everyday I receive amazing gifts from my family,
everyday I am blessed with the phenomenal presence of my friends,
everyday someone I have never met will inspire me
to think of something that I have never thought of before-
something important that may one day save me.
Everyday Earth feels like a brand new world, constantly evolving,
and humantiy breaths in and breaths out new creations
and drives itself forward,
while maintaining what makes them who they are-
cherishing and nourishing new life,
while at the same time harbouring the means and the will
to start a ticking clock towards the end.

Life is full of surprises.
Being in the dark about something makes the reveal
and the revelation of a secret feel incredible-
so much so that it can completely overwhelm you,
raise your heart-rate, flood your thoughts,
irrevocably effect how you feel in the future,
and make the universe seem fantastic and magical,
like it always felt to you when you were a child.

A kiss on the cheek,
a hand-shake from someone who you haven’t seen in a while,
a message or a phonecall from someone out of the blue,
can be the best thing that has happened to you all week,
the thing that you think about that always makes you smile-
what you don’t expect to happen is nearly always
what makes you feel more and dazzles you
like seeing your favourite view.

We learn so much about ourselves by observing others;
we prepare for what is to come by reliving our experiences in the past;
we learn over time what is meant to be shared straight-away,
and what should be kept undercover;
we prepare ourselves for what happens in our lives as best as we can,
but, ultimately, the answers that we crave
cannot be known without first living outside of the reality
in which we feel the most secure and comfortable,
and by asking the questions that we have always been afraid to ask.

We can’t control who we fall in love with;
we can’t surpress what makes us laugh;
wa can’t let go of our personal superstitions
and our unique fascination of certain myths;
we can’t be good or bad, on the light-side or the dark,
we can only just be who we are-
all shades, all colours, all sides;
just like Earth, or outer-space, or the universe-
you can’t split someone in-half.

The most important thing to remember
about anything that happens in life
is that unpredictability and uncertainty
are the roads and the highways
that we travel down everyday of our lives;
and no matter how fully-formed a thought
about something is in your head
the end result may differ drastically,
and you will be diverted down a route without a map,
through a labyrinth of left and right turns and dead-ends,
before you reach where you are going-
all you can do is make the choices that feel right
at the time that you are making them, don’t fight change,
embrace and learn from what you don’t understand instead.

Living a life to its fullest can be risky,
but if you are very lucky, along the way,
you will see things that others could never imagine,
you will go places so beautiful,
you will meet so many extraordinary people,
you will make great discoveries,
you will win prizes.
The more you live, the more you realize that the universe
and nature, as a whole, isn’t driven by facts and knowledge,
or about measurements, or sizes;
the universe and nature,
no matter what we think we know about it and its nature,
is still full of surprises.

My Poem ‘Coffee and Clouds’

On an early-morning flight-
just as the sun rises in the sky
and brings alive the clouds
like a wave of fire frozen in time,
like a magical world being expressed
by someone’s incredible and inspired imagination-
a man looks out his window
and simply cannot believe what he is seeing.
He cannot think, he cannot move,
he just knows that he is here for a reason.
He is sitting in his chair on a plane flying 500mph,
in the atmosphere of a planet spinning 1000mph,
with a heart in his chest beating like an unrested drum.
The man isn’t going far,
but to him every flight is like a trip to the moon.
Even as he watches the electric blue
and serene open air above the clouds,
the man swears for a moment
that he sees shooting-stars descend and streak
from above to below in short sucession-
not a trick of the light,
or momentary bursts from the sun-
actual asteroids and meteors from another world
choosing now to reign down from the heavens,
to fall into view and end their billion-year journey
right in front of him.

As the man takes a sip of hot coffee
he wonders for a second how the cup came into his hand,
who handed it to him, how unearthly and incredible the coffee tastes,
if he looked away from the window,
because he doesn’t remember when or for how long.
As the hot coffee rests in his mouth for a second
and then rushes down his throat,
the view outside the window, outside the plane,
intensifies within the blink of an eye,
and the man feels like the plane and his fellow passengers
are suddenly flying on the airplanes wings-
fixed in position, but able to be swept on their journey
by the breeze on their face and through their hair,
and by the feeling of unbelievable freedom.
It isn’t until the plane hits a slight patch of turbulence
that the man regains his faculties and his focus
and remembers where he is.

The air is different up here.
Everything you feel, think, and experience,
while free of gravity, goes straight to your head,
in ways only an astronaut could reciprocate,
or someone who finds love and happiness
for the first time in their life.

The man sleeps.
While still believing he is still awake,
while believing that he has been awake for the entire flight,
forgetting the brief conversation that he had with a passenger
who mistook him for a celebrity
while making their way back from the bathroom.
The man wakes.
The man feels more refreshed than he has done in years.
The man feels like he has been looking out the window
for what seemed like seconds,
before the announcement rang-out
and the “fasten your seat-belts” sign became illuminated
indicating that he and the plane were descending to there destination.

What does it all mean? The man asked himself,
as they passed though the clouds.
Everything means something, he repeated to himself,
from the stirred coffee in your cup that swirls
and resembles the spiral of a galaxy,
to the beautiful shapes and colours that you discover
while you’re among the clouds.

My Poem ‘The Streets Are Art’

From the rooftops of London,
to the market squares of Belize;
from the skyscrapers of New York City,
to the districts of downtown Los Angeles-
the streets are art of the most exquisite kind,
what wonders there are to be found around every corner-
it would be a crime to be blind.

From the inspired graffiti of Banksy,
to the spectacular neon-light metropolis of Tokyo;
from the beautiful avenues of Paris,
to the Las Vegas strips illuminated hotels and casinos.
The art of our cities and towns is ever-present in its architecture,
you can see a buildings story in the colour of its bricks;
the art that has always been there
and the art that has built-up over time
melds together harmoniously to the artistic eye,
as if it was always meant to have been mixed.

From the multi-coloured facades of Portobello Road in London,
to the wavy pavements of Copacabana in Rio de Janeiro;
from the sizzling streets of Miami beach,
to the ancient suburbs of Cairo-
amazing man-made creations show off, in full-display,
humanities limitless innovation, creativity, and inspiration:
from expressions of remembrance, to the statues of our heroes-
every detail of every landmark is worthy of exploration.

The streets of our cities are like the neurons of a brain,
constantly transmitting information and details about everything
that is connected to its network;
the art of our cities streets is always on the move,
being made and remade, over and over again-
from advertisements, to the colours that people choose to wear for work.
Every street on our planet is electric and interesting
for all sorts of reasons,
and the streets of every city keep the beat of modern society
going like a heart;
all the streets are vibrant and telling,
and like anywhere you look in a gallery,
everywhere you look in any city on Earth
you will see that the streets are art.