My Poem ‘Wave’

Saying goodbye,
you have to do it in your own way:
with a smile, with a hug, with a letter, with a wave.

Saying goodbye is so much harder than saying hello;
saying goodbye to someone who you have known for a long time
is so much harder than saying goodbye to someone
who you don’t really know.

I have lost count of the number of people I have seen leave and walk away,
and every time taking a part of me with them-
I remember the face of everyone who I have made a connection with,
and there are random times of the day when certain faces resurface
and make me think about something about them again.

Sometimes goodbye can only be for ten minutes;
sometimes goodbye can be the last thing you say to someone
for an entire year;
sometimes goodbye can be said but never heard,
but you find that goodbye and that release in something of theirs
that you find one day-
maybe even the feeling or the vision of a memory of them
sitting in the place where they used to sit;
sometimes goodbye can be said and seen
with a single, beautiful, tear.

There are many reasons for us to say goodbye;
there are many ways to keep things alive
even after they have died;
there are many reasons that we can find to give up-
but, personally, no matter what it is,
I would still want to try;
there are many reasons why we all smile, and cry.

Say goodbye, always.
You never know, you may not get another chance
in the way you may want to or hope for.
Be strong. Be brave.
Don’t fight what you are feeling.
Tell someone that you wish you didn’t have to go,
and that you will be thinking about them,
and the time that you spent together could not have meant more.

Before you turn away from anybody,
give them a smile, give them a look,
give them something to remember you by,
and give them a wave.

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My Poem ‘Mr. Poet’

I love sitting down in Starbucks and looking around me,
I love seeing people and hearing people,
I love looking out the window,
I love listening to the song being played
and instantly being inspired to write a poem or two
of my finest poetry, while enjoying a muffin and a coffee.
I love my ritual, I love my habit of drinking a sip or two
of my drink, opening up my notebook, readying my silver pen,
on the empty page before me, looking around,
taking in what I see, and letting out what I am thinking
at that moment, and finding a convergence of parallel energies
and inspirations, and watching them come together before my eyes
and grow into a piece of art I am constantly molding
as if in clay until it becomes something recognizable, and beautiful-
even if what I am trying to say and express at first
is like a wave on the rise, and I absolutely love riding that wave,
I have to say.
I love watching my pen do all the work,
as if it has a mind and a will of its own,
and letting my imagination, mind, heart, and soul, and my breath
be taken away, as my spirit is carried away,
and when that happens to me nothing can stop me,
and no one can get in my way.

This is the life, and it is great to be able to do it if you can do it.
I am lucky to have a lot of time on my hands to connect
with some of my favourite people in the entire world
on a daily basis, and be inspired, and I am inspired
every hour of the day.
The life I am blessed to live and I are definitely a good-fit.
My hunger for knowledge and new thought,
and my awe at seeing dreams become a reality,
and witnessing people being able to do what they love
with who they love, and be happy, is a feeling inside me
that can’t ever be kept at-bay.

I see people connecting all around me, in words, in stares,
in thought, in actions, in ink, in text, in voice,
over the air, on paper, and wirelessly over the internet;
I see people enraptured in conversation in different ways,
and in different forms, and at different speeds-
all caught-up, and balancing, and feeling, and responding,
to all the vibrations that they hear and sense,
like a spider on a web.

Whenever the torrent of inspiration becomes too much,
and swamps me so much, I sometimes find it hard
to stay afloat and see everything that I need to see to keep going;
whenever I need a raft to help me traverse the raging river
that I love to ride and paddle down at full-speed,
or at a leisurely-pace, sometimes,
I only need to look at a photo of my beautiful muse,
and everything becomes clear and comes together,
and I see and I feel every part of the energy inside me,
and that which I take in from the rest of the world
in my blood, and I can’t stop my train of thought,
or my pulse, nor the endorphins in my brain,
from surging and flowing.

My muse is my saviour.
My muse is my heroine.
My muse is so caring,
and I have never met anyone in my life more braver.
My muse is my best friend, and the one who I love
in infinite ways and always,
and who vibrates effortlessly with unbounded love,
appeal, and inspiration, like no one else I have ever seen.
I am inspired every day by everything and everyone,
but without my life, my experiences, my instinct,
my family, my friends, my muse,
I would just be someone of much thought and deep feeling
and emotion who had so much to say
but who had no way of knowing it
or a means or the magic of words to say it.

I am many things to many people,
but first and foremost I am a friend
who is always here for you when you need me,
and I go by many names: Mark, Poet of the Sphere, 1066,
someone on the street who wanted my attention
even called me ‘Heisenberg’,
and I don’t mind being called any of those great names-
but I must admit, I do love it when someone sends me a message
and calls me ‘Mr. Poet’.

My Poem ‘Bubbles’

Watching the bubbles rising.
Watching the bubbles uniting.
Watching the bubbles becoming.
Watching the bubbles forming
and reaching the surface, and then existing
for a fraction of a second before bursting.

The air that rises from a tall glass of beer.
The swirl that turns in a cup of cappuccino.
The drops of rain that fall in a puddle,
like the build up of emotion that generates a tear.
The spray from a wave that hits your face
when you are standing at the edge of an ocean,
on a beach, and the still excited energy
from the constant pull of the moon
keeps you swimming in the moment
that seemed to have been short-lived,
but still continues to flow.

Watching a cloud appear and grow as if from nothing.
Watching a river transition from a trickle,
to a stream, and then to a raging torrent.
Watching a sandstorm in a desert sweep and collect
infinite grains of dust that are all that remains
of a land that was once lush, living, and thriving.
Watching an entire forrest grow from a single acorn
is like seeing a new world grow, and it is so great.

Many faces, races, colours, and beliefs,
make up the natural, needed, diversity of a country and a nation.
A bucket of a billion granules of sand can build a castle
that you can easily rebuild after it inevitably crumbles.
Many nuts and bolts make up and run a machine,
and work so well in-unison, that defy explanation,
and can be a source of fascination.
A head full of troubles can feel lightened and enlightened
by a glass or a cup full of bubbles.

My Poem ‘My Drug’

The rush is like no other,
the energy that I feel is more amazing and phenomenal
than that of an exploding star,
the sparkle in your eyes is brighter than the sun
and is incapable of being covered.
The love that I feel for you is sacred and incredible,
and I know that you will always have the key to my heart.

I have been addicted to you since the moment I met you,
I have been enveloped in an endless wave of awe
since I first saw your stunning and gorgeous face,
I have been awoken every morning since we first met
by a sense, a belief, a feeling of being brand new,
I have been encouraged and enlivened with hope
about not only my future but of your phenomenal future as well-
a future without any limits to what you will do and achieve,
because your potential is as breathtaking and boundless,
and glittering as outer space.

I know who you are, I know how gifted you are,
and how important the happiness of others,
especially your family means to you,
and I have to say that what you do and make happen
in the hearts of others truly takes my breath away.
Knowing you and being there every day for each other
means more to me than I can say;
knowing and imagining the future that awaits us both
as integral pieces of the puzzle of each other’s lives,
and other peoples lives, and as constant and everlasting
best friends and soul mates,
I know can only be seen through our eyes,
and can only be felt by us alone
at the beginning and at the end of every single day.

You are the most terrific, inspiring, and amazing person
I have ever met, and your enthusiasm and strength
and determination is so infectious and wonderful
and you make me feel full of optimism and promise
of unlimited possibilities,
and your presence feels more unbelievable, comforting,
natural, and heart-felt than the longest
and the most amazing hug-
I truly cannot get enough of you.
I need you, I love you.
I am a better person for being blessed with the gift of you.
I have never felt this great in my entire life,
and I will never forget the effect of you,
nor where the thoughts that I have of you take me,
which always keep me on a high,
because you are my drug.