You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Write’ tag.

I have written on planes;
I have written on trains;
I have written in cars;
I have written in bars;
I have written while working;
I have written while searching;
I have written on paper;
I have written on a computer;
I have written for someone;
I have written about someone;
I have written for myself;
I have written for my health;
I have written with a smile;
I have written while walking a mile;
I have written in tears;
I have written for hours that felt like years;
I have written in the sun;
I have written for fun;
I have written to make things right;
I have written just so that I could write.

image

It’s always strange looking back at old photographs
of yourself for some reason,
we sometimes feel more comfortable looking at picture of others-
it’s a weird moment of reflection that occurs,
and a wave of deep introspection that engulfs you
and helps to resurface memories and emotions
you have felt which are closely associated
with unforgettable thoughts that you had
and lived every second of that you dream about sometimes
when you are under the covers.

Looking at old photos, reading back old diary entries,
experiences, and memories, that you recorded,
but forgot about-
looking and finding a piece of your past
always reminds you, and always reminds me,
instantly of where I was, who I was, what I was thinking,
and what life was showing me and guiding me to
with its many sign-posts;
reading a note that we once wrote,
and which ended up being left intact for us to find again one day,
now and forever reminds me again and again
that things happen for a reason and are meant to happen
beyond any doubt.

I have been to many places,
and I love to go back to these same places on a different day,
at a different time, with a clutch of new colours
to my life and me in-toe.
Every day, everyone, and every place is different-
even though they and we may look and feel the same,
everything and everyone changes,
life in fact dictates this for its and our own survival,
and that is the best way to think
and the best way to go.

I look back often, because memories are important to me-
as are the people that I have met, all and every one.
I take pictures of lots of things, and self-portraits of myself
everyday to record and make a moment and a memory last
for as long as it can.
I look forward, and I look around me, every day at
the people in my life, and who I see every day with my cyan-coloured eyes.
I write and capture as much as I can.
I am inspired, and I share every hello that makes me smile,
and every goodbye that makes me cry.

There are things that happen to us that are incredibly
and intensely personal, and they should be kept
and they should stay that way-
but I do believe that there are a great many things
that happen to all of us that must be shared,
because they too can light-up the life
and brighten the face of someone else and make their day.

The world can seem like a smaller place now,
because we can share any-thing and every-thing
with literally millions of people simultaneously
all around the world in an instant;
the world feels more interconnected,
and our lives have become more interlaced,
and sewn-together like a patch-work quilt.
Ever since I was a child I have always felt
someone’s presence before I saw them,
and ever since I went to school, and I started meeting
new kids and I started making friends,
I instantly realized the importance and the power,
the brilliance and the magic, of strangers,
friends, and unique once in a life-time memories.

Life begins, and passes you by in a flash
that can seem, when you look back,
to have all happened in the fraction of a second.
There is more that happens to us than we realize,
and there is more to see than could ever be seen,
by you and by me,
but I just enjoy and live every second
as if each and every one was my last on Earth,
and I love the gift of life and living free
so much that I have to write when I can
about the poetry in my heart, and all around us-
when I sit down and share with as many people as I can
the exposure of the world that I see
in my poetography.

image

There is something so beautiful;
there is something so breath-taking;
there is something so amazing;
there is something so special;
there is something so mesmerizing, fascinating,
hypnotic, gorgeous, and true, and a part of you;
there is something so wonderful, brilliant, and incredible,
and nothing more personal and exceptional,
than something, or the name of someone
who means something to you,
drawn and painted on your skin in the form of a tattoo.

I am always amazed when I see someone’s tattoo
and beautiful body-art and it makes me go wow!
The human body is a thing of indescribable beauty anyway-
from birth to death-
but someones beautiful and ingrained designs
that they choose to mark their skin and paint themselves with
to me are beautiful, great, and magical,
and someone’s tattoo, to me, is also an important part of them,
and a noticeable tease of who they are,
what they like, who and what makes their heart beat fast,
and ties them and writes even more so
into the constantly-evolving human story and living myth.

I have seen tattoos and body-art of many forms-
from the beautiful painting of a heart with a keyhole inside it
on someone’s chest, to the gorgeous and phenomenal sight
of butterflies on someone’s back that I cannot get enough of;
I have seen the names of someone’s beloved and soulmate
written up someone’s arm;
I have seen and read the most staggering and wonderful
indellible inscriptions of eternal love;
I have seen song-lyrics, artists,
sacred and meaningful symbols of hope on someone’s body
that look as if they have always been a part of someone;
I have been in-awe by the sight of Angels wings,
the face of a tiger, a spider, a web,
a unique design of someone’s own imagining
that I always look in wonder,
and I always want to ask why and how
they chose the design and where the thought behind it came from.

To me, tattoos and body-art are like poetry.
To me, tattoos and body-art and are a written chapter,
an answer, and a question, that you and anyone
can see, remember, ask, think.
To me, a tattoo and body-art is a symbol
and a celebration of someone being liberated,
connected to something greater,
as well as being free.
To me, art is inspiring and the best thing in the entire world,
and the most sincere, and the most amazing expression,
and there is no better, resonant, long-lasting, and important,
than art painted on your body,
and a beautiful tattoo drawn in ink.

There is no greater thing to give,
and there is no greater thing to receive,
there is no greater expression
that you are thinking of someone, than a card-
especially this time of the year;
to me, there is something special,
more so than any gift or present of any size,
about the knowledge that people are in each other’s thoughts
no matter where they live, nor the reality that they don’t talk
or see each other as much as they used to anymore;
to me, knowing that I have picked and written in a card for someone,
and that someone has picked and written in a card especially for me,
means something to me, and because I am who I am
I read light-years into every word, and I pay especial focus and attention
to the ever-present poetry.

I love taking the time to make a card.
I love sitting down while thinking about the person I am writing to,
and letting my feelings and emotions flow from me
and become imbued in the ink that I am writing in.
I love having the gift to be able to express so easily
what others sometimes find hard.
I love retracing my own footprints
and reuniting with old memories of friends and family
at special moments of our shared lives together,
and remembering and reliving those things we have seen,
and returning to the place where we have been.

There is a card for every occasion.
There is a card for everyone.
There is a card to be made in everyone’s imagination.
There is a card to be created that can be a simple sentence
and sentiment that even though it may only be short
can be what you really want to say in a way
that is the culmination of elation, affection, explanation,
and liberation, that needs no translation.

Messages are precious. Time is finite.
What we say sometimes is fast, frenetic,
unforgettable, and often times in a rush.
How we spend our days and hours is often split and divided
between different relationships with very different people that we know,
and it is sometimes hard to know where you are
until you turn out the light at night.

To me, a card- a birthday card, a Christmas card,
a postcard, a get well card, an anniversary card-
is a great and a wonderful thing,
because it is an opportunity, a place, a way,
a method, and a means, that is more special and means more
than a text message, an email, or a phone call-
for some that is the only way they have to reach out
and make contact with someone,
and those messages and calls mean the world,
and being able to share something, anything,
from one person to another is so incredible.

The right card to send someone and the right thing to write inside
can take a lot of thought, but it shouldn’t have to be a science
and it doesn’t have to be a masterpiece of art.
The right message and remark does not have to be the most amazing
and poetic declaration ever written, or ever said-
as long as what you really want to communicate is there for anyone
and all to see and read by anybody who sends, receives,
opens, writes, and reads, something in a card.

Photobucket

Archives

Twitter Updates

Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Poetographic

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: