You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘writer’ tag.
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.
Hi, everyone! 🙂
If you have been reading my poems, and visiting my site, regurlarly,
or perhaps if you are a new reader, and a new visitor here,
I am sure that you will have already figured out that I am a very
passionate, intense (sometimes), inspired, imaginative,
deep-feeling, hopeful, optimistic, lover of the written word
and of the power of imagination and dreams-
and I am here to say that dreams do come true,
and I know they do because they have come true for me
on more than one occasion,
and there is no greater example and gift that I can present to you
as proof of dreams and the importance of following your passion
and doing everything to make your dreams come true no matter what,
than my book ‘Poet of the Sphere’ and my new book ‘The Sound of Mark’,
which are availible to buy right now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and The Book Depository!
My first book ‘Poet of the Sphere’ was a miracle and dream come true,
on so many levels, and I will forever be in awe of it,
and hold it close to my heart;
my new book ‘The Sound of Mark’, that was published just a few days ago,
is a reminder and torch of hope for me, and I hope for a lot of people,
for me and everyone to take a hold of, look at, and do with it what they may.
My poetry means something to me, because my poetry is literally my life:
my feelings, my thoughts, my interests, my observations,
my hopes, my dreams, my heroes, my fears, my friends, my loves,
my world- my poetry is very personal to me,
and my poems are better read and understood, I would guess,
as diary or journal entries written by me about what is happening
and about who I am at a particular, fleeting, precious,
moment in time that will never come again,
and that is how I believe each and every one of us should think about
our lives and about life itself-
because you only have one life, and you only have a short window of opportunity
to be who you are, and who you want to be,
and to live like their is no tomorrow.
‘The Sound of Mark’ is me, it is a journey, it is my journey;
however, when you read it, if you read it,
think of yourself as me and give yourself to the words that you read,
and relive my journey with me, and allow my poetry to inspire you, hopefully,
to go off and be the adventurer and writer of your own journey,
and be the best person that you can be!
I hope you will buy, like, and enjoy my new book!
Every poem in the book can be found on my site already,
but when read as a book and as a story in book-form
every poem is like a key to a door within a house of over a hundred rooms,
and as you go from room to room, and from poem to poem,
you will discover something about me,
and perhaps something about yourself! 🙂
The paperback and Kindle version of ‘The Sound of Mark’
is available online @ Amazon.com: http://amzn.com/1938082036
@ Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1938082036
@ Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/ZtqWMM
@ The Book Depository: http://bit.ly/1r5ctB2
-Mark
You saved me as soon as I met you,
you caught me as I fell,
you raised me up from the gloom,
you made me come out of my shell.
A hero doesn’t always need a suit,
a hero doesn’t always need a name,
a hero can give you something to listen to
when you have been spending a lot of you time
having the rest of the world on mute,
a hero can be someone who saves you every day
again and again.
You saw me instantly for who I was,
you accepted me for all my flaws,
you embraced everything I gave
and gave back to me the most incredible love,
you created doors where there were only walls.
A hero is always there when they are needed,
a hero is constantly on a journey,
a hero can be any age, in any walk of life-
a hero can be a teacher, policeman or a policewoman,
a carer, an artist, a writer, a friend-
and the most unique, but humble, unbelievable,
and special person you have ever met,
because they can always lift you up and show you
things you can’t see.
You were like a burst of beautiful light from the sky,
you carried me far and away like a kite on the wind,
you would give you last dollar to anyone in need,
because you are so generous, and because you are kind-
you cared for me when one person to hold me
and never let me go was all that I wanted.
A hero has super-powers,
but sometimes not those that you would expect,
and to see them for how incredible and super they are
you have to see them for what they are.
A hero knows you and would never forget you.
A hero would never take you for granted
and would always see you and describe you as a star.
A hero is a hero no matter where they are-
sometimes they don’t even realize that they are a hero,
because they are who they are, and they just do what they do.
You make me smile every day.
You have saved me countless times since we met,
in more ways than you will ever know.
You fill me with hope, and when I am with you I am unafraid.
You are untouchable, you are bullet-proof.
You are a dream come true, you are my hero.
Every adventure begins with a dream;
every epic starts with a first step;
every day begins with a sunrise
that you may not always see;
every ocean starts with that very first drop.
Every singer starts by singing into a hair-brush;
every author begins by first writing in a diary;
every musician starts with an imaginary instrument-
like an air-guitar- while listening to their favourite music
full-blast, and being told to turn the music down
with a bang on the wall, or a hush;
every song-writer begins writing songs as poetry.
Every driver starts by having a go behind the wheel
of their parents car;
every life full of language and conversation
begins with that first word;
every humanitarian, or doctor, starts every day of their calling
with the oath ‘to do no harm’;
every disease that was ever thought to be wholly-untreatable
will one day be found to have a cure.
Every happy life begins with that first friend;
every band began with that first practice-session;
every new beginning started with an end;
every great relationship began with a question.
Every fortune started with that first penny;
every chain began with that first link;
every thing about who you are and who you will be
goes back and can be traced to who is your family;
every change of perspective begins by you considering
a possibility that you never thought to every think.
Every collection begins with that first item that you treasure;
every place of peace and serenity started as the place
where you always wanted to be when you were a kid;
every passion should always be a pleasure.
Every singer, every musician, every poet, every astronaut,
every teacher, every vet, every soldier, every inventor,
every gardener, can always go back
and point to the time, and they can always tell you what,
and where it all began, and where it all started.
I wonder how many people leave their house and home these days
every morning without a plan or a roadmap
of what they are going to do;
I wonder how many people embrace
the not knowing what is going to happen;
I wonder how many people are truly free to think,
stop talking, look, and listen;
I wonder how many people are truly able
to stay in one spot and not move.
I am lucky to be able to do just that,
I am lucky to be able to sit back and relax
with a coffee in a comfy chair, like I am doing now,
looking out, and thinking about so many things-
I know not what-
and just writing something, anything,
whatever is on my mind, and what I see-
wanting to say what I can’t say outloud.
People love to express themselves so much,
people love to talk and share more than they realize,
people can’t wait to divulge,
people can’t wait to tell someone something face to face-
it’s written all over their expressions,
and you can tell that they have been desperate to disclose
their inner thoughts and opinions,
from the twinkle that you see in their eyes.
I don’t mean to be a watcher, and an observer of other people
just going about their daily lives;
I don’t mean to be a magpie of the interesting things
that I hear people say-
the chat of friends meeting up after a long while,
the back and forth of boyfriends, girlfriends,
husbands, and wives;
but I am always fascinated and entranced
by the stories of everyone I briefly come into contact with-
while I just sit there, drink,
take out my notebook, and think;
but I don’t think people truly realize how much they give.
I do this a lot, actually.
Every week I find myself at my favourite coffee house,
and I write about what is on my mind-
what I am feeling, and I am always asking a question of myself,
as I talk at the top of my voice
in the language of poetry,
because some things, I have discovered, cannot be said
without first finding the words and the means
to say what you want to say,
without the feeling of being limited in any way, or confined.
This poem, like most of my poems,
is a memory, a time-capsule,
a black and white fraction of time,
that was a part of my day, today.
This poem, like most of my poems,
is, and was, just a musing, a burst of inspiration,
and creativity, that I wanted to share,
and write, right away.
Someone once said:
“I don’t care what you do, just be profound.
Wherever you go, whatever you say,
give everyone a reason to listen to what you are saying,
and to write your name on the ground.”
If you are an artist,
then create a work of art to spur others on
to create their own masterpiece;
if you are a musician,
compose opus after opus
so that when people listen to your music in their head
they are always at peace.
Always strive for perfection,
even if you believe you will never achieve it-
one persons morning is another persons night-
everything you make and create will find its intended.
Great profundity happens everyday, and nearly always accidentally;
truth comes from repetition, experience, and wisdom;
inspiration comes from a momentary clear view of the connection of all things-
that changes the way you see and think about things fundamentally.
Like everything, perfection’s definition
is always down to interpretation, and personification-
how everyone feels about something is subjective, selective,
based on sensation;
after experiencing a piece of art,
where one person may take offense,
another may feel enriched and overcome with elation.
Music is the same way:
where some may only hear “noise”,
another may be moved to tears by a songs emotion, energy, and poise.
Perfection, to me, is something or someone
that opens your mind and your heart to new possibilities-
something or someone, which or whom, awakens in you new abilities,
and frees you of any and all of your anxieties.
If that is the case, then I can honestly say
that I see and hear perfection everyday
in my family, in my friends, in the people that I adore,
and in the songs that I listen to- which are always on continuous play.
To make a difference in life,
you don’t need money, you don’t need what everyone else has,
you don’t even need to be famous or renowned-
to make a difference in this life,
you need an idea, you need a fully-formed and imagined picture in your head,
of what you want to do;
then you need to give all that you have got to a perfect moment,
and just be profound.
A wanderer and writer of embrace and rhyme-
like a traveller of dimension’s, space, and time;
I am a Poet, an observer, a lover of words and people,
who loves to write about the world as if seeing it from a steeple:
looking at everything and everyone, and seeing it as it is: as one,
from horizon to horizon being bathed in the energy and light of the sun-
whether it be a hamlet, a town, a city, a region, a state,
or an entire country: everything and everyone has a story to tell that relates.
The thrill of imagining, creating, imparting new life into common connections:
everyday thoughts, feelings, sights, and sounds, and renewing them into projections,
is what I love to do, to imbue, to write about, and to convey-
what I think about, what I dream about, and what inspires me every hour of every day.
I like to think of myself not so dissimilar to the wandering minstrel of old,
who travelled from town to town with music and the retelling of stories he had been told;
however, I guess, I am more of a twenty-first century minstrel, poet, and bard-
who, with the help of the internet, loves to share his poetry with the world at large.
The freedom to imagine, to express; the ability to go where no one has gone before,
is the gift of every person on this planet- to seek their hearts desire, and to explore.
To me, poetry is the road that has no end; to me, poetry is my unlimited currency to spend;
to me, poetry is a connection to the universe that I would highly recommend;
to me, poetry has a power unto itself- that can connect every man, woman, lover, and friend.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 