The Little Things

  

 

A glass of water

The smile of your daughter

The smell of grass, a touch, a kiss

The simple things most people miss

 

The moon, the sun

The smoothness of a stone

The mountains covered in mist

The symphonies that exist within a lovers moan

The coolness of a breeze, the whispering of trees

 What do most people care for simple pleasures such as these?

 

Instead

We stare at our feet

When we walk down a city street

We ignore need for the sake of greed

We rip down forests & make rivers bleed

We hear an animals’ cry and we dismiss it

We poison the sky & we kick the earth when we should kiss it

 

What insanity, what vanity, what disdain

We have such a capacity for good

But seem bent on causing pain

 

We see ourselves at the top of the tree

We fool ourselves in the duplicity of our own divinity

Within our eager ascension to this planets throne

We have left ourselves isolated and alone

Within the complexity of our superiority

We have lost the ability to see

 

We have lost the simplicity

The simple truth hidden behind all the lies

 & that is…

 

We don’t need angels’ wings to see the beauty in things

We don’t need Gods’ permission to see the sun rise

 We just have to open our eyes

 

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Do you live?

Do you love?

Do you dance?

Do you still believe in a world filled with romance?

 

This world can be a beautiful inspiring place if you take the time to look

For beauty does not just belong in children’s books

Everyday people amaze me with their selflessness…

 

A mother putting her children first

An act of kindness unrehearsed

It can be big. It can be small

It doesn’t matter at all

 

All that matters is that it happens…

 

People fight unbelievable battles, bigotry & hate

They fight unbeatable illnesses, sadness & fate

They devote themselves to helping others,

to protecting animals, to feeding & clothing the poor

They dedicate themselves to giving more

 

They do it with such vitality, such willingness, such grace

They make this world a beautiful place

 

What about you?

How do you see the world?

How do you view it this very moment? this very day?

Do you see the light or does the darkness get in the way?

Do you see the beauty glimmering behind the curtain?

Or has this life left you uncertain?

 

Well…

I see it like this

I see it in all the little things a lot of people miss

 

This world can seem hard & unfair

A place where people don’t care

A world devoid of new beginnings

This life can seem like a lottery with no chance of winning

It can seem futile & unforgiving

For some people it can seem not worth living

 

Tomorrow we may die of cancer

Tomorrow we may get hit by a bus

This world is not permanent for all of us

This world is filled with things we can’t control

But we cannot let the darkness bind our soul.

 

For each new day

We have a chance to say, “This world begins anew”

A chance to fill our hearts with something beautiful.

Something true.

 

We have a chance to shine. A chance to be the light.

It doesn’t matter if we shine as bright as a star

It doesn’t matter if we blind the world with our brilliance.

It doesn’t matter if we shine like the simple sweet smile of a child.

It doesn’t matter if we shine with the gentle luminescence

of a kind thought or tender touch.

The wattage doesn’t matter much.

All that matters is that we shine

 

This world can seem angry, strange & cold.

We can forget the importance of ourselves sometimes.

We can lose ourselves in the dark.

Trapped by our own irrelevance, we cannot see for ourselves a way out.

But within this world there is a thread.

An almost intangible link. An essence that runs thru us all.

That entwines our existence to every living thing.

A divine commonality that connects us all.

A golden thread that is so delicate

it is almost lost to a world of darkness & self obsessions.

But it is held visible within the little things.

The simple things that most people miss.

A touch. A smile. A kiss.

It can seem almost insignificant.

But it is the thread that connects us all.

It is this thread that leads us to the big picture

It is this thread that gives us peace & allows us to shine

& when we shine the world becomes a little clearer.

 

For when we are gone,

the sun will still rise & the stars will still shine.

This world is not yours & this world is not mine.

This world will go on without us

 

The truth is we are not the stars of this play

At best we are merely spotlights in the stands

But for a time we have a chance to show the way

We hold the beacon in our hands

 

For we are the new sun that shines today

 

We are “Dies Natalis Solis Invicti!”

We are, “The Birthday of The Invincible Sun!”

& Our time upon this earth has just begun

 

What you choose to do with your time is your decision

 

But..

Remember this

 

If we shine, then we are the spark

If we shine, we can light up the dark

If we shine, then we can inspire

& If we all shine,

 

WE CAN SET THIS WORLD ON FIRE!!!

 

 

 

Leaves Meander From The Trees

 

 

 I love autumn.

It’s such a glorious time of year.  

I love the smell. I love the touch. I love the feel.

I lose myself within a patchwork world of oranges, yellows & reds.

I love these colours. They smother me with their brilliance.

They encompass me with their warmth. A warmth not born of the sun,

 but of open hearth fires, steaming bowls of soup & warm toasty blankets.

This time of year always makes me feel like a kid again.

 It brings to mind memories of walking home from school & marvelling

at the changing leaves of the Chinese tallowwoods that lined our street.

In visions of my childhood they are like fireworks blistering the silver sky.

 

My question for you is this:

Why is it that only animals and small children understand the glory of

rolling around unabashedly in autumn leaves?

 

The answer:

We never lose magic, we only take it away from ourselves.

 

 

This Molten Skin

 

   

This molten skin

This slow smouldering from within

 

It starts with an itch

The biting of a small ant

Barely perceived by tender flesh

Its’ shiny black mandibles stuck in my pores

 

Deep within me something stirs

A single bubble comes to the surface & my epidermis shimmers still

Something rises against my will

 

I sweat and my mouth runs dry on the river of desire

I am like a struck match the moment before it catches fire

 

I cannot BARE TO THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE

I AM ALL CONSUMED BY THE FIRES OF MY IMAGINATION

 

I am like primitive childhood art

All red & yellows & splashed oranges

Throbbing, Burning colours pulsing through my heart

 

I am Krakatoa

I am Mt Vesuvius

 

& I feel like I have copulated with the night & given birth to fire & light

like the gods of ancient have chosen me to fuck

& been left exhilarated by my touch

 

burned bright by my humanity

 

illuminated

 

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When I was penning this poem

I wanted people to get an idea of what it feels like when I write.

It’s like I’m tapped into something primal;

connected to the thread of humanity that entwines us all.

I wanted to convey the urgency of it, the breathlessness, the need

I wanted to give a sense of the overwhelming sensuality of it all.

Poetry for me can be best described as a burning orgasm of the brain.   

A delicious manipulation of the cerebrum.

Like sex with an angel on a runaway equine.

 

Dangerous. Out of control.

Sublime