Thursday, 13 November 2008

"Hideaway"

Before I write Part Three of my story I just wanted to share this song with you. The words resonate so much with me and my experiences, including the part about "shuffling off to Rio de Janeiro"!
It is "Hideaway" sung by Barbra Streisand with lyrics by Barry Gibb.
Here is the video and the lyrics are below:

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I saw you looking in the mirror
I saw you fighting with your conscious
I think you need a little time away
And I may give you mine

And you could find me in the moon glow
You find me underneath your pillow
And we can find a little hideaway
Where we can go

I'm in the corner with a friend of mine
I stood with my defenses down
So many things that bring you close to me
That we be led astray

The wonder of desire
To love the things we cannot touch
Maybe we turn and say goodnight
And walk away

And then the story can go on without
A single tear
You take a chance on it
And change the history

And for a time we fall in love with someone
So who am I to say the words that say
We have found each other
Can we imagine any hideaway is right?

And our adventure
Down in paradise
Borne upon the wind
And we are one with the night

Maybe we shuffle off to Rio
A little Rio de Janeiro
And then I get a little chance to say
I'm falling into you!

And you and I can change the world
If we just try (One hideaway)
This lonely heart of mine has found
A mission for your light (In your world)

To make the sense of it
And solve the mystery (In my arms)
It's just the love you forever leave
With someone

So who am I to say the words that say
We've found each other? (One sunny day)
Can we imagine any
Hideaway is right (In your world)

And our adventure
Down in paradise (In my arms)
Born upon the wind
And we are one with the night

And our adventure down in paradise
Borne upon the wind
And we are one with the night
Hmmm-Hmmmmmm

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part Two


Part Two - "Finding Love And Leaving London":

The Spanish music was playing loudly in the Tapas bar, some "Gypsy Kings" style music, and the whole place was buzzing with life and energy on that Saturday night.
"Do you want another drink?" he said "Yeah, I'll have a Grolsch lager please!" I said as I watched him go to the bar, whilst my two friends came over to shout "Oi Oi!!" and "Get in there my son!" in my ear - my London friends are total yobs!

The music was still playing but I couldn't hear any of it, all I could hear was the voice of... let's call him Antonio... His strong latin accent sounding every word in English as if it was music written by Tom Jobim...
We spoke all night long in that bar, oblivious to all the noise going on around us, and we talked about everything, never before had I met anyone so charming, so charismatic and who really listened to everything I said with genuine interest and understanding.
He was six years older than me, he was intelligent, had travelled to many different countries and at that time he was working as a head chef in a good London restaurant. He had dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin and was extremely handsome. He told me he is what is known as a "Carioca" which is the name given to someone who is from Rio de Janeiro, where he was born.

The night was coming to an end and the bar was emptying out, the people all going home or going on to one of the many clubs in my neighbourhood...
"I want to take you out for a meal tomorrow night" he said "Where?" I said "I'll find a great place, just meet me outside the Empire Leicester Square tomorrow night at 8!" he said
"O.k. cool!, great!" I said, as we exchanged telephone numbers outside the bar. He got a cab as I walked home to my apartment, which was only around the corner.

The following nights went by and we decided to start dating as we were falling in love, we got along so well and the chemistry was wonderful.
Other relationships I had been in were sometimes awkward, you know those awkward moments in a restaurant when one person is looking at the other one not knowing what to say and searching everything in their mind to say at least something and not look like an absolute idiot?! Well there were none of those moments with us, as every single moment we were talking, laughing and joking, it was great.

After some weeks Antonio moved in with me in my apartment and we lived there for quite some months, both working and going out every weekend together.
I felt a huge change within myself, I was extremely happy, I was happier than any other time in my life and I felt wonderful, I was walking on air laced with a Brazilian accent.
I had dated girls and guys in the past but this was different, this was real and I knew it.
As I remembered the other people I had dated in my past they all just seemed so insignificant, you see I had never really been in love before, not real love, not until now.

The months went by, my family had been introduced to Antonio in the very beginning and everyone loved him, especially my Mum.
At Christmas we were all at my Mum and Dad's house celebrating, eating and drinking champagne with music playing in the background. My Mum's two favourite singers were Elton John and Luciano Pavarotti and she put on the CD single that they had recorded together that I had got her from my work the year before, called "Live Like Horses"
I was watching my Mum and she was so happy, we all were. She was singing along to the song as she laughed and joked with Antonio. It was a great Christmas and subsequently would be the last one that I would get to spend with her. Wonderful, wonderful memories and I am so pleased that we were all together at such a special time.

One evening in January I had just got in from work when Antonio came rushing in the door "I have something very important to tell you" he said with a face that looked so worried and his hands were shaking "My God what is it?!" I said.
I was thinking to myself: is he married and he's just about to tell me? but then came the bombshell:
"I need to go back to Brazil, my visa has ran out and I can't stay here anymore but I don't want to lose you!" he said with tears in his eyes. I was so upset and was thinking that after all these wonderful months together that we would now be forced apart. "Oh my God what are we going to do?!" I said "I don't want to lose you either!"
All night we were very sad and discussing all our options. "You know you could come with me..." he said and at that moment the dark clouds in my mind all went away and I decided there and then "Yes, that's it, I'm coming with you! If you had to go anywhere I would follow you to any country!"
I had decided that my job wasn't a problem as I wasn't happy there anymore, so that part was easy. The difficult part was going to be saying goodbye to my family: my Mum, Dad and Sister...

I told everyone at work that I would be leaving, that I was going to live in Brazil and I handed in my notice.
"You're crazy" they said, well most of them said that. "You'll never survive there! they don't even speak English! I guarantee you'll be back within three months!" I told them that I would just have to learn the language and that I can survive anywhere.

I put off telling my parents for a while as it was such a hard thing to do and I knew that they would be very upset, the weeks were going on and I decided that I just had to sit down and tell them one Sunday afternoon. I looked at my Mum and said "I don't know how to tell you this but...." and then I explained everything.
My Mum cried and so did I, but she said to me "You go... go and be happy, I can see that you are so happy now with Antonio and he is a very good man, I know he'll look after you and we can see each other next Christmas... just promise me you'll be home to spend Christmas with us!" "I promise, we'll be here" I said as we held each other tight.
My Dad was upset too but he's always been a man that doesn't show his feelings very much, however he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said these words that I will never forget: "You're a very brave young man, you're doing something that I could never have the courage to do and I'm proud of you Son!" We were all crying, in all the years I had grown up with my Dad he had never said anything so poignant to me, I knew he loved me of course but all those things were just never in his vocabulary.

The day had come for Antonio to go to Brazil... he was going there one week before me to arrange a place to stay and to talk to his family before I would arrive there in Rio a week later.
I had already left my job and my Mum and I went out every day together talking, laughing and remembering happy times, I took her out to restaurants and sometimes I would look at her smiling and laughing and would feel so sad inside that I would be leaving very soon.
She stayed with me at my apartment that whole week and we would stay up very late every night talking and watching films together, but mostly we were talking.
My Mum was always a huge inspiration in my life, she taught me everything I know and I always remember being five or six years old tugging on her legs, in the room that she had made into an office, as she was sitting down at her typewriter writing her articles for the newspaper.
I didn't see my Dad so much growing up as, being as he was a newspaper photographer, he would always be out working and would only come home long after I had gone to bed and many times he would be travelling on assignments too, so he was more like a "weekend Dad"
I had nothing but love and support from my parents my whole life, nothing I did was ever so bad that they wouldn't be there for me, through good times and bad times, and whenever I needed to talk about anything at all I knew that I had my Mum who I could go to and get advice, support and I would always feel much better after a good chat and a few cups of tea with her.
I miss that enormously, I really do. Nothing would prepare me for the fact that that would be the final week that I would ever see my Mum, the final week that we would have our days out together and get to talk about our lives, our achievements, our failures and all our ambitions.
I never knew that at the age of 56 years old my Mum would be saying goodbye to me permanently, that I would be losing this wonderful loving Mother, my best friend who had always been there for me all of my life and seen me through so many difficult phases.

The last night in my apartment with my Mum was a very emotional one. We had spent the whole week talking about everything, everything except my departure from England...
and then, on that final night, we started really speaking about it. I won't go into any details here but as you can imagine it was a very sad night and I remember so well waking up many times during the early hours of the morning to find my Mum sitting in the kitchen with the lights on drinking coffee and crying at the kitchen table, unable to sleep.
She gave me a card in a sealed envelope and said to me "Don't open that now, I don't want you to open it until you're on that plane"

The day had come for me to leave, My Mum, Dad and Sister were taking me to the airport with two large suitcases packed full of all of my most precious belongings. I gave all my CD's and other belongings to my Sister and on the day that we left my apartment I gave her the keys to my car and said "These are for you, I want you to have my car, so look after it!" She cried, I cried, we all cried and I had been going to the bathroom constantly being sick and my stomach felt terrible.

We were at the airport, my Dad was taking photographs as usual, and the time of my flight was getting nearer and nearer...
We walked towards the departure gate and my Mum started sobbing... we all clung onto each other, crying, and held each other so tight until the final call. Eventually I had to go and I said that I wouldn't look back as I walked through to the departure lounge. But I did look back and my Mum and Sister were sobbing uncontrollably as my Dad held them... that would be the very last memory I have of my Mum as I walked around the corner.

As I sat on the plane, thinking about everything and trying not to let other passengers and the cabin crew see my tears I remembered the card in the sealed envelope that my Mum had given me the night before. I took it from my hand luggage and opened it. Inside was three thousand pounds in cash and a beautiful card with the words:

My Beautiful Darling Son,
This week has been the worst week of my life, knowing that I am losing you. I've tried to hide it from you as I didn't want to spoil our last week together.
Go and live your life and always be happy, the way that I have seen you these past few months. Travel as much as you can and see the world and then when you write home and tell me all about it I will live through your eyes and see everything that you have seen.
I can't tell you how blessed I feel to have a Son as wonderful as you, as loving as you, as thoughtful and kind as you are.
Always follow your dreams, anything you want to do just do it because too much time is spent in life thinking about whether or not we should do something and worrying about what other people think, so never be afraid to be yourself.
I've put three thousand pounds in this card so that you have some money to fall back on should you need it, but if times are ever hard out there let us know and we will send you some more.
I love you, I love you, I love you! and see you next Christmas!
All my love,
Mum
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Everything I knew in my life, up until that point, I was giving up for love... my family, my friends, my job, everything, as I knew that this was the right decision and that it was the next phase in my life...

This has all been very difficult for me to write, as well as being something very personal it has also been difficult to show myself through my text.
I have friends here but they're not real friends as absolutely nobody knows anything about my private life and who I really am. My friends and family all know about me in London but nobody knows here in Brazil.
Me and Antonio lead a very private life and we aren't the kind of people to be telling everyone all about our lives and many times that can be very difficult, especially when friends and colleagues know nothing about you, only the story that you "live with your friend who you share a house and the bills with"
Brazil is a very catholic country and not so accepting when it comes to gay issues. There is still a lot of homophobia and prejudice here and it's not advanced like England is (London in particular) where you can more or less be yourself without worrying about how work colleagues or friends would react.
Antonio is in a kind of high profile job and people who he works with could never know.
We don't "fly the flag" for gay rights and we aren't militant types, we are just two men, two very normal guys who happen to love each other and who have been happily "married" for 13 years now...
So now I ask any prejudiced people out there reading this: how many heterosexual marriages do you know that have lasted at least that long? and if two people love each other, no matter what sex they are, should that be a crime?

Very soon I will be writing Part Three, all about Rio and the beginning in Brazil...
To be continued......



Sunday, 9 November 2008

"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part One


After a few posts that weren't so upbeat and full of joy I decided to post a little bit of my story here, after all I am a very positive person and very happy to be finally living the life that I always wanted.... so here goes - My Humble Story, Part One - "London Music":

I come from a family that has always worked in the British newspaper industry, my Father was, and still is, (although he's now semi-retired) a newspaper photographer, he never did anything else all his life and me and my Sister grew up constantly having our photos taken on a day to day basis and also being prepared for endless boring portraits in professional photographer's studios.
My Mother was a journalist and her speciality was the arts: theatre, cinema, music, books... however she gave it up for some years to raise me and my Sister and she worked mostly freelance from home afterwards.
Most of my Aunts and Uncles also work in the newspaper industry as features editors, journalists, printers and copy-taking readers.

So it was inevitable that I would also enter this profession.
Although just before I left school to go to university I shocked my Father with the news that I wanted to become an actor. I had studied drama all my school life and acted in various school plays and local amateur productions and , according to what my drama teacher told me, I had a promising career ahead of me in that field and I had the chance to enter a very good drama school in central London. However at that time I was young and didn't have the confidence to stand up to my Father and his views, who was telling me that acting was a profession for fools who weren't interested in making money or being properly qualified, that I would spend all of my time unemployed...
So off I went to the London School of Journalism to study my future trade and earn my degree.
Incidentally my Sister has been the only "black sheep" in the family as she is a nurse working very long hours in a London hospital, although she isn't working at the moment and I'm not sure if she will ever go back to work as she has recently given birth to a baby Daughter, my first Niece.

I started working for various newspapers as an assistant journalist until finally finding my vocation as an assistant music journalist, following in the footsteps of my Mother who also worked in that field.
It was 1990 and at that time most of my work had nothing to do with journalism... instead I was making cups of tea, answering telephones, running errands and going out to fetch sandwiches for the "real" journalists, the usual stuff when you are just beginning in the job. It sounds easy but in fact it was hard work and I enjoyed it. Then one day one of the music journalists saw a potential in me and my writing and, in also seeing my huge interest and knowledge of music, he took me under his wing and said that I could work exclusively for him.

It was an exciting time, I was overwhelmed, everything was new, I was young, baby-faced and looking at everything wide-eyed. I was taken along to launch parties for new CD albums by many talented artists, as well as many that weren't so talented as well.
I went to many shows and concerts with an all-access press pass and got to meet some wonderful artists and even sometimes got to talk to them about their life and work, which was amazing. I never had to buy a CD as I would always get them free on pre-release and promotional use only.

I spoke to Robbie Williams for almost half an hour at the launch party of one of his CD albums, I shook Elton John's hand backstage at his concert in 1994 at the Royal Albert Hall and was so in awe of him that I couldn't speak... my throat was dry and I was smiling nervously and sweating profusely as he said to me "So you are entering the world of music journalism? God help us!!" haha!
Me and my family are huge fans of his, I grew up listening to his music from the time I was in nappies and when I was 9 or 10 years old I would sing his songs into an old tape recorder which my Father still has and he has been known to play back tapes of me singing "Benny And The Jets" or "Crocodile Rock" in a high-pitched pre-pubescent voice at various times in my life, to embarrass me in front of family and friends! - I'll get my revenge one day!

So all of the 90's I was in this life of surrealism, a kind of sealed bubble, nothing seemed real and I had no social life or family life to myself - none at all! because I was working 9 to 5 on Mondays to Saturdays, I worked every holiday including Christmas Eve and sometimes New Year's Eve, and many nights during the week after work (and sometimes weekends) I had to go to the CD launch parties, concerts and after-show celebration parties which would go well into the early hours of the morning, in fact most times we would all just roll into work the next day straight from one of those parties without any sleep at all... it was exhausting, fun but exhausting and I felt I had no life to myself... it's a good thing that I love music, but I was permanently knackered.

The parties were sometimes complete madness... there would always be a constant flow of never-ending champagne, alcohol and excellent food, all free for the taking, along with a heavy amount of drug-taking secretly going on "behind the scenes"
There was a huge amount of shallowness in that world. So many people at those parties and events were only there because of being a "friend of a friend" and most of the conversation from those people was absolute drivel... sometimes I would be listening to them and thinking to myself "What the fuck am I doing here?!"
Then there were my friends, who weren't in the newspaper business, who would all be phoning me to get them a free backstage pass to some party or concert and asking me for free CD's.
Anyone who I met at a club or a party outside my work would, within minutes of knowing my profession, be clawing at me to get them into that "wonderful world" and trying to take me home with them for the night to "woo me"
Sometimes I went with them because deep down I felt lonely and I needed to feel wanted, even if it was just for one night, but afterwards I would feel very used and I felt like shit.

I didn't feel real, I felt used by everyone and I wasn't happy at all. Many people would say to me "I bet you really love your job!" and I would reply "Yeah I really do!" Sometimes I would complain about some parts of my job to people and they would look at me as if I was mad and say "But you're so lucky! many people would love to have that job!"
Then when I would be sitting on my own at home, thinking about my life and work, I would think to myself "Wake up! you're not really happy!"

But even so the years went by, the 90's were almost coming to an end, I had given up working on Saturdays so that I could have more of a normal social life. I was good at my job but the music scene had changed vastly over those years and we were entering a phase of "throwaway bubblegum pop" new artists that were so cheesy and talentless that I was becoming more and more tired of my work and meeting so many "hanger-ons" and shallow people who had no conversation other than "Ooh I'm such a huge fan of his or her's...."
There were the solid gold talented artists of course: Elton John, George Michael, Sting, Lisa Stansfield, Robbie Williams, Annie Lennox, e.t.c... whom I love, but they usually only release a CD album every 2-3 years, and in the case of George Michael even more...
As for those that regularly do concerts and world tours Elton John is the only one who really falls into that bracket.

I had started going out more at weekends, now that I wasn't working on Saturdays, and I made a point of not mentioning to people anything about the work that I did, instead I would say that I was just an office boy in a newspaper and so I started meeting some real people, people who didn't want to use me and many were very genuine indeed, I started to enjoy myself on my own terms for the first time in my life.
Then Bam!!! One night I was out with friends in a tapas bar in Notting Hill (the place where I lived in London) and I met someone Brazilian and fell head over heels in love!! I felt it so strongly that I knew it right there and then, it was as if my heart had exploded with joy and felt naturally connected at the same time... It was amazing and my life was beginning to change entirely from that very point on...
I had been saved by an angel and I was the happiest guy in the whole wide world, I was walking on air and I knew that nothing else mattered in my life, all I could think about was being in love and how ecstatically happy and elated I was.

Then Brazil started calling me....

To be Continued.............

Thursday, 6 November 2008

Rio In My Heart


When I first arrived here in Brazil one of the first things I wanted to do was to go and visit the "Cristo Redentor" (Christ The Redeemer) statue that watches over the city of Rio de Janeiro. I had seen it in documentaries and travel programmes when I was living in England but nothing prepares you for the real spectacle of this gigantic spiritual presence up-close.

The statue is located on the 2,300 feet high Corcovado mountain, it's construction took nine years to complete and it was finally erected on October 12th 1931. It is made of reinforced concrete and the outer layers are made of soapstone. It is thanks to the soapstone that the statue wasn't destroyed on February 10th 2008 when there was a violent electrical storm in the city and the statue was struck by powerful lightning... being as soapstone is an insulator it gave protection from the lightning and so Christ still stands atop the Corcovado mountain...

We took the little train that takes visitors to and from the mountain, a long slow journey that takes about 20-25 minutes, with wonderful views of a rainforest along the way, the air is fresh and very humid compared to the stifling heat of the city. I had my camera and my heart was pounding... I was so excited to be finally seeing this amazing landmark up-close and I was remembering all the documentaries I had seen while the train chugged up and up... It was a clear day, the sky was dark blue without a cloud in sight and the temperature was scorching; around 40 degrees celcius (summer time)

When we reached the top we got out of the train and proceeded to walk up the hundreds of stone steps that leads up to the statue (now however these steps have been replaced by escalators - the steps before were much more romantic and left you even more breathless when you finally set eyes on Christ! - it's a shame that they replaced them)

The statue stands 120 feet tall and weighs 700 tons and as I walked around to face the front of it my jaw dropped to the ground... this truly is an amazing spectacle and I suggest to whoever can travel to Brazil one day to visit it and see for yourself! As I looked at his serene face and his arms open wide "holding" all of Rio de Janeiro I was overcome with emotion, I felt within my heart and soul that I was experiencing a truly religious moment, and it really is... being there you feel as if you are floating on air and protected by Christ's power in some way. I felt that I needed to write and tell all my family and friends about this wonderful experience. It isn't just any old statue... it has an incredible power and you really do feel it when you are there looking into his eyes, the eyes that seem to know you, that seem to be saying "everything will be alright"

The view from there is, as you can imagine, fantastic! You can see the whole of Rio de Janeiro, the whole of the coastline which includes Flamengo, Botafogo, Leme, Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon, and also a spectacular view of the "Pão de Açúcar" (Sugarloaf mountain)

This statue that watches over the whole of Rio de Janeiro's inhabitants, me included, and keeping them safe can be seen from many roads and points in Rio and many of the local catholics "cross themselves" upon seeing it for the first time each day, giving thanks for one more day of life and beauty. Rio is a city with vast differences and many social levels, on one side you have the huge favelas (hilltop slums) full of the poor lower classes and on the other side you have neighbourhoods like Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon which house the rich upper classes and inbetween all of this you have the middle classes. There is no black and white in Rio... just lots of grey, socially speaking, and it is a huge melting-pot of different cultures mixed into one. For me it the most beautiful and exciting city that I have ever visited and the scenery is amazing: golden sandy beaches surrounded by mountains, small rainforests inside the city and deep blue sea that goes on forever. It is very rare to see a miserable person in Rio, everyone has a smile on their face no matter how difficult their lives are and you feel the energy of the wonderful people whenever you step outside your house.

When my Mum passed away in London I went back there for a month to help my Dad with everything and to try to mourn her death, however I couldn't do it there in England as most of the time I was having to keep strong for my Dad who was falling apart, and I couldn't let him see that I too was falling apart, so the only time I got to let my feelings out was when I went to bed at night and cried into my pillow for hours. It was a complete shock for me as I wasn't told of her illness as she didn't want me to know and so I was "protected" from the pain that my Father and Sister were enduring for many months. The first news I got of her illness was when I received a telegram one day from my Father telling me to phone him immediately and that I should arrange a flight home. That very night at the airport, just before my flight, I felt compelled to phone him again and he told me that Mum had just passed away ten minutes before.... I believe that it was my Mum who was sending me this "strong instinct" that I had to phone my Dad. My life changed completely there and then and everything just went very, very black and blurry for a very long time. Needless to say that the long and lonely journey home was the worst trip of my life, hours spent looking out of the window and looking across "heaven" with tears streaming down my face, I've never felt so helpless as I did then.

When I came back to Brazil I was a different person entirely, as you can imagine, and there started 3 very long and very dark years of depression, sadness and pain, mourning my dear Mum all on my own. During that time I visited the Christ statue a few times, but the first time I went there after my Mum's passing was very emotional indeed... I chose a cloudy day and very early in the morning (so that there wouldn't be many tourists there) and went up to the mountain in the little train. When I arrived there I was the only person there. I stood in front of the Christ, looking into his eyes, and thought about my Mum, spoke to her in my mind and questioned why? Before long I was standing there crying uncontrollably and I felt as if I was ten years old again. I went over to the balcony, looked out onto the vast view of the coastline and sky and said Goodbye to my Mum.

I have been back to the Christ statue many times over the years, mostly when my family and friends have visited me and we have done all the usual tourist spots, and every single time I feel that emotion in my heart and the presence of his power up on that mountain. Whenever I'm there I don't speak... I'm not sure why, maybe it's a kind of respect for what I am witnessing or maybe it's because my mind is always full of wonderful memories that come flooding back to me at that point and everything else just gets blocked out.

I've come a long way over the years, I'm very happy and I have a wonderful life here, however it's been an uneven journey and not without many struggles and pain, but throughout it all Rio de Janeiro and it's positive energy has been the one constant that has remained with me and kept me sane.

I walk along the beach, sun shining down onto my skin, the sea breeze attaching itself to my lips as I taste it's salt. I see a friend so I say hello and shake his hand and as I continue on my morning stroll I look up towards the blue sky, up higher to the mountain and see his face looking down at me with his arms open wide. I feel safe, Christ is in town.


This post has just won the Post Of The Day Award from celebrated professional author David McMahon at "authorblog" - 10th November 2008.
Thank You so much David! I feel extremely honoured indeed!!

________________________________________________________

For anyone who is interested here is the poem that I wrote for my Mother, entitled "Mum" as a tribute when she passed away:

http://thebritsvirtualhouse.blogspot.com/2008/03/mum-original-poetry-by-me.html

Monday, 3 November 2008

"Stop The World" - Original Poetry By Me

Stop the world,
I just want to get off,
Famine is rife,
And the fumes make me cough.

Wars that are endless,
Streets of innocent blood,
Give them some peace,
Lying dead in the mud.

But what of the goodness?
I have faith it's still there,
My Grandma once said,
God is everywhere.

So where is he now?
Has he gone to the moon?
Hoping all here,
Will be over so soon?

Man opens his eyes,
With love in his heart,
He's wishing the world,
Would just press restart.

© 11/2008

Saturday, 1 November 2008

"Sowing The Seeds" - Original Poetry By Me

Pay it forward many say,
Some choose to pay it back...
The choice we make determines,
What we really, truly lack.

Some choose to walk a life alone,
Others live amongst a crowd,
Just be yourself and smile,
But make that smile so loud!

Because life is just a whimper,
A passing of a phase,
So don't wake up and wonder,
What happened to all the days?

Wake up and sow the seeds of love,
And slowly watch them grow,
Plant them always from the heart,
And you'll reap just what you sow.

© 11/2008