My Poem “Answers for Everything”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Getting back into
the swing of anything
is always hard, it’s always slow,
it’s always a work in progress,
especially in the beginning…
move to a new place,
filled with new people
who you do not yet know,
is always daunting…
getting used to a new way of doing things –
even when it involves a job
or an activity that you already know –
it can take you a while to get up to speed…
any time spent away from something
is time that you can’t make up for –
however, what you can choose to do
is to put your attention, your drive,
and your determination into learning
and perhaps re-learning something
that over time becomes second-nature,
releasing that intuitive gift
that has always been inside of you,
that has always been a part of you,
and letting your internal nature
and your internal voice speak…
I truly believe that some people
are meant to be who they are…
I truly believe that some people
are born with a particular destiny
and a path in life to follow
with particular things
that they are fated to achieve…
I truly believe that some people
are meant to be doctors, nurses, carers,
parents, artists, writers, fighters,
scientists, cafe owners, builders,
sculptures, truck drivers, cashiers,
messengers, movie theatre attendants –
because by doing what they do,
and while doing what they do,
they make a profound and fundamental
difference to the world that only they can…
I have always believed, ever since I was a child,
that I had a purpose, a meaning, a reason to be alive,
and to be someone and something
more than somebody with the depth to them
than that of a character from a dream…
I have always known, and I have always kept in my mind,
the fact of life that nobody in this world
is ever truly alone and that everybody
has a calling that fits perfectly into and with
whatever makes the universe what it is
and whatever the fundamental forces are
that govern the framework and the plan of existence
that was set into motion at the instant
of the universal big bang
and the answers to everything.

Advertisements

“Sunrise” by Seen feat. Mark Hastings – Out Now

Mark Hastings me, music, Poetry , , , , , , , , , , ,

“Summer Melodies Vol.2” – featuring Seen and my song “Sunrise” is Out Now and available to stream and download on Spotify! Listen to our new song and the entire uplifting and progressive sounding album by following the link below:

-Mark

My Poem “Revolving Door”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , ,

Places change over time…
people come and people go…
most places that we visit
have virtual, and sometimes literal,
revolving doors through which
people enter and exit
every second of every day…
life itself is constantly
receiving and sending souls
to and from Earth…
our brain, our mind, our imagination,
our dreams have a constantly in use
gateway that connects them to our senses…
screens, books, one to one interactions
is how we send and receive messages
in this modern world…
pictures, graphics, and even methods
of communication that still involve words
daily communicate with and bind
everybody in a web from which
we sometimes find it hard to escape from
because it surrounds us in every direction…
our collective preoccupations
are constantly in a state of change…
our methods of exploration and discovery
become more advanced and revolutionary
every time a new idea spawns
a new wave of creativity
from a genius, an artist, a philanthropist
capable of thinking out of the box
and beyond the limits of understanding…
every day we as a species expand beyond
what we know, what we knew, and we uncover
the cloak of the unknown to reveal
a world of possibilities that has been there
in plain view the entire time
that we have been in our place
in the cosmos of stars, planets,
and phenomena that people are
constantly looking to and for
so that they can explore
what lies on the other side
and what there is to find when you choose
to venture through a revolving door.

My Poem “Dreaming in Colour”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dreams are amazing…
dreams can be magical…
dreams are entrancing…
dreams can be wonderful –
but the thing about dreams
is that they are self-contained
worlds within a person’s mind…
dream can sometimes drive
what we think and what we do
while we are awake –
but dreams are just imaginary,
unless you use what you have dreamed about
and you make it real, you make it physical,
you make it something you can hear,
see, taste, touch, feel,
and give it a life beyond
the dream world of finite time…
some dreams can feel more real than reality
when you are at the centre of them…
some dreams seem so real sometimes
because we wish what we
experience within them was genuine…
some dreams come into being
because while we have been awake
we have been dwelling upon something
that we cannot immediately
come up with an answer to…
some dreams are like rainbows,
and while we are dreaming
we all regularly change the colour
and the tone of what we are dreaming about:
most of the time we dream and we go to places
within our mind that we do not choose…
our minds are magical in their own right…
our imagination is a playground
where anything is possible…
our knowledge and our experiences
are what fuel the fires, build the worlds,
keep the lights on, and inform
the personality traits of the characters
who we populate our dreams with…
our dreams are based upon
a certain personal perspective of reality
that we all keep secret from the rest of the world…
dreams keep us going…
our desires drive us to do what we do…
you have to venture down paths
and sometimes explore the twists and the turns
of the mazes that we find ourselves within
in order to find what keeps out heart beating,
what makes us who and what we are,
and what keeps us alive, living,
seeing, and dreaming in colour.

My Poem “Ghost Towns”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , ,

So many abandoned buildings…
so many empty shells…
so many places open
and exposed to the elements…
so many ghost towns
that once used to thrive
but have long since died…
so many towns and communities
that are still remembered
and thought of fondly by name
that are in desperate need
of being revived…
so many businesses, so many people,
so many livelihoods that have
had to close their doors and move on…
so many once proud industries
that have slowly but surely
become outdated and lost…
so many, too many, churches still standing
where congregations no longer pray…
so many, too many, schools and playground
where children are no longer taught
and no longer play…
so many, too many, houses
that were once homes to families
can be found with their doors open wide
that are no longer sanctuaries
where anybody chooses to live…
there are so many, too many, places
that have lost their identities
which could once again be
revitalised and exorcised
of the bad spirits that still
walk the streets and echo
throughout the empty spaces
that you can find
devoid of any human life
all around the world,
that are now nothing more than ghost towns.

My Poem “Love Is Like Dynamite”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Love is like dynamite…
love is a sometimes indefinable
feeling, energy, purpose,
connection, sensation, perfection,
that everybody knows and instantly recognizes
when they experience it coming over them…
love is like nothing else…
love is like a flash of light
that guides your way, day after day,
and keeps you wide awake at night…
love is true magic…
love is the true meaning behind the universe…
love can never be foretold, nor predicted…
love is a blessing and should
never be considered a curse…
love can make people do many things…
love only gets stronger as you commit further
and you dive deeper into the ocean of feelings
that you can’t deny that you feel for another…
love needs to be expressed…
love is a question, an answer, a test,
a way for someone to show themselves at their best…
love is a gift… love is infinite…
love transcends sex, colour, cities, countries,
distance, language, and worlds…
love is more than a word,
love is more than a feeling –
love, in its purest form,
is about finding bliss, joy, heaven on Earth,
when you aren’t looking for it,
and realizing the fundamental truth of the universe:
that nobody is ever truly alone,
and there is somebody out there in the world
for everybody to share an unbreakable bond with
who gives everything that someone has always wanted.

My Poem “Roses”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , ,

Roses are like people,
they come in many different colours…
Roses are delicate…
Roses are strong…
Roses are some peoples’ favourite flower…
some people believe that roses
symbolize perfection
and that the perfume that they breathe out
is what you would breathe in
if you were to take a walk
through a garden in heaven.

To some people roses are
the flower of love…
to some people roses are
what you give to the one you love
on Valentine’s day, on an anniversary,
or at any time of the year
when you want to give someone a gift
that comes from the heart.

Roses symbolize beauty…
Roses embody life…
Roses can mean many things
to many people…
Roses, like people, should never
be underestimated –
and the closer that you get to a rose
the more that you should be aware
of their petals, their strong stems,
and also the thorns that they wear
for protection.

Roses are given, roses are received…
Roses bloom for a short time
and then they return to place
from where once came…
Roses will always mean something
profound to those who know
and understand the meaning of life,
of love, and the perfect dream of who
and what we will someday find
waiting for us all in the multicolored
vistas of heaven above
where roses can be found
lining every street.

My Poem “Everybody is a Poet”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The truth –
no matter what anybody tells you –
is that everyone is an artist,
everyone is a Poet,
everyone can do something unique,
everyone has a talent,
everyone has something that they are meant to do,
everyone has the spirit, the soul, the mind
than when honed is capable of doing anything,
expressing anything, experiencing everything
that makes life on this planet worth living…
If you can make someone smile,
if you can make someone laugh,
if you can make someone think,
if you can make someone feel something,
then I am happy to tell you
that you are an artist, you are a poet,
you are a member of a world wide
society of people who embody life
from every extreme on the scale
of reality in which we are capable of
inhaling and exhaling…
Money can’t buy you many things –
and one of the things that it can’t buy
is yourself: your life, your memories,
your experiences, your perspective,
your joy, your happiness, your hopes,
your fears, your nightmares, your concerns,
because all of those things are unique to you alone
but they can be shared and sympathized with others
because there are always others who have similar,
universal, human, psychological, physical,
and verbal insights into the kaleidoscope
of thoughts, dreams, and emotions
that drive the engine of nature
that surrounds all of us…
There are things in this life, in the universe,
that nobody can see –
when astronomers look up and back in time
to the beginning of the universe
they find an impenetrable wall of light and energy:
the innermost shockwave from the explosion
that created everything that we see,
from the moment of the Big Bang, frozen in time –
which surrounds the answers to some of the most
important questions ever asked: Why are we here?
What is the meaning of life? Is there a God?
Everybody asks questions – that is what we do,
and that is what humanity has always done…
Everybody has a story to tell
and everybody is a storyteller
and a character in their own right…
Everybody goes on a journey during their life
to find themselves and what they believe
should be their purpose while they are alive
on Earth and a member of this world…
Everybody creates a little piece of art every day,
but sometimes it can take a while to interpret
what someone is trying to say –
however, in their own way,
even if they do not realise it,
and even if they are not actually using words
to communicate their feelings and motivations,
a person’s actions can speak volumes,
and in my opinion every action that someone
makes should be classed as poetic…
I have met a lot of people throughout my life,
and I have heard, seen, and I have read stories
about people from vastly different walks of life –
and the conclusion that I have come to
is that everybody, in their own way,
is an artist, and everybody is a Poet.