Month: May 2015

My Poem ‘The Good Fairy’

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

Some people look so gorgeous,
you would think that they were
the living embodiment of a flower;
some people are so beautiful,
you may frequently mistake them
for a real-life angel;
some people bring joy and happiness
in someone else’s life
with a simple shining smile;
some people are like princesses
that you can see but can’t reach –
because they are somewhere
that you have to make a climb to get to them,
as if they were living their life
at the top of a tower;
some people are just simply and incredibly
phenomenal and magical;
some people, one person
can be the difference
and can be the true awe-inspiring example
of a light in the dark
so bright that they burn more intensely
and hotter than a phoenix’s tail.

I have always believed
that reality is more profound
and fantastic than fantasy;
I have always known the true meaning of a bond,
and how deep and how far
feelings and emotions can take us;
I have always believed
that I was being drawn because of destiny;
I have always known things in my heart
that I haven’t always been able
to find the words to say –
however, I have always believed
and I have always been shown
that when the time is right
everybody finds a way to make known
what their heart yearns to express.

Some people are an inspiration
every day in more ways than one;
one person will always be to you
your life-long shining star and burning sun;
some people are special for just being themselves,
and it is because they are so honest
and pure of heart that people love them
and are inspired by them
to write poems of poetry;
one person to each of us
is our true life companion, inspiration,
and our own personal guardian angel
and eternal good fairy.

My Poem ‘Onomatopoeia’

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

How does a ‘thing’
become a ‘something’?
When does a piece of art
come to life?
How does a person
become a someone?
When do words of a song
naturally find their own voice, and sing?
Could, and should, a child have a name
before its face first feels
the warmth of the sunlight?
Is a word and a name given to something
and someone accidental?
Or, perhaps, is a name
part of a more interconnected and greater plan?

A word can have many meanings
in different languages;
a name can symbolize and capture
the character and the disposition of someone
miraculously, and each person with the same name
can share things in common;
a word can have many different faces;
a name can be very important
and influential in the life of someone.

Some names are past down through families
and through traditions,
and they are in themselves ‘calling cards’
and snap-shots that tell a long story;
place names carry the history
and the original intent of the place in question
long after that same place has become
a place of so much more;
surnames and family names have evolved
from the profession and the job
that someone was known for,
to a connection of lineage and bloodline,
and is now a means for people
to trace their families’ origins
and reveal traces of hidden memory;
just as everything has a reason for being,
so does the choice of a name
have a reason and a meaning
running throughout a thing
or a person’s life
that was there before someone was even born.

Names have always fascinated me;
the why of a word and where it comes from
has always taken me on an exciting
and an inspiring journey;
the power of a word
and the significance of a name
is something that you can see,
use, and understand
if you use words in your life,
and if you see particular words
as a form of magic:
and there is no one who knows
how to use words in the way
that they are intended to be used
more than a magician –
and a magician will tell you
that the power of incantation and suggestion
has a fascination to it
that is too hypnotic to explain.
If I could be anyone,
if I could create a role for myself,
I would be someone who has the gift,
the privilege, and the power
to be able to give a person, or a thing,
its identity based on who, or what,
I see before me when I look at them –
it would be unlike anything else
to be the ‘coiner of a name’.

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Coming soon…

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

TDATD-SQUARE

Coming soon… my new book, ‘The Dreamer and The Dream‘! 🙂

My Poem ‘Short but Sweet’

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

All moments are precious;
first thing in the morning
every second rushes by like a train;
no matter what it is,
everybody remembers their first;
in the fresh and bright new morning light
the energy in the air is amazing
and addictive and always goes
straight to your head.

I like to start every day
by listening to a song or two;
some people like to wake up
and immediately connect
and engage with the world
that never sleeps and is always up and ready;
I like to begin my day with a poem of my own,
writing for a small few;
some people like to go for an early morning run,
a walk, a coffee from their favourite coffee shop,
to make sure that their day begins with a tone
that makes them extremely happy.

Morning time can feel like you are a skier
on a snowy slope heading down a mountain
faster than you can think or perceive clearly;
in the middle of the day,
some people have time to take a break
and enjoy a brief siesta of mind and body;
in the afternoon, time seems to move much slower
and can at times feels as if
the hands of the clock are standing still;
in the evening, at the twilight of the day,
is when you truly have the time
to make things happen –
and if you are not doing anything in particular,
before the end of the night and the day,
you soon will.

One day is always different from the previous,
and the day that will follow will also be
its own day with things occurring in it
that will always be synonymous with that day’s date;
every opportunity that presents itself
is almost over as soon as it begins;
there is never any limit to how much happiness
you can generate;
no two experiences has a true identical twin.

Life can seem long when you are living it,
but short and brief when recalled and remembered,
and what is said can sometimes have a half-life
comparable to that of a birds tweet;
life is meant to be made the most of…
so dive below, and reach high and above!
You can do so much in such a short space of time –
so don’t forget to cherish
every unforgettable moment,
especially those that are short and sweet.

My Poem ‘Click’

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

You know that moment
when you have got so much to say,
but you don’t know how to say it;
you know that time
when it feels like your mind and your body
feel like they are stuck in cement;
you know that instant
when your mind goes blank
and you just forget something you knew
only a day or so ago,
but now it has seemingly disappeared into the ether;
you know that sensation of déjà vu
that comes over you
that completely convinces you
that you are reliving something over;
you know that story that you hear about
that you read that accurately
which completely describes you and your life,
as if you were the one who wrote it for you to read;
you know how magical it is to see something grow
into something big and amazing
that once started out as a small and simple seed.

Some “thank yous” don’t follow
immediately after a favourable deed has taken place –
it can take some time, and a flash of realisation,
to understand what a moment truly means and what it meant;
some people are truly unforgettable
and you constantly see echoes of their face;
some people mean more than other people,
and that is why they can come to mean to you
as if they were more like family than friends.

What makes something “great”,
what makes something “the best”,
what makes something “special”,
what makes something stand out,
is indefinable –
however it is individualistically natural;
when something goes and “feels right”
it feels like nothing else of Earth
and like you have been blessed.

It feels great when you find your rhythm;
it feels fantastic when you find your number one;
it feels awe-inspiring to come face to face
with a real-life legend that has an air
and a mystery to them like a myth;
it feels like a true miracle
when everything goes as it supposed to
and you see, hear, and feel
that undeniable ‘click’.

My Poem ‘Fallen Friend’

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

A fallen friend, a fallen star,
a friendship that will never end,
a familiar face to be remembered
always as if they were still by your side
as well as always in your heart.

We meet so many people in our lives,
but the special ones we remember forever;
we make so many friends,
but there are only a small group
to whom our fate and their fate
will always be tied together.

It’s hard to say goodbye to a friend –
especially when their spirit
can still be felt, heard,
and seen where we always remember them being;
it means everything to never forget someone,
and it is comforting to always believe
that one day you will see them again;
it’s hard to put into words
what someone truly means to us
and what about them we always found amazing;
it always hurts to think that a friend of yours
had to endure a time in their life
that caused them such pain.

To recall a shared memory,
to say a silent prayer,
to light a candle,
to say goodbye,
to never forget,
to believe that they who we have lost
we be looking over us
as long we continue to remember them.
Earth angels and heroes never die,
nor do great fighters who keep fighting
until the bitter end…
so, to all the dearly departed,
this poem is for you,
this poem is for all of our
indomitable and special
never to be forgotten
fallen friends.

My Poem ‘A Study in Starlight’

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

Everybody knows what it is like
to stay up all night;
everybody knows that experience
of looking out of the window
and watching the stars in the sky
arch through the dark
and mesmerize with their light;
everybody knows what it is like
to stay wide awake
with something, or perhaps someone,
on their mind;
everybody knows that you cannot tell
what will come from what you see around you
and from what you may find inside you
when it is just you
and your future in front of you,
and when what you choose to do next
may be the most defining moment
of your entire life.

Countless writers, artists,
deep-thinkers, and students
who every day attend the university of life,
and its many campuses,
have been driven by the need
to stay in the groove that they feel comfortable in
and create and generate a work by their own hand;
a lorry driver knows what it is like
to drive all through the night
getting to where they need to get to;
a true detective knows what it is like
to have a tantalizing mystery
and a question in front of them
that they believe if anyone can solve it they can;
everyone alive who has ever been told “no”
knows that the harder you work at something,
and the more you believe in yourself,
you can inspire all kinds of energy
and strength to rise from out of the blue.

There is an infinite story being written
in the sky above and all throughout life;
there are infinite characters
with a distinctive voice
making themselves be heard –
even those who communicate with the language of silence;
even someone who is skeptical of the supernatural
knows that there are many forms of astonishing miracles
that some people witness every day
that in themselves are “magic”;
there is no greater push to do something,
or think in a certain way,
than the motivation of fright;
everyone has, at some point in their life,
had an instinct of a not-so-secret sixth sense;
when something looks, reads, or sounds
like it is missing that indefinable “something” –
that is because sometimes some things
need a fresh breath, shot, and spark,
to be infused into them before they are done,
to make something that is great truly epic.

Life is a constant study of seeing,
learning, and understanding,
that doesn’t end until it ends;
in my own personal philosophy,
if you feel like there is more to see or more to do
you are always correct and absolutely right;
if you have the choice to be yourself,
why for a second would you choose to pretend;
the clues and the curiosities
that many people find as they live their lives,
to those of us who embrace a question
as if it were a bona fide religion,
are what keep us up all night
looking through a window
studying the starlight.

My Poem ‘Neo’

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

A new day;
a bright blue new sky;
a new breath of fresh air;
a new moment to take in
the exquisiteness of a familiar place;
a bright light;
a time to let the world slow down,
as if you don’t have a care,
and be re-energized
and feel phenomenal
at all the emotions that you go through
when you feel a gust of wind
blow through your hair.

Life is constantly rejuvenating itself;
people are always looking to better themselves;
life is growing; people are becoming;
life is mystifying; people are fascinating.

New music, new art,
new motivations, new starts,
new meals, new deals,
new mirrors, new reflections;
new journeys, new travels,
new energy, new directions;
new expectations, new idols,
new ideas, new styles,
new happy tears.

New life is abundant on Earth every minute,
just as it is every second in the big wide universe;
there is more happening,
and more parts moving into place,
than anyone could ever comprehend;
the unspoken truth is that
for all the grains of sand on a beach,
and all the stars of the night sky,
we know nothing about how everything truly works –
even a theory that could combine
biology, physics, chemistry, and spirituality
could only ever scratch the surface
of the great meaning of the life, the death,
and the rebirth that is happening:
stars and life are being born,
dying, and coming back to life
in new, wonderful and spectacular forms –
some of which are beyond imagining.

New inspiration, new enthusiasm,
new sights, new vision;
the world made anew because of you,
because of life’s constant state
of reconfiguration, disposition,
and re-fusion.
Somethings will new change,
and some things always do;
some people age before their time,
and some people cannot believe
how fast the days and the years
of their life have flew.

Every new day is a new page;
as the world turns,
life and people from any point of view
can see and be given insights of the universe
that will never be old –
because the universe is constantly
remaking itself every second…
just like new.

My Poem ‘Countryside’

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

As I dream about a city across the sea,
there is someone over the ocean
wishing that they were walking
the fields of the English countryside;
as I sit and hear the sounds
and the accents that I remember so well,
there is someone in the very country
where I wish I was now
thinking about what it would be like
to be where I am, doing what I am doing,
completely untroubled and free.

As I write I think about that friend of mine
telling me about their wish,
and I wish that they and I could trade places,
even if it were only for a few minutes,
and even if it was only a momentary
swapping of minds and lives,
so that we two could for moments
walk in each others shoes
and know the taste and the smell of each others air…
if they were here and if I were there.

If my friend were here at this moment
they would cry at the beauty of the sight of my home;
if my friend could see with my eyes,
their entire vision would be met by
all the colours of the rainbow
represented by the colours of the surrounding
and blooming flowers;
if my friend were able to take in the perfection
that I have known my entire life
which never gets old,
they would never be able to describe verbally
what their eyes cannot look away from –
even if they were describing the landscape
to someone on the phone;
if my friend could follow in my footsteps,
they could and they would never stop exploring
and seeing something new and beautiful
everywhere they looked,
even if they kept walking for 24-hours.

Even when it rains,
and the leaves of the trees are speckled
with droplets of cleansing water from above,
the green that is England through and through
only becomes even more striking,
and when the clouds part
and the sunlight comes blazing through
there is no view anywhere
that is more amazing, nor breathtaking,
than the sudden explosion of colour
that is nature accentuated by the golden rays
of the most important star in the sky
that always makes my home
look like a real life landscape of art
that could never be fully explained,
because it is what it is:
a true, heart-breaking, paradise,
that is so beautiful
it will never stop bringing tears to my eyes.

There are people who I have not yet met face to face,
but who I want to meet;
there are places where I have been
that I want to return to some day,
where when I left them I cried;
there are friends of mine in other countries
who I can’t wait to fully introduce myself to
in the flesh when we first meet and greet;
there are places that I see every day
that the sight of makes me smile,
that if I could I would share with the entire world –
where I have done my fair share of walking,
thinking, contemplating and imagining,
in the most heavenly place on Earth
that is the great, glorious, gorgeous
and beautiful English countryside.

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Me

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , ,

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Check out my books ‘Poet of the Sphere’, ‘The Sound of Mark’, ‘The Eternal Boy’, from Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk right now! Click on my picture to check out my Amazon authors page! 😊📖📝