Month: June 2015

My Poem ‘The Reveler’

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

Instantly feeling the life of a party
get inside you, as the music
moves your body to the beat;
living and breathing the life
and the times of a festival,
unable to stop yourself
from moving your feet;
being at a show
and hearing band after band play epically;
losing yourself, finding yourself;
being yourself, embracing your inner-self;
feeling happy, feeling free;
the collective spirit,
emotion, ambiance, and unbridled
and unbounded liberation
is exciting beyond words;
the wondrous magic
is like breathing the air of a brand new world;
the uplifting and enlivening anti-gravity
has you feeling like you are flying like a bird;
the amazing energy penetrates
deep inside you like a sword;
the echoes of waves of sound
emanate and overcome you;
even if the rain was falling
and the sky were a blanket of clouds,
the sun would be shining
and the colour above would be bright blue.

Music is its own language;
music is its own eternal and everlasting age;
music is a force of the universe;
music is what came first;
music is living, breathing, evolving, changing,
and can mean different things
depending on the time that you are listening;
music is meant to be enjoyed and reveled in.

The stage is like a heaven of stars;
the stars of the stage are like angels and messengers;
the songs played are like magic spells of amazing power;
that which raises the heart-rate
and brings stars to everyone’s eyes
is like being in the passenger seat of a speeding car.

If you are wild at heart
and the call of the unseen and the unknown
grips you hard every time you hear it,
then you are a born traveler;
if you can see things
and feel the presence of something divine,
then you are a true believer;
if you feel that every day is a prize
and a gift, then you are always a winner;
if you know what it means to be a part
of something bigger and greater,
that connects you to all levels of nature,
then you are closer than ever to heaven of Earth,
because you are a timeless reveler.

My Poem ‘From the top’

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

My time, my days,
often see me surrounded by people
on an infinite, overwhelming,
incalculable, unfathomable scale;
there are days when the thought
of how many billions of people
there are in the world
literally boggles my mind;
the obsessive observer in me
wants to see everything,
and wants to meet everyone,
and sit down with them,
so that they can tell me their tale;
the dominant writer in me
wants to discover and convey
the meaning of the entire universe
and the meaning of life
and wrap it all up in a story,
or a poem, and leave a message
to live and to love life by
for all of mankind.

I cannot help but look out and see more;
I cannot help but listen and hear
a symphonic opus;
I cannot help by feel drawn
in multiple directions,
while still keeping my feet
firmly on the ground –
like a rocket of potential
waiting to launch;
I cannot tell you how much love means to me,
and to me the meaning and the feeling of love
is the most important thing in and of my heart
that I wholly trust.

Most things occur and are where they are
according to a plan;
everyone is defined by their own unique chemistry
that, to some degree, dictate the things in life
they can’t have and the things that,
if they want to, they can have;
knowing what to do and when
is one of the key indefinable instincts
in attaining your dreams;
some things, no matter how simple
they are on the outside,
are not what they seem.

Trillions of stars,
billions of planets,
millions of galaxies,
thousands of possibilities,
hundreds of variations,
tens of directions –
but only one of each of us;
each of us bound,
each of us free,
each of us still connected
genetically to ancestors
and to distant family members
who once spent a great deal of time
thinking, adapting, understanding,
and swinging from the branches of trees.

The farther back in time we go
into the history of Earth,
and the more we read of humanities
relationship with the planet
we are blessed to live on,
we can tell and we can see
the direct effect that we as a species
have had on our environment,
on life, on ourselves,
and the most fundamental fingerprint
of humanity is the ability
to deliver change globally –
both quickly, and slowly,
quietly, and sometimes boldly –
and because change is in our nature,
we sometimes do not know when
or how to stop.

One thing that I have learned about life
is that nothing is predetermined in stone –
but a prosperous and a hopeful future for all
can happen if people work together,
and if hope can be promised, assured,
and delivered every time it is spoken,
or shown by those who in the pyramid of the world
lead from the front as well as from the top.

My Poem ‘Live for the moment’

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

Living for the moment,
living in the moment;
doing something different,
going somewhere different;
soaking up the rays of the sun,
going out and having all kinds of fun;
having so many ideas in your head
you do not know where to start,
thinking about so many things to do –
the thought of the potential possibilities
feel almost too much for both your head and your heart;
taking the initiative and acting on instinct;
making a plan to dive low and rise high,
like the bubbles of a fizzy drink.

Where once things felt harder,
because they felt so far away –
today, everything is accessible with a touch;
where once people used to think
that there was a literal edge and end to the Earth,
humanity has learned that no matter where
and in what direction you travel
there is always more to see and further to go –
because the world is constantly
and instantaneously redefining the meaning of living,
and when it comes to Life
that could not and will not ever be enough.

One of the greatest things you can do
is to plant a seed, and with your care and attention
watch it grow before your eyes;
one of the best experiences of your life
is when you are doing something with someone
and everything feels effortless, timeless, momentous,
and truth transcends words;
one of the moments that stays with you
is the feeling of intense and deep happiness
without the need to try;
one of the things that reminds you
that you are a part of something
larger and greater than you might have realized,
is something that you see and feel everyday –
but which you may take for granted,
and that is Life itself:
the air we breathe,
the language and the detail
in the landscape that surrounds us,
and in the burning core and in the heart
at the centre of our beautiful and glorious world.

There are oceans of energy,
as well as oceans of water;
there are reasons for things to be as they are,
beyond how they appear;
there are silent languages of signs
that say infinitely more than the response
of a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ answer;
there are people who are more in-tune
with the needs, the voice,
and the poetry of our sphere;
there is a constant concert performing
that is free to attend, and anyone can revel at it
and participate in it with the gift
of their birth-born instrument;
there is a time to embrace and to seize life,
and that time is always right now…
so take this instant, and run with it!
And whatever you do next, promise yourself
to make the most of every second…
and live for the moment!

My Poem ‘The First Impression’

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

The first impression
is always the most important;
the way that you present yourself
speaks volumes about how important
something is to you;
the first word that you speak
echoes and forever stands out;
the old saying that you can tell a lot
about someone just by watching
and noticing how someone walks in their shoes,
and what someone’s choice of footwear
can tell you about someone,
is absolutely true;
the first of anything
sets the standard for everything to follow;
the first expression can have as much impact
as a burst of light from the sun;
the first message is often forgotten –
however, if and when reread,
that same first chain of words,
at the end of everything,
always resurfaces and means the most;
the first signs, the first icons,
can imprint more meaning, more feeling,
and they can be a source of constant hope,
like the always recognizable symbol of love.

Meeting someone you love,
meeting someone you care for and adore,
meeting someone you have never met before for the first time,
meeting and greeting someone at your front door,
is one of the best things that will ever happen to you –
especially, because the more instant
and unexpected that first meeting is
it can speed up your thoughts
and your heart-rate so fast that
that first view can change you.

Love at first sight is true,
it exists, and it is not simply a myth
invented by romantics;
the first exposure to anything,
especially at a young age,
will inform a great many
of your important life-decisions;
the first reaction that you have to something
can sometimes be deceptive –
but the look that someone gives you with their eyes
can be as rhythmic as a song-lyric;
and just as everybody follows one kind
and one type of a fashion,
so too does everything grow
from that very important first impression.

My poem ‘The Dreamer and The Dream’

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

Everyone is a dreamer,
everyone has a dream…
everybody is a creator,
everybody can be
whomever they want to be.
Stay hopeful! Be optimistic!
Be incredible!
Believe in miracles,
and witness life’s magic!

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Check out the ebook version of my new book ‘The Dreamer and The Dream‘ on Amazon right now! 😊

My Poem ‘One of a kind father’

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

The real and true super-man of my childhood;
the one man while growing up
who could make anything and everything happen;
the hero of great strength,
whose greatest super-power makes us who we are,
because they are a part of us,
just as we are a part of them,
and because their life-force
is literally in our blood;
the man who we look to
and imprint on from day one;
our Dad, our father,
our sun who shines down and smiles upon us
when we are feeling sad;
our life-giving, caring, amazing, creator
who for us there could be no other.

Birthdays, holidays, unmissable moments
that would not be the same
without that one special person;
first words, first voices, first steps
that may never have been
without the man who watched over us,
and who called to us,
and who encouraged us to never stop;
mornings, nights, early rises, bedtimes
that always would have been missing
something and someone important
if we had not have had them;
the constant giant
who we all looked to
as our all-powerful god.

My Dad loves his family,
and my family love my Dad;
if it were not for my Dad
I would not be the man that I am,
nor would I have had the extraordinary,
happy, love-filled life
that I have been blessed to have had;
my father and my mother
were always fated to meet each other
and to be together,
and while there is blood in my veins,
and air in my lungs,
I will always feel the spirit, the love,
and I will always speak the name
of the best man in my life,
who will be with me everyday…
and that man is my incredible, wonderful,
amazing, one of a kind, father.

My Poem ‘Dreamcatcher’

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

Have you ever awoken in a dream one night,
only later to discover that the dream
that you had awoken from
was really a dream that you were dreaming
in a dream that you were having?
And really you have been asleep the entire time?
And at the moment that you wake up,
the day has already begun,
and you have no idea of what happened,
nor where you have been –
but you feel like you have emerged
and taken a deep breath
after coming to the surface of a vast ocean?

Some of our memories
can be like sandcastles on a beach;
some of our defining thoughts
can be like landmarks;
some of our experiences
can be like mountains that we climb,
and return from, that cannot be attained
nor ever topped again,
and for the rest of our lives
they may feel out of reach;
some of our happiest and joyous moments
can be like a shield and a defense
than can silently protect us from harm.

Dreams can be shared;
dreams can be a legacy;
dreams can be lived in the real world,
as well as while lying in bed;
dreams have a meaning and a language to them
and within them that not that many people
through history have ever been able to interpret
and understand fully –
because no matter how much a dream
can seem to make sense
during and after you are dreaming,
and have dreamed it,
that same dream, and every dream,
continues to live, play out,
and inform your world subtly and incredibly.

When we dream we see with different eyes;
when we do something or go somewhere
in a dream it can be both an echo, and also a prelude;
when we feel something in a dream
we are trying to tell ourselves
that our heart and our feelings
are more sensitive than we may sometimes realize;
when the cover of slumber pulls us under
and we fall under the spell of our own imagination,
we have no control of where we will go,
or what, or whom, will come to us –
and that is why sometimes our dreams
can feel like we have been dreaming for days and nights,
and some dreams can feel like
they should have gone on longer
because they were over too soon.

Our dream-selves can sometimes seem
to be having all the fun that we wish
when we are awake we could have;
our dreams keep imagining every kind of possibility –
which is why they matter;
our dream identities can be triggered
at any time of the day,
even when we are taking a long hot bath;
our dreams can be so amazing
and so fantastic, sometimes,
that they simply need to endure
and never be forgotten –
and that is why, over the centuries,
people have sought to preserve
and keep alive the dreams
that are meant to create ripple-effects
in the underlying life-connecting
consciousness of the world:
by turning them into tales, legends, stories,
and retelling them over and over again –
and the best way of allowing a dream to never die
is to seek out a kindred spirit
and to harness the amazing power of a dreamcatcher.

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My Poem ‘Imagine like Lennon’

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

Dreamers never stop dreaming,
dreamers take great comfort
and they feel great joy
in the knowledge
that they are not the only ones;
imagineers never stop imagining,
and because their thoughts,
dreams, and hopes never stop coming
and flowing, miraculous new discoveries
and ideas come to light
and are allowed to shine
all over the world on the eyes
and from the hearts of countless people,
as if they were new born stars and suns.

An artist in an artist from birth;
a storyteller is a reader of other stories
by other writers, who has always felt
compelled to create stories of their own
and take people on a journey;
many artists have sought inspiration from above,
like the first drop of rain
that began all the oceans of Earth;
to be who you are meant to be in all walks of life,
and in all stages of creativity and evolution,
everybody must be able to just be.

There is a moment, there is a spark,
there is a light, that brightens the dark,
there is an instant of change,
there is a time to step back
and rethink and reinvent,
there is sometimes one perfect expression
that is beyond any and all words
that could ever fill a single page;
there must be a world within you
where you can go to that is even more
limitless and boundless than the universe,
where your inner identity can run free;
there must be an outlet for you to do what you know;
there is always someone who has a great many things
in common with you, in any and every direction
to every degree;
there is always a side to you
that you cannot completely show.

Being a poet is like being a player
of an imaginary instrument
that only you have the knowledge
and the gift to be able to play
as exquisitely as it can possibly be played;
musicians of physical instruments
are able to play their music
and give rise to vibrations
that literally can touch and speak
to the blood, the heart-beats,
and the very core and source of who someone is;
if some things were tangible,
instead of being unbelievably fragile,
and if not everything that meant the most
was not sometimes a struggle,
then there would always be something missing –
however, that is often the case
when choosing a course that is the most
untroublesome and easy;
to dare to dream is to take a chance on a risk.

Heroes are important;
music is a miracle;
every experience is a lesson;
you cannot always have, or get, what you want;
life is too phenomenal to shut yourself away from it –
to enjoy living to the fullest is essential;
greatness cannot be attained alone,
nor can you know or call yourself great –
those who truly know us are the only ones
who can describe us and tell us who we are;
to me, music is where inspiration lives
how we are all supposed to live;
to me, music is heaven, and anyone and everyone
who can feel the meaning of music
deep inside them knows how life-changing
and world-changing it is in all its infinite forms;
and that is why music is so important to me –
because it inspires me to dream like Dylan,
to think like Einstein,
and to imagine like Lennon.

My Poem ‘The Open Window’

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

I have never been able to say “no”
to an open window;
like a little white bird on a ledge,
I have never been able to fight
the feeling, the draw,
nor have I ever been able
to not take an opportunity
to fly off on an adventure –
like a child dreaming so happily
and so soundly that they are
far far away in a Neverland
of infinite imagination,
while still tucked up
at night in bed.

An open window first thing in the morning
to me is always a calling;
the view of a beautiful scene
on a hot and sunny afternoon
is as rejuvenating as a kiss;
an insight into another life
in which the possibilities are infinite
is an adventure that I never want to miss;
the white clouds of the day,
and the stars of the night,
keep me dreaming and imagining
while I am still wide awake
of epic worlds that keep me going
and thinking all day, all night,
and straight on till morning.

Windows do not stay open
for as long as doors do;
windows sometimes have to be broken through,
or more ideally climbed through;
windows can show each of us things
before we actually see them in the flesh,
so to speak;
windows… every window
are living and constantly changing and evolving
pictures of life and time
that are momentary, brief, precious, and unique.

Mirrors are reflected images,
while windows on the other hand
can let things come in as well as let things
fly free into the open air;
mirrors can only show you backwards messages,
while windows allow you to leap and go anywhere;
mirrors show only a distorted world;
windows are how children
and those with a phenomenal imagination
are able to understand what is going on
around them without having to hear
or speak a single word.

The best dreams are born
when you let every thought grow and flow;
the most inspiring stories
are inspired by searching for answers
to questions you have not yet asked
about things you did not realize
you did not already know;
just by letting everything and everyone
be connected to each other
you can invite within the light of life
and magic, and perhaps even share
something of yourself with an eternal spirit
who can at times lose their own shadow.
My favourite character of literature
would have to be Peter Pan,
and even though I may have grown older in years
I still cannot, nor will I,
ever be able to resist the temptation,
the fascination, and the flight of imagination
that I always take when I see
and when I look through an open window.

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My Poem ‘The Umbrella’

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

The greatest escape on a rainy day,
the best cover to tie you over
from the lightning and the thunder;
whenever, wherever, you are
something akin to the sun of a Summer’s day;
a perfect oasis and the most serene place
of peace of mind and spirit;
that which when you hear it playing
is literally music to your ears,
that is personal –
but can also be shared in a different way
with people that you are in constant contact with,
that both stimulates all kinds of emotions and tears –
the thing that is so intrinsic to you
it is almost a part of your soul;
the coat of protection
that helps you brave the winter’s cold.

Like the roots of a tree,
like the canopy of a forest,
like the ground beneath all of our feet,
like the constituents of a bird’s nest,
we all have things above us, below us,
and around us, that ground us,
and that inspire us and amaze us
over and over, and without them
we would not be who we want to be,
and we would not be blessed with life’s
invisible, natural, but always present, poetry.

When the rain stops falling,
when the clouds part
and the sun shines again,
when life emerges from where it has been hiding,
as the writers continue to drive
the swirls and the course
of the ink of their pens,
when the Earth settles
and a brand new set of ripple effects
echo throughout the world,
like raindrops falling on the water of a pond,
when new experiences and new thoughts
accentuate and strengthen already deep-seated bonds,
when you need a shelter to wait for a break in the weather…
take out, unveil, open again,
that which has always served to be your refuge
and your constant umbrella.