Year: 2015

My Poem ‘Stimulus’

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

It’s amazing how incredible
love and light can make you feel;
it’s unbelievable how fantastic
the thought of being with someone
can make the world feel truly real;
it’s breathtaking to realize
where a genuine and involuntary
choice has taken you;
it’s good sometimes to think before you act,
because everything that we do creates an echo
that always comes back to you.

There is no one alive
who does not wear a scar or two,
however some people’s scars
are more prominent than others;
just because someone is scarred
doesn’t mean that they aren’t beautiful;
if someone truly loves you
then when they look at you
any imperfections that you may see
when you look at yourself in the mirror
they will not and cannot ever see,
because to them you mean more than anything,
and what makes you who you are
is their timeless and ever-lasting forever.

The people who love every second
of being with the one that they love
do not need anyone to tell them
how they feel about that perfect and amazing person,
because their feelings are not only deep
but they are also as clear as the smile on their face;
the people who listen to music,
and the people who go to concerts,
where every word and every sound
reverberates into a person’s soul,
know that there are things in life
that are so important to them –
however sometimes they are the only one
who knows why and what they mean;
the people who live every day
waiting for their one true love’s kiss
know that some things are hard to put into words,
because their power and their influence
is the most phenomenal of all stimulus.

My Poem ‘Inter-dimensional’

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

The fast moving clouds above my head
remind me yet again
that the world is constantly in motion;
the slowly decreasing volume of coffee
in my coffee cup reminds me perfectly
that everything has an end;
hearing and seeing people
conversing with others
reminds me every time
that language is like
an audibly addictive stimulus
for communicating stories,
memories, and emotions;
reading the last words of an author
is like celebrating and saying goodbye
to an old friend.

Life goes on;
heaven exists;
everybody is someone;
sometimes life is like walking through a mist;
there are worlds beyond the horizon;
there are universes where everything
and anything is possible;
there are dimensions
that stretch to infinity beyond this one;
there is life elsewhere
that is as abundant and beautiful
and as magical to behold as sea-coral.

When you are staring at a painting
you can feel like you are being drawn into it;
when you are reading a story
you can imagine yourself
as the character that you are reading about;
when you are listening to your favourite songs
you can feel every note and every word
as if there a part of you,
and you understand all that they mean
and all that they meant;
when you are watching life unfold
and real-life events take place right in front of you,
sometimes reality can be more real
than any version of anything
that our minds would ever be capable of constructing.

Some people never leave the city, the country,
the mindset of the place where they are born –
while others take flight at the first opportunity
to follow their dreams;
some people miss their calling to great things –
while others are just great at everything
and in anything that they do in life,
however some people sometimes need
to be shown what a miracle they are
and what acts of magic
they are daily witnessed performing;
some people find peace and solace
when traveling inwards;
some people find release
the more that they explore outwards;
some people go far
without having to physically travel;
some people are capable of so much
and they are so gifted in so many ways
that when they do travel to when and to where
it is always inter-dimensional.

My Poem ‘Soul of the Summer’

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

Summer is the season of the sun;
summer is the time when everything can shine;
summer is sometimes different
in different places around the world,
it depends where you are from;
summer is when all life can flourish
and share its colours far and wide;
summer brings about new experiences,
new music, new inspirations,
re-invigoration of soul and spirit,
and it is when anyone and everyone
can get out and enjoy the beauty of the world
and see the face of nature close-up,
and if and when you can
to have a good time.

The sunlight of a summer morning,
the heat of the summer air,
the vibe of a summer spent walking,
talking, recalling, and memory making;
the incomparable and intense summer glare;
the constant mood medicine on the summer breeze
that keeps you smiling;
the summer sensation that you feel
when your skin changes colour;
the summer days spent rocking
from side to side in a hammock
that feels like you are lying calmly on a cloud
as you spend hours just relaxing.

Every summer is unique;
you can capture important moments
in photographs, memories, impressions –
but you can’t every capture everything;
every summer has its valleys and its peaks;
you can often recall a particular summer
by recalling the songs that were constantly playing
on the radio that everybody was singing;
every summer is revealing,
and it is a time to say and to do
absolutely anything.

Sneakers, sandals, tennis shoes, flip-flops;
shorts, skirts, t-shirts, low-cut tops;
shades, sunglasses, baseball caps;
sun-screen, jackets, thirst-quenching drinks on-tap.

The message of the summer in which you find yourself
is always to allow things to be see, and to feel free;
the golden season is when you can seek out and enjoy
all that the world has to offer;
the meaning of every season
is to make the most of the gift of life’s beauty;
hope is meant to rush through the bloodstream of everybody,
and finding hope in something that makes you happy
is what it means to have found the soul of the summer.

My Poem ‘Easy’

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

The sound of a certain someone’s voice,
the need that has no choice;
the sight of a certain someone’s face,
the feeling of loving someone
in so many different ways;
the memory of a certain song,
the meaning that lasts so long;
the plans of the future,
the never-ending embrace
of a perfect lover.

Like the music of your childhood,
like the movies of your youth,
like giving a drop of blood,
like knowing without proof,
like the games that held your attention for hours,
like the tastes that you could never get enough of,
like the transcendental perfection
of the opening petals of a flower,
like the best kind of love
that feels like it has fallen from heaven above.

The easy, the free, the open, the hopeful,
the fresh, the new, the sweet, the beautiful,
the relaxed, the focus, the muse, the opus,
the great, the amazing, the fate, the exciting,
the butterfly, the moth, the smooth, the soft.

When you finally have what you have always wanted,
when you finally know beyond doubt
what you have always thought of,
dreamed about, and wished for,
when your life-long desire is standing
and looking at you on the other side of your eyelids
giving you a kiss,
then you know more than you could have ever known before –
but one thing that you know for certain
is that when things that are amazing
and life-changing are happening because of someone,
every step that you take because of them
is like dancing to the sound
of the beat of a song on a dance-floor.

There are some things that you just can’t make up;
there are some things that have the heart
and the soul of a great poet’s epic poetry;
there are some things that can be said with a look;
there are some things that mean so much,
and if you want them to be
can be so easy.

My Poem ‘Music-verse’

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

Before the download,
before the CD,
before the cassette tape,
before the vinyl;
before we were telling
the time of the day by sundial;
before the flute, before the drum;
before anyone ever had any thought
to what music of any kind was,
the music of nature has been playing on repeat –
lyrics, melodies, fast, slow,
deep, epic, uplifting, inspiring,
mystifying, electrifying,
amazing, permeating beats.

Before the first sunrise,
before the first drop of rain,
before the first primordial noise,
before the first feeling of pain,
before the first rumble of thunder,
before the first flash of lightning,
before the first father and mother,
there has been a song being sung
that the universe and all life within
will never stop singing.

The universe itself
and every star of every galaxy
are notes and vibrations
and echoes of light
of a vast and endless symphony;
the universe is like a turntable
and it is always spinning –
however, no matter how fast it is moving
and how fast life is rising and dying,
we all go with the revolution
of the cycle of life,
and we do not ever stop to think
that we should be in any way dizzy.

Humanity has known
that it has been making its own music
from the second that the first man and woman
put their hands up to each others chests
and felt each others hearts beating
and drumming like an earthquake;
humanity has been hearing music
ever since they heard
the first distant roar of a wild animal;
life has been sending out waves
since the creation of the universe,
and Earth is one world of many
where things happen every second
that we would call miracles;
dreams, art, birth, creation,
death by supernova –
the microscopic and the macroscopic events
that have shaped everything,
and which continue to reshape
the observable and the unseen universe,
is the music of all life
of our music-verse.

My Poem ‘My Rock, My Star’

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

You think that I am brilliant;
I think that you are amazing;
you tell me that I am the one that you want;
I tell you that to me you are will always be beautiful,
and every day I cannot get enough
of looking at your gorgeous face
and staring at your dazzling eyes
that to me are constantly sparkling.

I want you to know
that you are my only one;
you want me to know
that you will always love me beyond words;
I need you to know that you are my sun;
you need me to know that I am the only man
in the entire world who you love.

We talk all the time;
we see each other every day;
we think about each other morning, noon, and night;
we are meant to be together
and what we both mean to each other we can only say.

I tell you that I will love you forever;
you tell me that you will always be there for me
and you will never leave me no matter what;
I tell you that we will always be together;
you tell me that there is nothing
that you would not do for me,
and you have always said to me
that you would love me
even if either of us had no money
and if we both had to sleep every night
in a blue and green painted cardboard box.

We two are music lovers;
we two love each other;
we two have never been happier than when we are together;
we two are each others life-saver.

My moon, my gravity,
my fortune, my destiny,
my heart, my soul,
my first, my last,
my universe, my heavenly angel,
my diamond, my gold,
my train of thought,
my eternal compass to know who I am,
my inspiration and muse
who believes in me so much
and who wants me to never give up
or ever stop writing
and leaving my poetic marks;
my breathtaking and life-defining rock,
who rocks my world…
my sunshine, my beautiful star.

My Poem ‘Fever’

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

There are places in space,
there are moments in time,
there are faces, there are rhymes,
there are things that happen,
there are people who are who they are,
there are things that draw your attention,
there are an infinite number of multi-coloured stars
that brighten, enliven, and make your life feel
as if it is complete,
there are links that form
that give strength to weak.

Some may look at the landscape of a war-zone
and see desolation and a reason to doubt
the longevity of life on our planet,
while another person looking at the same sight
may see it as an opportunity to rebuild
and to reinvigorate, and to heal old wounds
and to put long-lasting hope into the mortar
and the stone of the newly relaid foundations
and draw lines of inter-connectivity
into the very blueprints of what is being rebuilt.

Anything can happen at any moment;
anybody can imagine anything
when their senses are brought to life,
like a spark to a fire;
even a single word can have lasting importance;
even a single glance and a look
can quickly evolve into desire.

A flash of light and colour;
the touch on your skin of a gust of wind;
the sound of a voice that always pulls you into
a magical world of wonder;
the feeling of euphoria that true love brings;
the way that things are,
the way that the many faces of the universe inter-work,
the way that even the smallest of actions
can have the most life-changing of powers,
is what will always be as things are forever –
and that is why it is always important
to cherish, to take care, and to kindle an idea,
because it does not take much in the right hands
for a single thought and dream
to take over and spread like a fever.

My Poem ‘Living the dream’

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

Morning. Silence.
Blue sky. Sunday.
Sunshine. Green leaves.
The sound of flying birds and bees.
People having breakfast;
people cutting their lawn;
people still in bed
enjoying a well-earned rest;
people opening their eyes to the daylight;
people opening their mouths wide with a yawn.

Church bells ringing;
friends cycling;
music on the radio playing;
somebody somewhere
on the early morning ocean
sailing, loving, breathing, living.

Walkers, runners, riders,
painters, daydreamers, photographers,
embrace every moment of light and feeling;
diners, parishioners,
attend the same place of worship
and break bread together to prove
that they believe what they believe;
pilots, para-gliders,
balloonists, sky-divers
take to the air and defy gravity
and live the dream of touching the worlds ceiling –
people who just want to step away
from the rush of the world for a short time
and feel the amazing and the rejuvenating energy
of total and utter release.

People experiencing awe;
people feeling wonder;
people traveling far;
people feeling hunger.
I look at the world
and I see depths of colour;
I listen to what I hear,
and I hear sounds
from every length of the sound spectrum –
from water-drops in a pond
to the joyous explosion
of a child’s laughter.

Life is important;
life and purpose is individually indefinable,
and yet understandable, tangible,
as well as miraculously magical;
life can only be lived once;
life and dreams can sometimes be indistinguishable;
life is living and not worrying
about the things that people sometimes say
and the things that some people do;
life is reading, feeling, sharing,
and witnessing the dream of life come true.

My Poem ‘Psyched’

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

Every morning is a new beginning;
every time we open our eyes
we see something we have never seen before;
every time something opens our eyes wide
we all experience a sensation
that feels to us as if we are falling;
every night just before we fall asleep
every one of us psychs ourselves up
for the day that is to come –
and just as when we are a child,
the first steps that we take of anything
are as important and are as essential
as finding your balance and then walking,
or making sound and saying words
that will form the basis of talking
and sharing what you are thinking.

Whenever each of us has a task to perform,
or a thing that we must do,
each of us has to build up some kind of momentum
before we can truly move;
whenever an artist looks in front of themselves
and they see the space of a blank page,
each and every artist needs to see
an imaginary picture so that they have a guide
to follow, or the outlines of something
in between which they can colour in
with their own emotion
and individual experience colour palette
that they have been mixing together
successfully their entire lives
every single day.

Just as every artist needs a muse to inspire them,
everybody needs something or someone
to get up for and to keep them going;
just as every day, in a way,
everybody has to start again,
sometimes you just have to act on instinct
and use the power of your muscle memory
to see you through something
without any unnecessary deep-thinking.

Days must end so that others may dawn;
we all must go through darkness
so that we can appreciate the light of life;
close one door behind you
as you open another exciting new door –
and as you do, leave signposts
and suggestions for others that may follow behind you
so that you can teach what you have learned
and all that you have been taught.

For anything that you may face,
for everything that you have got to do –
do what you would do
if you had to make a high-dive:
close your eyes; take a breath;
imagine the splash,
not the jump or the fall;
and smile your widest smile
to get yourself truly psyched.

My Poem ‘Guardian Angel’

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

Your guardian angel,
your true soul-mate,
the most beautiful,
the greatest of the great;
your loving, sharing,
caring, best friend,
your inspiration, your hero,
the path with whom that has no end;
the person for whom
your love you can’t ever not show.

You cannot always see them,
but they are always there;
you cannot always hear them,
but it is to your picture
that they always stare;
you cannot always be with them,
but they are always thinking about you;
you cannot always put into words
how much they mean to you –
however, you can always guarantee
that the feeling is beautifully mutual.

The poetry that they write
is the life and soul of their heart;
wherever they are, whatever they are doing,
a part of them and you
are creating invisible
timeless masterpieces of art;
the hopes and dreams that you share
make each of you who you are;
the light that shines
when you both combine
is brighter than any star.

Sometimes the less you say
the more you say;
sometimes the most beautiful flower in the world
grows in the wildest of gardens;
the most priceless jewel in the world
can only be found
and it cannot so easily be given away;
those who save us every day
are the angels that walk the Earth
and are a part of our lives,
and they are our eternal and loving guardians.

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