Year: 2015

My Poem ‘Busk for you’

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

Strumming guitar strings,
a phenomenal voice
singing into a microphone,
an amazing and captivating
reverberation of sound –
a singer, a guitar player,
an artist, a hopeful dreamer,
an entertainer, someone with a gift
who is now standing at the centre
of a circle of people,
playing their heart out,
and singing every song as if they mean so much to them,
and as if every song were a song that had be written for them;
entrancing, inspiring, amazing,
making everyone stop and stare, smiling,
and even moving a black man
in a white hat holding a basket-ball
to stop in his tracks
and start dancing like Michael Jackson.

It always amazes me how much and how deeply
music can move and touch someone,
it has always enthralled me no-end
the connection that people form with certain songs;
it has always brought me joy
to see the happiness on the face
of someone who just loves singing
and who loves playing their instrument;
it always inspires me to be up close
to share some time with the gifted
and the artistic people that I randomly meet,
who are wonderfully exceptional and brilliant,
because they are so different.

I have seen performers of every age,
colour, gender, and ethnicity,
performing publicly, in all weathers,
in every city and town that I have been to;
I have watched singers, violinists,
guitarists, brass-bands, choirs,
full-orchestras, change and effect
the very air and the atmosphere of somewhere
and share hope through their music;
I have been moved in so many ways
emotionally by every artist whom I have listened to;
I have always envied singers and musicians –
because, anyone can write a rhyme,
anyone can have an idea come to them,
and anyone can tell a story,
but only a singer or a musician
can bring words and notes to life
in such a way that elevates them
from a page to make them truly epic.

When a busker is busking
they never want to stop playing,
and when they are playing
they never want to rush;
when a singer and a musician
who loves what they do
gets the chance to play,
they experience a feeling of true divine love;
when an instrumentalist
is masterfully bringing together
all the notes before them
and combining them into one
perfect expression of sound,
they feel and they know their instrument
so well that both player and instrument
have for each other a mutual trust;
when a busker is playing on their street corner,
or in the open space
where they feel the most comfortable playing,
and where everybody knows that they are going to be,
all that they want to do
is play like there is no tomorrow,
and busk for you.

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Check out the amazing Esther Turner on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/esthermusic and on Twitter at @Esther_Ninja

My Poem ‘Koi No Yokan’

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

‘Koi No Yokan’ – Japanese origin:
“The feeling upon meeting someone
that falling in love with them
is inevitable”

The right place, the right time,
the right face, the right light,
the right spirit, the right person,
the right minute, the bright light of the right star
who fills your sky and your life instantly –
a perfect angel, a beautiful sun.

Every lock has its own combination;
until you hear the unmistakable ‘click‘
you cannot know what is locked away inside something;
every look has a shine to it of wonderful fascination;
every mixture of words, thoughts, emotions,
and intentions is its own spell of magic.

Love between two destined
and fatefully connected people is inevitable;
love that is meant to be
is not always instantly understandable and conceivable;
love that grows stronger over time is addictive,
intoxicating, and incredible;
love that is timeless can never dim
nor become any less intense,
because such love is indescribable
and worth fighting every day for.

Love can be shown;
love can be expressed;
love can be said in many different ways
in every language all over the world;
love is more than any simple word;
love is a question; love is an answer;
love is a meaning; love between two soulmates
is rejuvenating and healing;
love is its best when it is instant,
natural, and it comes into your life
and never leaves –
because if it were to run away
you would never stop feeling
within your heart and your soul
as if something were missing.

You may love many things,
you may love many people in your life –
but your one true love
is everlasting beyond compare,
and they are what you think
and dream about from morning to night;
you may meet someone
and instantly feel a connection with them,
as if you have known them for years –
and that feeling is so unbelievable,
and it means so much,
that no matter where you go,
being together and loving one-another
with all your heart
is not only beautiful to behold
like a beautiful perennial flower,
but it is also the most amazing miracle
that will ever happen to you in your life,
and from day one is indescribably inevitable.

My Poem ‘Art & Soul’

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

Art is personal;
art is an expression of heart;
art is life’s missing parts;
art is the signature,
the fingerprint,
the indelible footprint,
of our soul.


To me, an artist is a magician of colour
who understands the deep emotional connections
that are ever-present throughout life;
to me, a piece of art is like a timeless child;
to me, an artist is a wizard of light;
to me, art should be seen, embraced, felt,
and it should call to you –
like the roar of a lion in the wild.


The epic mountains, the vast valleys,
the beautiful shores and seafloors of Earth,
are like a piece of one of a kind
natural sculpture –
and the time that was taken
to create and sculpt such masterpieces
was worth every second of every century;
the art painted on every cave
that still remains, and will always remain,
on the cave walls on which they were painted
are landmarks of human evolution
and creativity that are more extraordinary
than words could ever describe –
because, to me, they are proof
that not only were our ancestors
masters of hunting, gathering, and surviving,
but that they were also communicators,
dreamers and thinkers,
and curators of compelling
and powerfully evocative artistry.


Art has been a love of mine since I was a child;
even at a young age, expressing myself
with pencils, pens, colour, and paint,
was my way of letting my imagination go wild;
artists, to me, as a child, were like lords of time
who could capture a moment at its most inspiring
on a canvas that was always deeper
than it appears when seen from the side;
the moment that I first saw
Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’,
I looked into her eyes
and I instantly started to smile.

Whenever I go to an art gallery, or art exhibition;
whenever I look to the landscape of the horizon,
at any time of the day, no matter where I am,
I see art that is beautiful;
whenever I see something artistic
that somebody has made and created,
everything about me vigorously vibrates
with voracious energy and inspiration;
whenever I see art –
be it a Michelangelo, an Andy Warhol,
a vace of Sunflowers or a Starry Night
by Vincent can Gogh –
I want to make my own art
and express the emotions that I feel
about what I see, in words of poetry
from my heart of art and soul.



					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The Mix Sense’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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When you can’t see, you hear;

when you can’t hear, you feel;

when you can’t feel,

you can say everything

with a look and a tear;

when you can’t cry

and you cannot express,

the only thing that you can do

to bring you back to life

is to strip yourself down to your soul

and let all of you be revealed.


There are times to be modest,

and there are times to be wild;

there are times to revitalize and refresh,

and there are times to look in the mirror

and like the look of your own style;

there are times to breath,

and there are times to believe;

there are times to take an intermission;

there are times to feel absolutely wonderful,

as if you were an infinitely floating leaf.


Everybody has a sixth sense;

in all the universe,

there may be an infinite number

of incredible, indescribable,

and breathtaking senses

that we cannot yet give a first-hand account of;

anybody who can look out, see, watch,

and who can take notice of the differences

that they see happening all around them,

is using a power that unifies

every one of their senses

into a single sense – a sixth sense;

that is something to realize,

and to take note of,

but to not think too much about,

which you should imbue from

as much as you can

and feel it turn a page in the book of your mind,

as if you were experiencing

a moment of falling in love.


To me, love is a sense all on its own

which has infinite depths, layers,

and intensity to it

that you can’t ever remake

or attempt to clone;

at the core of the universe –

where all life, energy, light, time,

and meaning was born, will die,

and will come back to life, ad aeternum –

there is a constantly beating heart

sending out waves of change

throughout a multitude of dimensions of reality,

and there are some people who can sense

and feel these waves that echo

faster than the speed of light

and they can feel the changes

that take place all-around

and within themselves,

as they are made to see

what is right there

through a slightly obscured lens;

there are people who can stop time

and live an entire lifetime in a second in their mind,

however they sometimes miss the most important things

about life that make everything make sense.

All that is meant to be as-one

are what rise from the ocean of life

and stand out like a beautiful island

of infinite possibility –

which are like nothing else that you may see,

hear, taste, sense, touch anywhere else

in life’s incredible and infinite mix.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Two for Joy’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Trust and connection,

familiarity and intimacy,

understanding and love,

that incredible and amazing feeling

that makes you so happy.


A look, a smile, a sound, a laugh,

a shared energy of meaning and identity,

that stimulates a feeling

of fluttering butterflies within your heart;

a shared song, a duet, a pairing and an enlightening

of the best of each other that you yearn to feel

and want to show and share with everyone

watching both near and far away;

a poem inspired to be written

in the same way that the melody of a song

needs to be played.


Glances, kisses, touch,

timeless love that makes you feel lost;

when you know that you have found your One,

nothing and no one else matters,

because to you what they mean to you

is as precious and as phenomenal

as interstellar dust;

they are your world,

they are your life,

they are a part of your soul,

they are your light.


I have always believed

that true love is like a force of nature;

while gravity pulls you down,

love lifts you up;

I have never wanted

and I have never been able to keep

my feelings from bubbling over;

while you are worrying about what may

or what may not happen,

there is a divine dance

and a biological transition taking place –

that is quietly magnifying

and setting into motion

the opening of a stream

and a waterfall of extreme emotional expression,

that will make every part of you

feel even more addicted, obsessed, and in love.


When you are one,

you can feel sorrow;

when you are one of two,

there are things about you

that you only want the One you love to know;

when you are up at night,

or waking up first thing in the morning,

when you are in love

there is only one face and one voice

who you want to see and hear

with your eyes, with your ears, in your mind –

because they always have the rejuvenating power

to sustain and keep you alive

and protected from ever being destroyed;

when you see two people together as a couple,

or when you see a male and a female bird,

or any pairing of two animals

who adore each other

and who want to be with each other,

think of the one that you love

who means the most to you,

and remember the first line

of that memorable rhyme:

“One for sorrow, two for joy…”

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The Outer Limits’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Ever since the first astronomers of Earth

looked up at the sky to the stars and the planets,

humanity has been asking questions of themselves

about their relevance and about just how rare

and important they are within the universe;

humanity has been searching the galaxy and beyond

for a signal from another galactic inhabitant,

and even to this day there are those

who openly proclaim that because we have not yet

made contact with another form of intelligent life

in the Milky Way that we are the superior species

to be found anywhere, and that Earth is and could only be

the only inhabited world.

When I look above, I can almost hear the call

of a fellow interstellar searcher

and the beating heart of a fellow poet of the stars

being inspired by their muse

and taken away in mind, spirit, and soul,

to their imagination outer-limit.


We here on Earth know only too well

that feeling of awe and intrigue

that we feel when we see photographs

being returned to Earth from man-made probes

of distant worlds – that we have all known about

and heard about, but which have never been seen before;

we all experience sheer breathtaking amazement

whenever something happens above us and around us

that may only happen once in a lifetime;

when we watch a rocket launch,

or when we witness the first footsteps

and impressions made by someone or something

on an unknown and undiscovered brand new land,

we all return to the memory of when we were a child

making an airplane out of folded paper

and watching it be carried on the wind, and sour;

we, I, always go ten steps beyond

when the thought of what and who could be out there,

in the dark, on their own planet, imagining us,

as we imagine them, and what just the knowledge

of each others’ existence would mean

and would do to the thoughts

and to the dreams of the others’ mind.


Every form of life is special and unique;

every planet orbiting around every star

is like the integral and unmissable

musical notes of a galactic symphony

that have their own vibration and sound to them,

that when heard playing with the rest

of the interstellar musical instruments and keys,

as well as on their own, sound nothing short of perfect;

everything that happens in space

is always a spectacle to us all here on Earth,

even if it is the sight of a fly-by by a passing comet.


Being a poet, I naturally look at life

and the universe slightly differently

to how someone else might see it –

however, I believe that everyone can see

inspiring wonders and they can be inspired

to take a trip of discovery

into an exciting new frontier,

and explore the amazing mysteries and questions

that drive us all when and if

we choose to step into the realm

of the outer limits.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The White Rabbit’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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I sometimes feel like

I am akin to the white rabbit of Wonderland;

I almost always find myself late,

because even in my mind

I am always rushing off to somewhere;

I sometimes feel like I am in an hour-glass

being slowly rained on by a constant dusting

of falling grains of sand;

I sometimes struggle to know

when to go and when to stop and wait;

as I watch time tick by,

like the hands of a clock,

I am very rarely seen standing still –

when I am writing,

when I am talking,

when I am thinking,

are the most likely of times

that you will ever see me motionless,

and even then, my muscles are on the move –

in some way, shape, or form –

and, to be honest, for me to be in any way

like a statue I would have to be ill.


Some things do take time

to fully come to fruition;

some things can happen

and must only happen in the moment;

some things that are what they are

are driven by emotion;

some things are so important to us

their effect on us is incredibly potent.


I have learned over time

that you have to follow your heart;

I have always looked for the rabbit hole

to the unknown, and ran down it at full-speed

without any thought of stopping myself, or looking back;

I have always been enamored by every sentence

that I have read that has ever ended

with a question mark;

I have always considered every opportunity

as if it were a doorway to somewhere

that is so full of inspiration and wonder

it would and will always be impossible

to ever pin-point the location

of everything there on any kind of map.


I have always believed

that there is no such thing as coincidence;

I have proof that every thing

and every person comes into your life

and is a part of your life for a reason;

I have vowed to myself to never stop

doing what I do, and to will keep going –

to keep walking through every open door,

and to keep jumping over every fence;

I have watched people leave others behind

when they feel like they have to

if they want to have the thing that they most desire –

I, however, do not give up on people

or on anything that matters to me lightly,

and if I could I would be there

when and where I am wanted and needed

for those who need me

through all the colours and shades of every season.


Anything can last forever,

if you don’t give up on it

and if you don’t forget it;

while you are looking around

and taking in life and your surroundings,

try to see the signs that you should follow,

if you want to experience

your eyes being opened wide

by a thought as amazing

and as dazzling as a bright light;

the things that may happen to you

if you choose to sometimes not worry

about all the things that could happen,

and if you learn to grasp the secret of everything:

that everything happens all at once,

and that the past, the present,

and the future are all one and the same –

and, if and when you do, that is when life

will feel even more beautiful and epic…

so, make sure you look around from time to time –

so that you may see, and perhaps choose to follow,

you own personal, life-defining and enlightening,

white rabbit.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The Night Owl’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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You stay up all through the night;

you see the shine of the moon,

as well as the rise of the morning sunlight;

your natural environment is darkness;

your natural instincts come alive

when the world is quiet

and you can spread your wings

and use to the best of your ability

your finely-honed senses;

you see more than most others do;

the daylight You is more beautiful than words,

but the nocturnal You allows you

to show parts of you

that can only be seen

by they who can see that you are

the most wonderful and magical miracle

in the entire world.


You look, you see, you hear, you know;

you take flight into the air

faster than a firefly;

when you hear the heartbeats

and the pulses of energy

of the music of the night,

before you can think

you are following your own heart,

and away you go!


When I see you,

you glow and draw me towards you;

when I look into your big,

gorgeous, dark-brown eyes,

my thoughts burn like the sun;

when you call to me,

I feel like I may soon

turn into a mythical wild animal –

like a werewolf howling at the moon;

when I take in everything about you –

when I watch you, when I follow you,

I feel with every fiber of my being

that you are my true heart and soul desire,

and I feel like I would not and could not

be me if I did not have you.


There is life that thrives

and was made to have an innate connection

with the twilight;

there are people who only know

the tranquility that can be found

in the dark when the stars can be seen shining bright;

there is life with gifts

that mostly show themselves

only when the sun has set below the horizon –

with powers to them that, to me, are in every way

amazing, epic, magical, and mythical;

there are people who feel comfortable

in their own skin who feel serene and wonderful

when they can be their natural self,

when they are up all night long

and enjoying every moment

of being the quintessential night-owl.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Venti’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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My heart is big;

my imagination is vast;

my inner voice regularly

becomes audible when I write or sing;

my vision is a constant bridge

to the future and the past;

my cup is always full;

my love is for the most beautiful;

my reason for being

does not have one meaning;

my life has been blessed

by the truly amazing;

I feel deeper than the deepest well;

every poem that I write

I like to think of as both

a seed and a fully-fledged tree;

when I see things that inspire me

I just cannot wait to capture,

show, and share all through my poetry –

because every thought that I have

is always the same size

as my favourite cup of coffee…

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Get Up and Go!’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Whenever I wake up

and I feel the warmth of the sun on my face,

whenever I hear the sound

of birds singing sweetly outside my window,

whenever I open my eyes and I see my home

and the perfect oasis of the human race,

I always feel invigorated with inspiration

and energy, and I always feel this irrepressible need

to get up out of bed, walk out my front door,

pick a direction, and just go!


It’s great to have something planned to do –

however, I always find it more exciting and fun

to not plan too much, and instead just go with the flow;

it’s great to have something to look forward to,

but I always say that you should never worry

too much about the finer details of something –

because if you let things happen naturally,

amazing things can happen and will happen,

one after the other,

like a line of dominoes falling in a row.


If you are lucky enough to live near a beach,

then every morning the soft sand,

or the infinite pebbles, of that beach

should always be your first port of call –

because to be able to walk the shoreline

and hear the sound of the waves crashing near me

would be unquestionably amazing and incredibly beautiful.


I have always believed that the way that you wake up

will always inform what kind of day you will have;

I have always believed that no matter what happens

you should always start your day with a smile –

to the world, to someone, to yourself –

and whatever you do just do your best

to ride all the ups and downs of the worlds waves.


The thought of surfing in the morning;

the feeling of sitting somewhere tranquil and gorgeous,

and opening my mind up to everything,

and not even thinking too much…

just living, breathing, seeing, dreaming, and writing;

the thought of running along the wooden boards of a pier

and then reaching the end and diving off into the ocean;

the feeling of the perfect sea-breeze

blowing through my hair would make me want

to live intensely to the extreme of every emotion.


It is never too early;

it is never too late;

you are never too old or too young to run free,

or maybe even climb a tree;

you can do anything that you can put your mind to,

if you leap and keep moving

with every beat of your heart;

sunsets are meant to be seen;

memories are just waiting to be made;

knowledge is just waiting to be known;

life can be lived as if it were a dream;

if you enjoy every and any ride that you find yourself on –

then you might perhaps find yourself

face to face with someone who needs to be saved;

so if and when you ever feel

an energy within you start to grow,

run towards the light,

feel carried as if on a great wave,

and embrace the rush

of your inner get up and go!