My Poem “In A Galaxy Far, Far Away” (A Star Wars Poem)

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*POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR STAR WARS: EPISODES I-IX*

A long time ago
in a galaxy far, far away…
a young farm boy looked to the horizon,
to Light of the twin sunsets of his home world
of humble beginnings,
with a dream of going on an adventure
throughout the stars,
however unaware that he was already
a vital part of an epic story
and a saga that would one day
impact upon the lives, the dreams,
and the hopes of an entire universe
of people all looking to find
a purpose that would help them
decide what side of the Force of life
that binds the fate of everything
and everyone to embrace.

A long time ago, and every day since,
a reverential group of followers
of a tale of good versus evil
have diligently paid close attention
to every episode that chronicled
every twist and turn of a saga
that revolved around a “Phantom Menace”:
a Dark Lord’s insidious corruption
of the democracy of a Republic
and their rise to power
by becoming a tyrannical Emperor
who instilled fear into their subjects
and their manipulation and temptation
to the “Dark Side” of a family
with a powerful connection
to the energy field that binds
and flows through all living things
by the name of “Skywalker”,
and the many battles that comprise
the epic “Star Wars” that has defined
an entire generation and will never
stop influencing and inspiring
everyone who has lived through them.

A long time ago, X-wing starfighters
piloted by an alliance of Rebels hoping
to overthrow a tyrannical Empire
destroyed a moon-sized super-weapon –
a “Death Star” of phenomenal power
that had the potential to change
the face and the fate of this
“Star Wars galaxy” forever,
had it not been stopped…
a long time ago, a vessel by the name
of the “Millennium Falcon”
traveled through hyper-space,
beyond the speed of light,
from one side of the galaxy to the other,
and was responsible for
delivering the return of a New Hope
to counter the revengeful resurgence
of the zealots of darkness and fear
and restore peace and balance
to a galaxy and to a universe
that established from it’s very beginning –
with compelling characters, places, vehicles,
laser battles, and Lightsaber duels –
that it would never be forgotten,
even though the events that transpired within it
as stated from the outset,
all happened a long time ago,
in a galaxy far, far away.

May The Force Be With You Always

My Poem “Beacons of the Season”

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

The season of Christmas
doesn’t truly begin for me
until I am decorating
and turning on the lights
of our family Christmas tree…
it has been a tradition
for as long as I can remember
for me to be the one
who retrieves the Christmas tree
from the attic and hangs
all the tinsel and the baubles
in an always unique and random fashion,
and I enjoy every moment
because I love the thought
of creating a brand new piece
of festive art that makes people smile
and draws the attention of everybody
and fills them with a sense of awe.

My family has had a couple
of Christmas trees throughout my life;
however, we never had a real pine tree –
so I have never had the experience
of having to periodically clean up
fallen pine needles from the floor,
but I have been fortunate
on many occasions
to have taken a walk through
a forest of still growing pine trees
so I am fully aware of the intoxicating
and calming fragrance of their aroma –
and every time I get to inhale
that distinctive smell of pine
I find that it always
opens a door within my mind
to tastes, to sounds, to feelings,
and to experiences that to me define
what is so special about
Christmas time.

I believe that there is nothing else
that symbolizes the hope
that everybody wishes to find
at this time of the year
than the multicolored lights
of a Christmas tree
shining in the darkness of twilight
and reminding everyone
who gaze upon them
that all is never lost –
because I believe that every source of light
is a beacon of optimism
that anyone can use
to find their way back to a place
that can call home at any hour
of the day or the night.

My Poem “Under the influence”

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

Everybody is always
under the influence of something
or someone – however, sometimes
the strings of influence are so
faint that they almost look
invisible to the eye
even though, within our minds,
our thoughts and our feelings
are unquestionably being coaxed
into changing how we see the world,
how we think about the world,
how we interpret the world,
how we interact with the world –
and the reason why we are who we are
and why the world is the way that is it
can all be traced back to the power
that certain things, certain people,
certain circumstances, certain environments,
perhaps to certain opportunities when, where,
and how a small group of individuals
were inspired and influenced
to think something that
no one had ever thought before,
to believe something that
no one had ever believed before,
and to do something that
no one had ever done before,
and fundamentally change
and effect everything;
and the reason that we know
everybody who has ever lived
has been influenced by something,

at some time or another,
is because previous generations
always like to leave testaments
and echoes of themselves
for future generations to follow,
analyze, and interpret,
but without the true intention
of the creator in front of them
to compare the constantly evolving
product and result thereof.

Sometimes influences can easily
be seen, felt, and experienced –
because they are intentional…
sometimes influences are accidental…
sometimes influences can be like
a positive push by someone who
thinks that you have within you
the potential for something
that needs to be realized…
sometimes some influences can be bad,
counter-productive, or potentially dangerous –
especially those influences
that make you feel confused, angry,
or sad immediately after you
have been influenced by them.

Every day everybody is bombarded
by influences of every kind –
from the sun shining in the sky
to the sight of someone’s beautiful smile
that always fills you with love
at the same time that it makes you want to cry,
from a song on the radio that
compels you to sing-a-long
to an advertisement on television
trying to sell you something –
and that along the lines of how things have been,
that is how things will always be,
who the human race is as a species
and that is who we will always be, in some way:
under the influence.

“Inspirations Blog” #2: The Observer

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“Inspirations Blog” #2: The Observer

-Mark

“Inspirations Blog” #1: Banksy

Mark Hastings Blog , , , , , ,

“Inspirations Blog” #1: Banksy

-Mark

My Poem “Rabbit Holes”

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I think everybody can attest
to the experience of
once in a while watching something,
reading something, hearing something,
and then finding themselves
inextricably falling head first
down a “rabbit hole” of interest
and intrigue in regard
to something in particular –
a subject, a song, an artist,
a film, a TV show, an idea
that slowly captures your imagination
and compels you to dive deeper
below the surface and discover
what lies beneath what something
appears to be, and find the structure
that binds everything together
to make something everything that is:
experiences, words of wisdom,
influences, impressions, interpretations,
vital pieces of the creator
that will forever remain infused
into what coalesces into
making a piece of art.

The internet is a place
full of “rabbit holes” –
one moment you can be watching
an interview with somebody
whom you want to know more about,
and the next you can be
automatically recommended
to watch another video
involving someone or something
with a unique and vital insight
into a subject matter that has
a close association to the video
that you original sought out –
and it is the ever present
links that are there to be found
that make the internet the warren
of tunnels for acquiring
and dispensing knowledge,
insight, entertainment, and connection
that makes it a wonder of the modern world.

“Rabbit holes” leading to new,
wonderful, fascinating, and vastly
different worlds, of course,
is a metaphorical allusion
to the rabbit hole that Alice,
in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland”,
deliberately climbs into –
which of course was in fact
an unsuspecting entrance to
the magical world of “Wonderland”,
while following “The White Rabbit” –
has been the inspiration for many
fantastic tales in every form –
from literature to cinema;
and every day everybody carries with them
at all times portals that enable
anybody with access to the World Wide Web
of content that is the Internet
the ability to find themselves
drawn down metaphorical “Rabbit hole”
after “Rabbit hole” that while using
to expand their knowledge
and their horizons they are
all unknowingly also contributing
into the creation of what the wonderland
of the future will look like.

My Poem “Close to the Land”

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So many people
feel this incredible draw
to nature, to the wilderness,
to the back to basics lifestyle
of living out the dream
of having a cabin in the woods
to call home, in the middle of nowhere,
and a backyard surrounded
by of acres of trees, plants,
and wildlife all living in
a state of balance with one another –
even from a young age,
so many people have this automatic,
undeniable, unflinching feeling
deep within them that
the place that they want to spend
most of their time is the same place
from which all of our ancestors
sprung from and had to endure,
traverse, and adapt to for centuries –
the forests, the jungles,
the snow-covered peaks of mountains,
the dry and arid deserts,
the extreme heat, the harsh cold;
and everywhere on Earth has its own
conditions that daily test a person’s
strength of will and their reason
for being where they are,
and why they choose to do what they do –
and for some people life comes down to
and revolves around that universal
drive to be free, to feel alive,
to look around, to understand life,
to connect with our origins
in ways that transcend
the mirage of the material world
of modern society so that
they can feel fulfilled
by the spirit of being awestruck,
and feel compelled to know more
about the environment
and the natural ecosystem of our planet,
and sometimes the only way to do so
is to venture into the wild
and live as close to the land
as anyone possibly can.

My Poem “Starry Sky”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , ,

This is my poem “Starry Sky” – a modified version of the first verse of my poem “Blue Sky” that I wrote back in 2010 – which I rewrote slightly and composited with a little doodle that I did of an astronaut floating in space with the thought that perhaps my poem might one day be what an astronaut might say to when they find themselves floating in space and looking down at the beautiful blue and green marvel that is the planet Earth. 👨‍🚀👩‍🚀🌍

My Poem “Dear John Lennon (2011)”

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Back in 2011, I wrote a poem called “Dear John Lennon” about the one and the only John Lennon and since today is the 39th Anniversary of his ultimately passing I just wanted to share it again as my tribute to one of the most amazing and influential artists of our time whose influence over the people of the world continues in so many ways will never be forgotten. If you have read it before I hope you will enjoy it again! 😌

“Dear John Lennon”

One of the most phenomenal,
inspiring, magnetic, influential,
and amazing men, musicians,
and poets, of the 20th Century –
you have had a remarkable impact
on my life, my Dad’s life,
and on the lives of millions of people
all around the world,
because you were the epitome of humanity,
and you always will be.

Your music has filled the homes,
the hearts, and the minds,
of my family, since before I was born –
in fact, the first Christmas present
that my Mum brought my Dad
was a copy of your album ‘Double Fantasy’,
and the album that I know my Dad
thinks about when he thinks of you
and he wishes to mourn.

I would have loved to have known you,
to have met you,
and to have talked to you, John;
even if it were only for a minute –
after listening to every one of your songs,
and the songs of The Beatles,
I have felt many times that you were
talking directly to me, to everyone-
and to this day, and beyond,
I feel as if your voice,
and your message has no limit.

You wrote and created some of
the most incredible, moving,
amazing, and true, songs
that I have ever heard –
every song is like
an amplifier of my own
thoughts, memories, troubles,
and hopes, and I am inspired
and enlightened by every word.

You are, were, will always be,
us, all, me, and everyone;
you believed, and you saw,
that the best of life, and the world,
can be achieved through peace, love,
and through striving to be
the best that we can become.

To me, you are one of
the greatest men to have ever lived,
and everyday I mourn you
like I would a brother;
you changed the world during
your short time on Earth
for the better, and forever;
and who you were, and what you
and your music mean to people,
is a star so bright it will
never be eclipsed by another.

Everyday your music reaches out
to people so profoundly
that they can not imagine a world
in which you were not a part of it;
everyday the love that you had within you,
and the love that people
will always feel for you,
manifests all over the world,
and enlighten’s your spirit.

You will live forever,
your voice will echo for all-time
through the minds and the hearts
of all who hear your voice –
tomorrow, a century from now,
and especially today,
the 8th of December, 2011;
I believe the world will one day
live in peace with one another, as one,
and fulfill your dream:
the dream of dear John Lennon.

RIP John 😢

My Poem “The Question that drives us”

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

Everybody has a question
that drives them which influences
every choice that they make
and every action that they take…
everybody has a question
that they need answered
in order to give their life meaning…
everybody has a question
that reflects what they hope
will be their ultimate fate…
everybody has a question
that is answered multiple times
throughout their life
which, for so many reasons,
some people sometimes find it hard
to accept and to believe
because they often find it hard
to imagine what they cannot see.

Answers are not always what people
find at the end of a journey…
possibilities are what most people
dwell upon when they reach
the end of a particular story…
most things in life that we commit
ourselves to are a matter of trust…
revelations are always powerful –
but almost always, in reflection,
no matter what we are doing
and where we are going,
it is the questions that we have,
the questions that we ponder upon,
and the questions that we are
consistently awoken by
over and over again
which are the source within our life
of what truly drives us.