My Poem ‘Please give generously’

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Anything is better than nothing;
time is our greatest currency;
compassion is something special
that not everybody
is instantly capable of feeling;
being there for those in need
when they need a hand to hold
and no other form of hand-out
should be the core principle
of every charity.

It isn’t until you are personally
touched by a tragedy,
or by a shock to the system,
that you start to look at the world
and realize how important
and how much another human being
can make a profound difference to your life;
it isn’t until you look for support
from someone else that you realize
there are other people out there in the world
who have at one time
been where you are
and have gone through
what you are going through;
it isn’t until you struggle
to put into words how you feel
that you realize how important it is
to have someone to wish you sweet dreams
before you fall asleep at night;
it isn’t until you accept
that you do not know every-thing
that you can have your own breakthrough.

Our loved-ones are always those
who we see and who we think about the most;
our emotions for those
who brighten our lives
are always the closest to the surface;
our memories of people we used
to know and love are our ghosts;
our time with others is precious,
and sadly there are few things
in the end that last.

In my opinion,
100% of all that is given
to a cause should make it
to the intended-recipient;
in my opinion,
the act of giving is diluted
when it becomes a means towards an end
for someone who is not directly effected by
and who knows nothing about
what it means to be someone
who feels ashamed
to ask for help from anyone;
in my opinion,
you can’t help to save a life until you see
why everybody to everyone is important;
in my opinion,
there are some people who do not realize
that if we do not all share responsibility
for the continued survival of our species
and our planet then some fights
and some struggles will never be won.

We don’t truly think about something
until it gets personal;
we don’t truly act on something
until we are effected emotionally;
we don’t truly know how hard life can be
until we are made to feel vulnerable;
we don’t truly know
how much we can contribute
to saving a life until we try –
so, whether you do it by-hand,
by using your feet,
or whether you choose
to make your mark to help others
in a way that is wholly anonymously,
give whatever you can
to someone else in need…
and, please give generously.

‘Truly Madly Deeply’ by Mark Hastings

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My Poem ‘Special Education’

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

A student is only as good
as the teacher who teaches them;
a teacher’s true gift
is giving their student a reason to listen;
everyone is a student all their life;
every parent is the greatest teacher,
idol, role-model, and inspiration
of their child.

Teaching can be easy for the knowledgeable;
learning can be hard for the slow;
inspiring someone can be incredible;
understanding is like hearing a song
that you can’t stop listening to
after you hear it playing on the radio.

The best lessons are based on first-hand experience;
the greatest thing that you can give someone
is encouragement and confidence;
the best story-teller is an artist;
the greatest person you could ever know
is the one whom you both love and trust.

Learning can be addictive;
watching can be hypnotizing;
listening can be relative;
a perfect ending is that much more amazing
because it is the sum
of all the experiences
that were essential
in building that which grew
over time to mean everything.

We all need a reason to reach;
we all need a push when we all know
we need to make a jump;
we all need a strong foundation in the beginning,
and to preserve our own living identity
the up-and-coming next generation
need to know that it is not a crime
to let your imagination run free;
no matter what anyone tells you,
you know more and you can do more
than you realize,
and there has never been a question
that has ever been asked that was ever dumb.

What next? for a student is the best question;
Where now? for a teacher is like igniting
the fuel within the engine of a vessel of exploration;
Why? is capable of grabbing anyone’s attention;
With whom? can be all the difference,
and paying attention to the right person
at the right time can be the first lesson
to learn from in anyone’s version
of “special education”.

My Poem ‘The Light-years’

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The sun is the herald
of light, energy,
awakening, and growth;
somewhere in the world
and high-above
the star at the heart of our sky
shines and effects all of our lives
more than any of us
could ever possibly know;
light can be a life-inducer;
there are some places on Earth
where because the light is different
time feels almost frozen –
a single day can feel like a year.

Nothing is ever truly stationary;
the universe, the galaxy, Earth,
our world is constantly on the move;
even seemingly empty space
is always full of something –
the mystery of the darkness
the surrounds our perfect jewel of life
too is full of shining clues;
something that happens,
even if it is light-years away,
creates ripples in space and time
that will eventually be there
at the dawn of a future brand new day.

Billions of light-years away,
billions of light-years ago,
the dark space that now exists
between the stars and the planets
was one bright beautiful light;
the universe was smaller,
life was just truly beginning;
anyone and everyone could see
the constant streams of celestial energy flow;
there was only day, there was no night;
every instant was like a constant roller-coaster
of emotions of our many senses,
and you would only have to look at a star
to hear it sing.

The bigger the universe has become,
the more that time and reality
has been pulled and stretched in every direction;
the more that life has splintered
into many from one,
everything has felt as if it were
on the verge of snapping back
because of the almighty galactic tension.

The universe has become infinite,
while life on every planet
has become finite;
as everything becomes a rush,
the more that the time we have
to truly take everything in
becomes even more precious;
there will always be love;
there will always be fear;
there will always be a reminder
that we are one of many
and yet always connected every day
and every night in the sky above;
there will always be something out there
calling to us all with a voice
powerful and capable of traversing
within the blink of an eye
the distance and the time
between every light-year.

My Poem ‘Infinitely Mine’

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Hello, sunshine;
hello, muse;
hello, best friend;
hello, love of my life;
hello, you;
hello, my inspiration,
hello, my partner in crime,
hello, the other half of my soul
who keeps me standing –
as if our connected lives
were books and you and I
were each other’s bookends.

Even on a rainy day
you keep my fire burning;
even when the clouds cover the sky
you light up my life;
even as the world keeps turning
every time I see you
all reality stands still
and apart from your beautiful face
nothing else is as mesmerizing;
even from far away
I am always there when you need me
and I am always right by your side.

When I open my eyes you are there;
when I dive deep within my mind
you are my life-line;
when I gasp to stay alive
you are my air;
when I look at old photographs of us
I can see, just as anyone can,
that you and I are two of a kind.

We constantly wonder
what each of us are thinking;
I can look into your gorgeous eyes
and know instantly what you are feeling;
we are always sharing the same dreams
and reading the same signs;
I often picture where you are
and what you are doing,
even when we are on the phone
and simply talking –
and every day no matter the time
I am always telling you
that I am eternally yours,
and I hear and I feel you telling me
that you are infinitely mine.

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My Poem ‘Always the Starman’

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Now it is you
who is the Starman in the sky;
now you know the answer
to the question “is there life of Mars?”;
now you can see just how much
you made us all smile
and how much you made us all dance;
now it will be the stardust of you
that will fall to Earth
and makes our minds sparkle
like the stars at night;
now and forever you will be a hero
for many and not just for one day;
now you can embark
on your own space-oddity;
now and forever through sound and vision
you will speak to us
and you will sing to us all from afar;
now that you have reached
the centre of life’s labyrinth,
and as you now look back
and touch Earth from heaven
with an outstretched hand –
from one poet to another,
this is my tribute to you,
the Starman of Magic in the sky,
who will always be the eternal
and the immortal artist of life David Bowie.

My Poem ‘Love is an understatement’

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Could a single word
every truly describe
the sparkle of belonging
and the beautiful infinity that you see
in the love of your life’s eyes?
Is it ever possible to understand
the reason why the stars shine so bright
and yet are so far away?
Is there anything more incredible
than sharing the miracle vista of a sunrise?
What can you say when you have said so much
and yet there is so much more to say?

There you are…
there is your face that I always see;
there is my star in the dark,
there is my heart’s desire,
there is my soul-mate
who makes me Me;
there you sit staring back at me;
there I go imagining myself with you
and you with me;
there you are, my incredible angel;
there before my eyes
I see the love of my life,
and you are so phenomenal
you are beyond beautiful.

A look can speak volumes;
words only have power
when they are understood;
true love is like a flower
when it blooms;
when your heart beats for someone else
you feel like you are in the middle
of an intense emotional flood
that gives rise to tears,
makes your thoughts form
and then pop like soap bubbles,
and makes you feel like you are on fire,
and you literally cannot hold back
the rush of your blood.

The moment that I saw you
something changed in me;
the moment that I told you
that I loved you
was only eclipsed in my mind
by the moment when you told me
that you loved me;
the moment that I first heard your voice
all that completed me
and guided me from that instant
was the melody and the lyrics of your song,
and I have replayed that magical moment ever-since;
you are my princess,
and I will always be your prince;
thinking back to the start of everything,
I always knew that our meeting each-other
and us being together was no accident –
in fact, I have proof that you were heaven-sent;
to use only one word to describe what you mean to me
and how you make me feel would be impossible,
because the only word that comes close is ‘love’ –
but just saying that Love is what I feel for you
ultimately would be an understatement.

My Poem ‘Poetry or Truth’

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Poetry has the softest of voices,
but the loudest of echoes;
truth, just as beauty,
is in the eye of the beholder;
poetry speaks and always knows;
truth is the voice within
that is tempted to life
by the whispers of the light and the dark
as if personified by a good fairy
and a bad fairy sitting either side of your ears
resting upon your shoulders;
poetry is natural;
truth is often accidental;
poetry is limitless;
truth returns trust.

A traveler is always chasing light and time;
a detective is always chasing
the perpetrator of a crime;
two lovers are constantly in a dance with each other;
two sides of anything
always share an edge that binds them together.

When an astronaut on a space-station awakes
and they float from their bed to the nearest window,
all they want to look out and see
is the planet they orbit
and the vibrant sphere of light and colour
that looks as precious as a raindrop on a leaf;
when we all look up at the stars,
those who live among the stars
are constantly looking back at us;
when someone dies and we lay a wreath
we promise to never forget them,
even while they rest in the ground beneath;
when shooting-stars fly by
they shower us all with their interstellar magic dust.

Poetry or truth –
in my mind they are one and the same;
just as a coin is a token of currency with two faces,
dualities are how life is maintained;
truth can always be read in poetry,
and poetry writes of hidden worldly-clues;
true meaning is at the heart of everything
and it becomes even more apparent
when you ponder the question:
poetry or truth?

My Poem ‘Forest of Forever’

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Many years ago now,
in my forest of forever,
I stopped, I stood,
I looked, I dreamed,
I listened to the song
that played as the wind blew
through the trees,
I was alone but surrounded
by ancient spirits –
even though there was no other
man, woman, or child
around to be found,
I knew that I was being visited
by the ghosts of poets
and the muses of fellow dreamers –
it was as if I were communing
with my younger-self,
as well as with my future-self
and the one writing this poem:
the one who sees
and the one who believes
that every thing that happens
happens for a reason.

As I write, as I think back,
as I use the infinite sight,
as I remember all the steps
that I have taken along my path,
I am again in the woods of yesterday
and breathing in the air
and being intoxicated by the smell of pine –
I am again standing in the sunlight,
as if I have managed to leap back in time,
and I remember all that I felt
and all that walked with me
when my poetic gift was still in its infancy,
and I can know and I can remember
things that have not yet happened
but have already happened
that I have been immortalized in my poetry.

I see in my memory a land far-away;
I see the beautiful face of the one person
in the entire who is the true light of my day;
I look in front of me and I see
the man who would be me;
I turn my head and I see a boy
with blond curly-hair
who was once and will always be me;
I see an incomplete circle;
I see an unfinished masterpiece;
I see a continuously ever-changing world;
I see a shadowed version of myself
looking at me from afar
from their vantage-point
from which they can see every incarnation of me.

I cannot hold-on to my flashback for too long
before I flash-forward again;
I continue to write as if all that was
had always been just the words
that I had written by my own hand
with my own pen;
I look out of my bedroom window
and I see a floating white feather
and I am reminded of the falling leaves
that will be always frozen in time
when I return in my mind
to my forest of forever.

My Poem ‘The First of Many’

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They say that how you spend
the first day of the year
is also how you will spend
your last day of the year,
and vice versa;
every year for as long as I can remember
I have spent the first early hours of every year
doing the same thing
that I did the year before on January 1st;
some people make resolutions
and vow to stick by them
and repeat the same steps
over and over again like a novice dancer;
every year on day one I set out into the world
and I seek to quench
my ultimately unquenchable poetic thirst.

‘Happy new year’ is a hope for the best;
a smile and a kiss when the clock strikes twelve
at the first second of new year’s day
is like the important first move
in a game of chess;
a thought about someone else
can be like a torch
to help guide someone through a fog;
your constant companion
and your best friend
will help you overcome anything
that you may be dealing with –
and they could be your partner,
your hero, or they could be
your ever-faithful dog.

This is my first stepping-stone of hope;
this is my first promise to stay true to myself
in the form of my poetry;
this is my foray into a new future
I do not yet know;
this is my first new year’s resolution, of a sort,
and I can guarantee already
that it is but the first of many.