My Poem ‘The White Rabbit’

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

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 , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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 , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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 , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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!

My Poem ‘Sympatico’

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

It truly is good to share;
it truly is great to communicate;
it truly is epic to marvel at the most beautiful,
as you look, stop, revel, and stare;
it truly is miraculous to find someone,
and to know someone,
who from minute one
you instantly feel that they are
your long-lost soulmate.

Associations bind the planet;
relationships keep the heart of the world beating;
inside everybody is a secret poet;
there is no such thing
as an accidental or chance meeting.

The moment that you make a friend
you create ripples in their life,
and they create waves in yours;
the moment that you establish a rhythm with someone
you can always count on what drew you to them
in the first place, because to you
they are like a beautiful sand-covered beach shore;
when someone first makes you smile,
when someone makes you laugh for the first time,
there is an instant and growing synergy
and an energy that becomes spectacular
and breathtaking – like the scenery of a country mile;
and without having to try
there is a melding together
of hearts and minds.

True understanding does not always come from explaining,
true learning mostly comes from interacting and practicing;
true love for someone which is also mutual
is something that you really and truly just know;
the true pull of the universe
that holds everything together
is as mysterious as dark matter,
it is as beautiful and as shining as the stars –
and whether you realize it at all,
that which is the most important of them all in life
is to feel, to understand, to cherish,
and to realize that life is meant to be lived,
and as long as you have life
you have it all.

My Poem ‘The Changeling’

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

Everybody changes;
everyone has been changing
into someone else
since the day that they were born;
everybody goes through a myriad
of different faces;
everyone is a brand new dawn.

Everybody loves;
everyone cries;
everybody sometimes finds life tough;
everyone dies;
everybody has their moment to shine;
everyone sees the world slightly differently;
everybody sometimes has to cross a line;
everyone will never be you,
as you will never be everybody.

Changing is remaking;
knowledge is an endless forest;
thinking is daydreaming;
trust is a test;
interactions are fascinations;
some hello’s are also goodbyes;
reflections are misdirections;
everything is worth a try.

To care should never be thought of as a crime;
to feel should be thought of as a miracle;
to take your time should never be
thought of as a waste of time;
to miss something or someone
so much that your whole body hurts
is both hard and beautiful.

Memories replace other memories;
some people fall into shadow,
as others step into the light;
vision changes depending on the way
that you use your eyes;
stars can be blinding
when you are standing close to them,
and sometimes they are more beautiful
to look at, and to be comfortable with,
when seen from far away –
like the stars of the sky
that shine and arc through the veil
of the atmosphere at night.

Life is busy;
life can sometimes make you feel
like you are going crazy;
everyone lives different lives;
everybody has their own mind;
people should always strive
to find the thing that in all the world
to them has the power
to set off a chain-reaction
that will never stop being rejuvenating;
life is a puzzle in the making
that is amazing to those who understand
that everyone and everybody is a changeling.

My Poem ‘Good luck’

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

Everybody has their own
personal lucky charm;
everybody has something
to which they are
eternally grateful for,
and faithful to;
everybody has something
that they believe
protects them from harm;
everybody has a reason
for what they choose
and for the things that they do.

Everybody carries reminders;
everybody has a thing about them
that they are known for;
everybody is living a life
of ‘finder’s keepers’;
everybody sometimes has their doubts,
but everybody also has their own way
of assessing, testing, understanding,
and making sure.

Everybody has something
that they would not leave their home without;
everybody has their own comfort threshold
and their own comfort shroud
that protects them from the extremes
and pressures that they sometimes feel
bear down on them;
everybody has a moment
when their voice is quiet,
while their thoughts are loud;
everybody can do the best thing in the world
for someone in need, and that is to take the time
to stop, talk, and listen.

Some people who we know well
are like a good book;
some people who can make us smile
at any and all times of the day
are the true people who want the best for us,
and they are the ones above everybody else
who we should always trust;
some methods of attaining serenity
and peace in your life
are both abundant and rare –
however, you can tell them apart for who they are
with a simple feeling,
because they have a magic touch;
some people need lots of things
to complete their lives –
however, the secret to happiness
in anything that you do
is to take any and every pleasure in it,
and one day something surprising
might reveal itself to you
and hold you in good stead
for the rest of your life
and be a natural and true
charm of your good luck.

My Poem ‘Petrichor’

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

The air is cool;
the thunder and the lightning of last night
have taken away and abated
the feeling of fire that had been burning my skin;
the stormy weather of last night
apparently put on quite a show –
however, right at this moment,
the bright morning light
is streaming through the window;
and like every day that I venture out
into the world, I am hearing things
that I have never heard before,
and I am seeing things and people
that I have never before seen.

I slept like a still sea last night;
I never once woke up
nor was I awoken by any sound of rumbling
or by any flash of light;
when I opened my eyes from my dream,
I looked and I saw the sight
of a beautiful vision before me:
an intense light, brighter than lightning,
enlightened everything and made my world shine,
and the sound that I heard
that sounded like thunder
was my heart beating in my chest;
and as the new day began,
I knew that I could no longer linger or rest –
because what I felt next, to me,
has always been the best.

Making connections;
connecting the dots;
painting a picture of impressions;
seeing the gold within the rock;
understanding the true nature of life and the world;
finding and breathing in the clear and fresh morning air,
and inhaling that extraordinary and unmistakable smell;
feeling happy and sure;
stretching and reaching out
like a newborn chick that has only just
broken free of its shell.

People feel intensely and deeply;
everybody has instincts;
people want to feel secure, as well as free;
everybody can imagine anything
and everything in a single blink;
it has always amazed me
how much our surroundings talk to us
and what they say about us;
it has always fascinated and inspired me
how much life there is above ground,
as well on the ocean floor;
it has always excited me
every time that I have considered and thought
that I and everybody were once cosmic dust,
and that what makes me and us,
who I am and who we are,
also makes the stars what they are –
and, to me, that is enough to make
anyone’s blood rush;
it has always brought alive in me the light in things,
every time that I have taken in
the wonderful planet that I live on,
after a hot day and a stormy night,
and inhaled the air
and became instantly intoxicated
by the smell of petrichor.

My Poem ‘True Calling’

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

There is a reason
why a writer is a writer;
there is a reason
why an artist is an artist;
there is a reason
why a singer is a singer;
there is a reason
why someone can pick up an instrument
that calls to them,
and why when they play
they can do so epically and with such ease.

Acting without thinking,
moving with fluidity,
expressing without talking,
feeling the intensity
and the deep meaning
and wonder of your natural ability,
and not having to try;
being yourself; living the good life;
feeling rejuvenated to overflowing
and perfect health.

Words, numbers, sight, sound,
taste, touch, day, night,
sense, style, view, voice,
darkness, light;
symbols, windows, music, life,
colour, vibrations,
leap, dive, rise, and shine.

There are some things you “just know”;
there are some songs you replay
that will never get old;
there are some things that “just flow”;
there are some things you can see
and understand without having to be told.

Music is life filtered,
interpreted and expressed, through the senses,
inspired by the seasons and the surroundings
that the artist finds themselves,
that comes from the source and the heart
that lives to breath and beat
constantly and indomitably;
muse is inspiration made tangible –
which you can touch with your mind,
with your body, with your spirit and soul,
that keeps your artistic fire alight,
and keeps alive your unquenchable desire
to express the inexpressible.

What is meant for you
will always catch you
if you ever find yourself falling;
believe in destiny;
never forget that which to you is truly beautiful;
listen to what is all around you;
follow and answer that which to you
is your true calling.

My Poem ‘America’

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

America the great;
America the amazing;
America the epic;
America, the country,
the dream, the promise,
the pride, the pursuit,
the heart, the place,
the people who will forever
be in my heart and a part of my soul,
that is always calling to me
like a beautiful hopeful light
that never stops dazzling and inspiring me.

The America I know,
the America that I have grown up with,
the America that is like no other country
in the entire world,
that is more like a collective
of fifty different countries in-one,
who are all bound to each other,
and who would not be the same
without each other,
are like the most vast cast imaginable
of the most epic Broadway show;
the America that I have watched,
listened to, and loved since I was a kid,
is a place that has everything
and anything that anyone could ever want,
and the places within America that I have visited
have to be seen to be believed.

Every state has its own dialect,
its own character, its own identity,
its own distinguishing beauty,
customs, food, and music;
every state is like a puzzle piece
that perfectly fits together with the others,
as if since the first settlers arrived
it was always meant to be;
every state will always share more with themselves
than with anywhere else,
and they will always be inextricably linked;
every state lives and breathes
the defining ideal and the founding dream
of the country that they are a part of,
and that is the freedom to be free.

The United States of America
is a country of revolution;
the United States of America
is a country with the strongest
and the most unbreakable constitution;
the United States of America
is, and will always be,
a place where every new day
can be a brand new frontier;
there are hundreds of countries
all over the world –
however, there is nowhere else
that will ever come close to being
the powerhouse of hope, innovation,
leadership, strength, drive,
determination, creativity,
and a beacon for, and to, the entire world,
like the country that is the most phenomenal
of them all, who will forever be
the United States of America.

America poem 2015