art

My Poem ‘Mark of a Masterpiece’

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

What makes something a masterpiece,
what makes something second to none,
and perfect, is not a science,
and cannot be predicted;
what makes something stand out,
and perhaps be considered an epic
and a profound work of art,
all comes down to feeling,
emotion, timing, and an electric shock
of energy like a bolt of lightning.

A masterpiece calls to your heart
and gives rise to an overwhelming sensation;
a masterpiece elates you and changes you;
a masterpiece sews the seed of inspiration;
a masterpiece is like the sun in the sky,
or an island on an ocean,
with an endless message from the artist and creator
for you, to perhaps keep its essence
replaying in your mind
like an unforgettable tune.

Everybody has their own idea of perfection –
to some, a place of silence is a paradise;
everybody can remember a day and a time
when they arrived somewhere,
and they knew in their heart
that they had reached their destination;
to some, a person of great beauty in all forms,
and in every side of themselves,
would be somebodies categorical definition
of breathtaking exquisiteness
that they have ever seen with their eyes,
or felt with their senses.

A musical phenomenon to your ears;
a visual extravaganza to your eyes;
a hallucinogenic overload of your thoughts;
an intense and extreme maximizing and amplifying
of touch, taste, smell, greater than the impact
they had on you when you were born;
anything and everything that impacts you,
and leaves an impression on you,
is a masterpiece that is a cure
for any and all of your fears.

I have seen masterpieces of nature;
I have been entranced by masterpieces of art;
I have tasted masterpieces of flavours;
I have felt masterpieces of a person’s heart;
to me, anything that brings about a change
in a person, a place, a feeling, an idea,
about the meaning of life,
is as important as understanding and peace,
and is the true mark of a masterpiece.

My Poem ‘Tableau’

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

The music stops.
Time stands still.
You could hear
the sound of a pin drop.
Everyone and everything
is motionless
and as statuesque
as anyone could ever hope to be.
I look around where I am,
and I see the many different faces of people
who are in the exact same place,
at the exact same time, with me;
I was searching for inspiration,
however it looks like it has found me.

People come to the same place –
but, more often than not,
for different reasons;
I come here to write, to observe,
to listen, to enjoy the atmosphere,
and also to drink some coffee –
however, I can see that even though
there are parallels in people’s lives,
everybody is here under a different guise.

I scan the space where I am in a flash,
and I make instant observations of the people
sitting at all the tables:
some people are talking,
some people are reading,
some people are drinking,
some people are in the middle
of a moment of laughter,
and some people look as if
they are on their way to leaving;
some people look happy;
some people look sad;
some people look over-joyed;
some people look like
they are students from university;
some people look at home where they are sat;
some people are looking in at us all
through the window that separates
the inside from the outside.
Some people look incredibly fashion-conscious;
some people look religious;
some people look like they are on their way to work;
some people look as if they are reading something
that they need to learn.

Most people are wearing the same colours –
black, blue, and grey,
appear to be the predominant palette of choice;
however, there are small touches
being worn by people that set them apart
and show their inner-personality and voice.

Reality snaps back.
Time starts moving forward again.
People continue with their lives.
That frozen moment moves
from being the present to the past;
words are spoken;
people continue their conversations;
and at that instant,
there is the most intense
and extreme explosion of light.

The world is a work of art;
the masterpiece that is life
is a canvas that changes in infinite ways –
by the moment, you can see, feel, and think,
so much within the time of the beat of a heart;
life moves so fast,
and sometimes the only way
that you can truly appreciate
the tapestry of existence
is to have a moment of true stillness –
when you can look at the world
and see it like a tableau.

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My Poem ‘Autograph’

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

Signed objects of all kinds
have always been highly sort-after;
signed books, paintings, pictures,
ceramics, and all kinds of works of art,
that have been touched by the pen,
the hand, or the brush,
of a writer, an artist,
or the person whom that has been captured,
have always been considered to have great value –
especially if they are thought of as rare.

To have something that has been genuinely marked
by someone truly wonderful,
to me is like owning the first edition
of an epic book by a phenomenal writer;
to actually look into the eyes of someone
after they have signed something is truly special;
and telling someone how they have touched your life
and feeling the warmth in them
from them seeing your appreciation of them and their art,
does make a great moment even greater,
and the world does become that much brighter.

People who have achieved notoriety,
and who are famous because they have done something
that has made a difference,
do not truly know what they mean to some people –
but to be able to see someone’s eyes light-up
because of you is something that is magnificent;
and the knowledge that you are a role-model for people
may sometimes be thought of as a burden to some,
however I would think of it as an honour –
because even the fact that someone
who you have never met before
knows who you are- to me, at least –
is something incredible.

Whenever I stand in line
to get something autographed by someone
who I have admired for a long time,
and then I come face to face with them,
each and every time, is it absolutely sublime!
Whenever someone asks me for my signature,
I take great joy in putting pen to paper –
because the mark of my name is very personal,
and giving someone something with my name on it
I always think of as a great gift of mine.
Every time I sign my name
I think of it as if it were both
my first and my last –
and even though I may not have signed my name
as many times as some celebrities must have,
I still think that there is something great
about having something, and signing something,
with an autograph.

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My Poem ‘The Prolific’

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

Learning how to write
is like learning how to walk –
finding your voice,
and finding your rhythm of speech,
is like when you discover
that you have the gift to be able to talk;
seeing things and allowing them to inspire you
sounds easy when someone says it,
but, for everyone, it takes a while to make a connection
between what you are seeing
and why it is so inspiring –
even for a published one of a kind prolific poet;
the gift to be able to stand upright without falling over
is all about finding your own balance,
and writing is like that too:
the idea, the thought, the growth, the detail,
the quintessential individual identity
that every writer and artist has
all proliferates and shows
in whatever they are creating.

Beethoven played, heard, and made,
entire symphonies in his mind –
he knew sound and music so well,
and he had the most virtuosic command
and knowledge of instruments,
that he didn’t need to hear a thing,
because he was a prodigy;
Shakespeare spent entire morning and nights
in Winters and Summers,
crafting, staging, and writing,
the most epic, incredible, phenomenal,
plays and timeless stories the world has ever seen,
read, or heard, that will continue to inform
the entire world for eons to come –
however, during the days
when he was not as well known as he is today,
in the days in which he lived,
William Shakespeare was not thought of as highly
and spoken of with as much esteem,
as he is now: I, however, believe
that Shakespeare’s first love,
and the thing that made him the most happy,
was his sonnets and everything that he said
and expressed through poetry.

When I first began writing poetry,
I used to perhaps write a poem a week –
and then I only shared what I wrote
with a small group of friends;
as expressing my thoughts,
and writing them down in the form of a poem,
became more and more important to me,
I started to write more and share more regularly;
when I realized that instead of writing something
once a week for someone, I was now writing twice a week,
every other day, and then every day,
I knew that writing, especially my poetry,
was no longer just a past-time for me –
it was a passion, a way of life,
a journey that had no end,
and every time I write a poem now
I cannot ever shake the feeling within me, of me,
that makes me happy, when I am writing my poetry.

There are some words that are sometimes over-used,
however there are only some words that could ever express
what something means to you at a particular moment:
love, amazing, awesome, special, epic;
but when I use a word,
when someone uses a words to describe me,
I can tell you that the reason I am using a particular word
is indescribably heartfelt and true –
because words mean a lot to me,
and I use them with great care and attention,
as a poet or a writer should;
and as an artist who knows their art
like the back of the hand,
and who thinks of themselves,
and who people often describe them as being,
in my opinion, is one of the best things
anyone could ever be, or be called:
someone who is wonderfully ‘prolific’.

My Poem ‘Reading is Believing’

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

Libraries are closing everywhere I look;
the doors of places of knowledge and wonder
are being closed shut, like the covers of there books;
our breathtaking banks of inspiration are no longer protected;
I one day fear that children will miss out
on a magical and life-empowering experience,
should our libraries evaporate into a cloud of numbers and frequencies,
and as a result the future of the world will be affected.

Every day I hear about another library
under threat from being turned into a “used to be”;
every day I see people reading and entranced in a story;
every day I see people in bookstores being drawn to books
by their title and the incredible art of their covers;
every day adults and children fall in love with books
and characters for the first time –
thanks to teachers, friends, family members, fathers, and mothers.

Every second a new writer, a brand new story-teller, is born,
and continues the story of humanity;
every baby who is brought up to loving parents,
in an incredible family, is introduced to reading,
and sharing ideas, from almost the day
that they get to sleep in their own bed;
every experience has its own voice,
and some have even been reinterpreted in the form of a novel,
and then adapted into a movie.

There is no more sad or depressing story, to me,
than that of a nearby town thinking about closing a library;
I never want to see a day when the only way that words can be read
is strictly and exclusively electronically –
digital books are great, but they will never have the life-span,
or the story and journey, of a physical book,
and that is the way it will always be.

Libraries are islands of tranquility;
books are the legacy of hope, history, tragedy,
that also still carry the story and the DNA of its parent tree;
reading a book is a personal passion for some people,
and to me there is no better place to see the belief
that reading is believing than in paper books,
that are like reading every person who has ever lived’s diary;
and that is why I believe it is everyone’s duty and responsibility
to do all they can to save the libraries.

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My Poem ‘Cosmic Odyssey’

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

As I have lived, and experienced,
I have learned that you should never for a second
take a journey for granted;
as I have seen the world, as I have met people,
as I have sat in extraordinary, amazing,
wonderful, and inspiring places,
looking around, and taking in the world,
and all the details of where I am,
I have always believed that my being there,
that my being here right now,
is no accident, and why I am here means something,
or will mean something to me,
and the life that I am living, and a part of, on this planet.
I remember sitting in Central Park, on my favourite bench,
in the shadow of a statue immortalizing my favourite writer
William Shakespeare, and feeling free to breath
and capture this perfect moment in time,
and believing with all my heart and soul
that this was the place that I was supposed to be,
because this was the place that I belonged,
and if I could stay and never leave New York City,
I would all the days of my life be a happy man.

People go to different countries, see different things,
can travel to somewhere easily, and cheaply, these days,
and the cheapest expense that they will have to make
would have been the ticket and the price of an airfare;
people travel for work; people travel for pleasure;
people travel for the weather;
people travel because they are on a search;
people travel to see distant family,
and to show how much they care.

We are all on an odyssey;
we are all people of purpose;
we are all going somewhere defining;
we are all integral to someone else’s journey;
we are all people who live under a finite,
unbreakable, transcendent, curse;
we are all oracles, even though most of the time
we may not think that we are at all enlightening.

Some people are meant to make some journeys;
some people cannot be who they want to be,
but they will become the person
that they were always meant to be –
for better, or for worse –
because that is their destiny;
some people survive ordeals and wars;
however, in time, they will know and they will realize
the ground in which their roots are secure in and deep-rooted
is what makes them great, true, and as strong
as the tallest and the oldest of trees;
some people come to the realization early on in their life
that they are meant for something,
and are about, and a part of something,
older, greater, and more important than words could ever describe.
There are some people that have no idea
that they are a participant, that they belong,
that they are important, and along with everyone on Earth
they are on their own, as well as immutable in the infinite,
universal, cosmic odyssey.

My Poem ‘Fandomonium’

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

We all have our idols;
we all have something or someone
who we will travel miles to see,
and to enjoy their gifts we would do anything for;
we all would jump in an instant,
when hearing the voice of a particular call;
we all would support are favourite artists
and bands if we could, even if it meant
following them, and seeing them sing and perform live,
in hundreds of cities around the planet, on a world tour.

On my bedroom wall, I have a beautiful poster
of my favourite band CHVRCHES hanging from it,
which I look at all the time
while I am listening to their amazing and phenomenal music,
absolutely captivated by it, and in awe;
while in my room, or when I am out and about,
I am always listening to my favourite music,
I am always taken to another place,
I always imagine I am at one of CHVRCHES shows,
hearing them perform live,
and it is my dream one day to go and see them
whenever and wherever I can,
and feel as if I am in ‘electronic synthpop heaven’,
as I listen to the songs that uplift me, and inspire me,
and make me smile, and make me believe
that I am listening to music that is monumentally important,
poetic, and this is how I feel, and that is how I think,
when I am listening to my favourite band.

Like most people, I am a literary fan,
who has favourite authors, and stand out books that I own,
and I have read, that inform my life, enrich my life,
and daily take me on adventures;
like most people, I am a film fan, a television fan,
who loves the experience of cinema
and being guided on a journey by a visionary,
and shown the magic of storytelling,
and the power of the visual, audio, entrancing, medium
of epic entertainment, and also being touched by stories
imagined, as if someone’s imagination had literally
been taken from their mind and put directly on a screen.
Like most fans of a particular art form,
I am left star-struck and overwhelmed
if and when I have ever seen or met
one of my artistic heroes in person and in the flesh –
however, there are so many idols, stars, and icons, to me,
who unfortunately I will never get the chance,
nor will ever be lucky, to meet –
so the possibility and the prospect of being able to
actually and physically see a person, or a group,
that I admire absolutely, is something that I look forward to,
and for which I believe any and every fan should do,
and I would endorse and wholeheartedly implore;
like most people, to me, some things, some songs,
some experiences, some people, defy words,
and the feelings that I have for them cannot be explained,
and we will always be the only one’s who truly know what they mean.

I have met one of my favourite writers and authors,
and I even got a couple of their books signed by them,
and thrillingly for me I even got to shake their hand;
I have spoken to, and I have communicated directly with,
singers, musicians, artists, actors, performers,
who I admire and I will always like everything they do,
even beyond their most well-known channel and medium;
I am a fan of amazing music by bands of every genre,
some who as of yet are not as famous as they one day will be;
so if you ever meet me and see me while I am standing
face to face, or enjoying one of my heroes’
incredible and unbelievable feats of magic,
please excuse the vacant look on my face,
because in my head, at that moment,
I can guarantee you that it will be
complete and utter fandomonium.

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My Poem ‘Nine Lives’

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

A poet, a writer,
a dreamer, a communicator,
who loves to write,
who loves to see the world,
and who dreams of life
and adventures beyond the stars;
a booking agent, a sign-language speaker,
a people reader, someone who sees the best in people,
a teacher, a friend, and someone who cares greatly,
and who has the biggest of hearts.

A coffee-house barista,
a caffeine cocktail expert and mixer;
a business man – someone with a briefcase of paper,
electronic wonders of inter-connectivity –
who is someone who is definitely a man with a plan on his mind,
who looks like someone who I would describe as a “fixer”.

A manager, a strategist, someone who has authority
over a lot of people, who is always thinking about
work schedules, rosters, and organizing a way
to get the most from his employees in any and every way they can;
a street-performer, a gifted and amazing musician –
someone who cares and who loves their art so much
they will spend entire hours and days
sitting or standing in the spot on the street,
or in the Subway or Underground station,
they can always be guaranteed to be found,
who brighten the day and the face of every passing
child, woman, and man.

A website designer, a moderator,
a person who can read and who can speak in code,
who knows the language of binary –
someone who has the gift to be able to create magic
with the tap of a key on a keyboard;
a DJ, a person fluent in the lexicon
and the discography of music, singers, musicians,
and who understands the deep layers of sound,
and the power and the importance
of one of humanity’s oldest and best
timeless forms of communication and entertainment,
who rarely enjoys any seconds of true white noise silence,
and whose favourite place in the world
is standing behind their DJ decks
and looking out at people reveling in
the magically and enthralling music they are producing,
broadcasting, and sharing, and seeing the ecstatic joy
of people enjoying themselves
moving like a single ocean of energy on a dance-floor.

A parent, love giver, a friend, a companion,
a protector of their children since the day of their birth,
who will be there for their offspring all of their life –
someone who is one of billions of people
who they are connected to, and who unknowingly are connected to them,
because they know someone who knows someone who knows someone,
who does something, who likes something,
who has something in common with someone they know,
who they may have met.

I have met people, and I have known friends,
and I know friends and family members, who know and who do,
and who are gifted at an infinite number of things –
however, for the purposes of this poem,
I wanted to show how varied and exquisite life is,
and as an example of the amazing people in our lives
we all may know, and this poem is a snap-shot
of some of the people that I know, and have met,
who all have, and who all live,
nine interesting and inspiring meaningful linked lives.

My Poem ‘Foreverland

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

The stories we tell children
are incredibly important;
the traditions that we keep
are how the world works;
the tales that we children
are what they need and what they want;
the observance, the ritual,
the continuation, the spoken word,
the twilight bedtime storytelling,
to a child is like imaginary, magical,
meaningful, and real fireworks.

Retelling stories, reenacting and bringing to life
parables, fables, lessons, and legends,
in a play, or in a piece of expressive art,
teaches children early on the power
and the wonder of language and imagination;
even as an adult you will always remember the times
as a child at school when you were taking part
in an ensemble celebration
of one of the greatest gifts of any civilization:
the art of communication.

It is important that children
know about and believe in magic,
and are allowed to dream and imagine anything,
and taught that when it comes to their own potential,
and their future, nothing is impossible;
a child’s life, well-being, and happiness
stems from a constant feeling of comfort
that they must be gifted with from the day they are born;
other worlds, other ways of looking at something,
different ideas, different variations of a theme,
soothing and beautiful music
that sounds as if it is from an album of voices
and melodies from another planet,
can give children a skeleton key to anywhere in time and space,
and give children a truth and a feeling that is so special,
that is so eternal, it is fantastic.

Dreams and wishes do comes true,
but sometimes not when you expect them to;
you can do and see just as many breathtaking and beautiful,
hopeful and gorgeous, spectacles when you are awake
as well as when you are sailing away
on the winds and waves of your dreamland.
If you believe and never forget
that every person is a story in themselves
that is ever-changing, old, but also brand new,
as an adult, as a child,
you can continue to live he dream of true miracles
that comes naturally if you continue to believe
that everything – the past, the present, the future –
is a foreverland.

My Poem ‘The Light Fantastic’

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

The world is dark at night;
when there are clouds above
everything can seem grey;
within peoples’ heart’s
there is always light;
stars shining constantly
reveal more to life, more to us,
more than the sun of a spring day.

Every day I look far,
and hope appears;
every day I see patterns of stars,
and my imagination jumps light-years;
every day I look for a fire to sit in front of
and gaze longingly at,
and I witness the birth of a new spark;
every day I realize I have something
that some might say: ‘I would give anything for that’,
and for good, or ill, I get a sense
as to how I have lived, how I live, how I make my mark,
how I have given my heart right from the start.

Bridges are built every day;
most of us have the gift of choice;
technology has paved a new way;
everybody is now discovering that they have always had a voice;
people are learning more;
everybody is becoming savvy in multiple ways of interactivity;
people are talking to each other like never before;
we all feel, sometimes, as if we have backstage passes,
when we can see and reach out to people we idolize –
like a well-known artist or celebrity.

We can all literally find ourselves
with stars in our eyes anytime we want;
we can all take a trip to anywhere;
we can all feel triumphant
when we see the fruits of our commitment,
we can all go to the places where angels and demons
no longer fear to tread;
we can all make dreams real and tangible;
we can all be romantic, pragmatic,
dynamic, classic, terrific, or act wonderfully melodramatic;
we can all be radical, casual, natural, fanciful;
we can all be the one who searches for, lives for,
has, and is, what makes the light of life fantastic.