artist

My Poem ‘Seasoned’

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

Like the trees of an old forest,
like the face of an old man,
like the smell of an old leather jacket,
like an old song that always making
new fans of its artist or band,
I feel both young and full of life
and yet mindful and seasoned;
life has been inspiring me
since I was a child,
but now I understand
that for everything to be
there must be a reason.

When I was a child
my imagination was always my super-power;
making my dreams a reality
have gotten easier
as I have got older;
when I first began making art as a boy
my head and my heart
knew even then that
being an artist was going to be
my life-long forte:
I remember spending hours
drawing and painting
and loving every moment
that I spent making
and creating something new every day.

Art has always been a fascination
and a passion for me;
stories have always been to me
the greatest of escapes;
I have done so much,
I have thought so much,
I remember so much –
however, sometimes my memory does
on occasion compartmentalize;
I truly do not ever forget a thing,
but I admit that there are times
when I lack the gift of instant-recall –
you could say that I have a photographic memory,
but that it takes a certain stimuli
to bring back to mind
what I heard with my ears
and what I saw with my eyes.

My family has always held on to everything,
the thought of throwing anything useful
or something draped in memories away is alien to us;
I have learned over time
that everyone at times must refocus;
my family has had so much happen to it –
if most of what we had all been through
were written down one day
it would definitely be a best-seller;
like everyone, I am guilty of making mistakes
from time to time –
however, I try to not make the same mistake twice
and I endeavour always to be a fast-learner.

Everyone has a passion –
music, literature, movies,
games, traveling, dancing,
performing, chilling, cooking,
shopping, writing, photographing,
caring about the well-fair
of another living thing –
and for that passion they would do anything;
everybody has dreamed
that they could do something fantastic
and everybody is able and are capable
of performing a miracle for someone else
in their life more than once;
everyone should always be looking,
seeing, listening, hearing;
everybody should embrace time,
not fear its passing in the slightest –
because with time comes many amazing things
that can only be fully experienced
and appreciated by someone
who is seasoned.

My Poem ‘Psyched’

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Every morning is a new beginning;
every time we open our eyes
we see something we have never seen before;
every time something opens our eyes wide
we all experience a sensation
that feels to us as if we are falling;
every night just before we fall asleep
every one of us psychs ourselves up
for the day that is to come –
and just as when we are a child,
the first steps that we take of anything
are as important and are as essential
as finding your balance and then walking,
or making sound and saying words
that will form the basis of talking
and sharing what you are thinking.

Whenever each of us has a task to perform,
or a thing that we must do,
each of us has to build up some kind of momentum
before we can truly move;
whenever an artist looks in front of themselves
and they see the space of a blank page,
each and every artist needs to see
an imaginary picture so that they have a guide
to follow, or the outlines of something
in between which they can colour in
with their own emotion
and individual experience colour palette
that they have been mixing together
successfully their entire lives
every single day.

Just as every artist needs a muse to inspire them,
everybody needs something or someone
to get up for and to keep them going;
just as every day, in a way,
everybody has to start again,
sometimes you just have to act on instinct
and use the power of your muscle memory
to see you through something
without any unnecessary deep-thinking.

Days must end so that others may dawn;
we all must go through darkness
so that we can appreciate the light of life;
close one door behind you
as you open another exciting new door –
and as you do, leave signposts
and suggestions for others that may follow behind you
so that you can teach what you have learned
and all that you have been taught.

For anything that you may face,
for everything that you have got to do –
do what you would do
if you had to make a high-dive:
close your eyes; take a breath;
imagine the splash,
not the jump or the fall;
and smile your widest smile
to get yourself truly psyched.

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 ‘Imagine like Lennon’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Dreamers never stop dreaming,

dreamers take great comfort

and they feel great joy

in the knowledge

that they are not the only ones;

imagineers never stop imagining,

and because their thoughts,

dreams, and hopes never stop coming

and flowing, miraculous new discoveries

and ideas come to light

and are allowed to shine

all over the world on the eyes

and from the hearts of countless people,

as if they were new born stars and suns.


An artist in an artist from birth;

a storyteller is a reader of other stories

by other writers, who has always felt

compelled to create stories of their own

and take people on a journey;

many artists have sought inspiration from above,

like the first drop of rain

that began all the oceans of Earth;

to be who you are meant to be in all walks of life,

and in all stages of creativity and evolution,

everybody must be able to just be.


There is a moment, there is a spark,

there is a light, that brightens the dark,

there is an instant of change,

there is a time to step back

and rethink and reinvent,

there is sometimes one perfect expression

that is beyond any and all words

that could ever fill a single page;

there must be a world within you

where you can go to that is even more

limitless and boundless than the universe,

where your inner identity can run free;

there must be an outlet for you to do what you know;

there is always someone who has a great many things

in common with you, in any and every direction

to every degree;

there is always a side to you

that you cannot completely show.


Being a poet is like being a player

of an imaginary instrument

that only you have the knowledge

and the gift to be able to play

as exquisitely as it can possibly be played;

musicians of physical instruments

are able to play their music

and give rise to vibrations

that literally can touch and speak

to the blood, the heart-beats,

and the very core and source of who someone is;

if some things were tangible,

instead of being unbelievably fragile,

and if not everything that meant the most

was not sometimes a struggle,

then there would always be something missing –

however, that is often the case

when choosing a course that is the most

untroublesome and easy;

to dare to dream is to take a chance on a risk.


Heroes are important;

music is a miracle;

every experience is a lesson;

you cannot always have, or get, what you want;

life is too phenomenal to shut yourself away from it –

to enjoy living to the fullest is essential;

greatness cannot be attained alone,

nor can you know or call yourself great –

those who truly know us are the only ones

who can describe us and tell us who we are;

to me, music is where inspiration lives

how we are all supposed to live;

to me, music is heaven, and anyone and everyone

who can feel the meaning of music

deep inside them knows how life-changing

and world-changing it is in all its infinite forms;

and that is why music is so important to me –

because it inspires me to dream like Dylan,

to think like Einstein,

and to imagine like Lennon.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The Art Complex’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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There is nothing more inspiring than art;

there is no one more interesting than an artist;

discovering new art is the best part of any day

and when I do I am always touched deep in my heart;

to me art is magic –

and right this second there is so much art in the world

it is beyond the dreams of any dreamer,

and it has to be seen to be believed

and must not be missed.


Art is on every city street corner;

art can be seen in the sky;

art can be seen on doors;

art is being created spontaneously every minute,

and the true gift of art

is that it not only is an expression of spirit

but it is also being painted on a canvas

that is as deep as a black-hole

and also infinitely wide.


I believe that we are in an artistic renaissance

filled with music, portraits, paintings,

literature, poetry, creativity

on so many levels of complexity –

the rhythm is so encompassing and phenomenal,

art inspires more art,

and artists are like the choreographers

of a profoundly beautiful and moving dance.


I wake up every morning

and art is the first thing that I see;

I open my eyes every day

and I see new life in the new light;

I open my mind as I open the curtains

and I see the most awe-inspiring masterpiece

right in front of me;

I imagine something I have never thought of before

and my imagination and I are away

climbing higher and higher by the second

faster than a kite.


Watching an artist create art,

even for a fellow artist,

is powerful and inspiring;

watching a blank page or a white canvas

slowly transform into a piece of art

is incredibly amazing;

seeing inspiration come to life

by the hand of an artist

and watch their vision evolve

from being something ethereal

to something tangible is breath-taking;

witnessing the reveal of an artists poetic license

is truly fascinating, inspiring, and enlightening.


Art is words, colours, light, dark;

art is natural, meaningful,

life-changing, emotional;

art is epic, magnetic, and an artists body

and mind is never at rest;

art is never untouchable –

it always has a reason to be,

and it is always preceded by a spark;

art is reveling in the freedom of your birthright,

and focusing on attaining a never-ending goal;

artists of their time are avatars

of the world they live in which they are inspired by,

and every artist knows that no matter

how simple something appears

in actuality everything is a work of art

and is a story that is substantially

and markedly complex.


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My Poem ‘For the record’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Like the Earth orbiting the sun;

like the solar system

spinning around the core of the galaxy;

like the sounds that can be heard

while listening to the noise

of the interstellar background;

like the racing heart beat

of somebody out on a run;

like the natural soundtrack of life

that you can hear and feel

which you can imagine with great detail

without needing to see it;

like the sound of waves crashing on a beach;

when you listen to the music

that sings to your soul

and inhabits your heart

that has been recorded

in the most exquisite quality possible –

in memory, on CD, on vinyl,

the spirit of the music, the artist,

the magic and the depth of the human mind

and body gives you back every time

something you wait with anticipation

to be found so that it may

again and again resound

and make you feel as if

your feet have left the ground.


People love music;

music is so adored and worshiped

it is like a religion;

music can inspire people to be

and to do anything:

to be brave, to be thoughtful,

to be artistic, to be prolific;

everyone knows what their favourite song

or piece of music is,

and everybody has a personal

and a profound reason for why

their song is their song.


Music has been a part of our lives

since we were born;

albums and artists have been talking to us

and taking us to our dreams

since we heard our first old-favourite;

music is at the centre of our universe

that rotates just as fast

as the grooves of a vinyl album on a turntable;

listening to music is always a blessing,

and never a chore;

there is so much music that has been created

that is epic and great;

music is a gateway to an astoundingly-beautiful

and magical world.


Music is the eternal and universal love

that everybody and anybody can enjoy

and be blessed with their entire lives;

music is what we all share

an invisible connection to

and are attached to every second

by an unbreakable umbilical-cord;

music is the abundant source of energy

that makes life what it is,

just as much as the sun’s light;

music is the single most important,

meaningful and memorable thing

that the human race will be remembered for

by future generations and fellow space-travelers –

and all we do will live on forever

as our greatest monument of ourselves

for the record.


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My Poem ‘Artistscope’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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When you have a gift

you need to show it;

when you have a natural talent

you need to share it;

when you have a personality

that is wonderful and magnetic

you need to let your light shine;

when you look at life

and you are instantly attracted

to its amazing wonders,

especially if you are an artist,

then you need to capture

those miracles of the world

and of your imagination

and give them everlasting life.


Artists are the most amazing,

phenomenal, sensitive, wonderful

and expressive people you will ever meet,

and every time I make a connection

with a fellow artist I become inspired

just by seeing, sensing,

and touching their spirit;

some people understand art,

and some people don’t –

but one of the most incredible gifts

of an artist is their exceptional power

to distinctively emote;

there are artists living

on every continent on Earth,

and every one has their own

unique style and way

of expressing themselves through their art,

and every artist’s art is always influenced

and infused by what surrounds them

and the studio that is also their home.


You can watch an artist

make art wherever you are;

you can see the passion, the love,

the heart of an artist who creates

masterpieces one after another,

like the awesome LA artist Amanda Oleander,

thousands of miles away

thanks to the instantaneous technology

of the 21st century;

you can be witness to an immersive,

profound and defining moment for you

and for an artist and give them a part of you

and be with them in spirit

every second of every day of the week –

from Monday to Sunday.


Art is not bound by time,

nor are it’s artists;

art is happening 24-hours a day,

7 days a week, 365 days a year,

and art in so many of its forms

can make you smile, inspire your dreams,

make you feel something you have never felt,

and it can bring you to tears.

I feel blessed to have known

and to have met artists from all walks of life,

from all around the world,

who truly inspire me every day

with the amazing things that they were born to do;

I look to my fellow artists

when I want to see and feel empowered with hope;

art can and will always change the world,

and if you are not an artist

and you want to bring the most spectacular

rainbow of colour into your life

seek out an artist and prepare to be amazed

and awestruck by what you see

when you look through their artistic periscope.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Here’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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I am where I have been

a thousand times before –

but this time it feels different,

this time I feel different.

When I write, I like to write

about exactly what is on my mind

at a particular moment in time –

however, where I am right now,

I have never been her before.

We can all go off and enjoy adventures

and make mistakes,

but we should never forget

what and who is truly important –

and I think, for a little while, I did,

and I have, and I realize now

the cost that our actions can have,

and there are always consequences

to going off like an outlaw

off the beaten-path.

I feel, looking back,

that I made the mistake

of forgetting who I truly am,

and chasing after a mirage

that never existed.

That is what happens

when you find yourself in a desert

and you lose your way –

when you want something so badly

you can accidentally find yourself

in the middle of a game

that someone else is playing.

Now I feel like I have come through the dust,

and the wilderness, and I have found myself

back where I started –

I am a different man to the one

who set out so long ago,

but seeing the familiar places and faces

who were a part of my life for so long,

I feel like I have come home.

I feel like ‘the man with no name’;

I feel like I have returned

after taking a treacherous trek

through lands where no one would ever

knowingly choose to dare;

I feel like I have found an old photograph

and I have stepped inside the frame;

I feel like I have come out

the other end of a dark tunnel

into the light of the day,

and I need to find out who I am again.

Where am I?

I am where I should have stayed all along,

I am where I belong: I am here.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Selfie’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Long before the ‘selfie’ was the “selfie”,

long before we used to take pictures of ourselves

with our cameras and share them with our friends,

the ‘selfie’ used to be known as the ‘self-portrait’ –

and, to this day, it is a way

for an artist to show people

what they look like so they can see

who they are, where, and when;

so, the so-called ‘selfie’

has been around for hundreds of years –

however, instead of using paint

to create our self-portraits,

we now use our reflections

as they appear in mirrors.


It is a time-honored tradition

to take pictures of ourselves,

and to me it is in no way egotistical

or self-indulgent;

it is the most important thing

to capture memories and to show how

someone appeared when they had moments to remember,

and when they were happy and in full-health –

and that is why I believe

the self-portraits that we capture and take daily

are brilliant.


If you are comfortable to take a photo of yourself,

it just shows that you are happy in yourself

and how you look;

those who don’t have the same level of self-acceptance

in their appearance would seldom choose

to take a picture of themselves,

because there is something about them

that they would change if they could.


There is nothing wrong with taking a photo of yourself,

especially if the reason that you are taking the picture

is because their is no one else around

to take a photo of you;

people have been posing for pictures

since cavemen were captured on cave-walls

in paintings of hunters hunting gazelles;

if you have a camera in-hand

and you want to show someone what you look like

in a second, why wouldn’t you?


Self-portraits are art;

in this day and age,

you can create a self-portrait instantly;

self-portraits are our signature

and our unique mark;

self-portraits may no longer be called ‘self-portraits’

today in the digital age –

however, they are still what they were,

even if they now have a new same:

the “selfie”.


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My Poem ‘Mark of a Masterpiece’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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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.