experience

My Poem “Ideas don’t die”

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

You can bury ideas,
you can file them away for a rainy day,
you can hide ideas –
but one day those same ideas
will return to haunt you,
to keep you up at night,
and continue to make you think…
Ideas come from places, from things,
and from people – sometimes randomly…
Ideas are like sharks –
and sometimes they are just too big,
too fast, and too strong, to get away from,
because they are so imposing
and so overpowering…
Life itself is an idea,
and many people have different
and varying ideas and opinions
on how people should choose to live their lives…
Art is mostly a nexus of many ideas
coming together to form a unified idea
that surpasses and eclipses
all the others that made it…
The creation of ideas is like
engaging in an act of reproduction –
and just like every spawn or offspring,
a song, a piece of music, a story, a poem,
has an idea running through it
that binds every note, every word,
every picture of imagery,
like a strand of DNA…
Ideas make “something” out of “nothing” –
but “nothing” in my experience
is ever truly “nothing”,
because everything does mean something…
Perception is everything…
Ideas are born from experience,
and by seeing, listening, and feeling
something that creates a connection…
Ideas are the greatest and the most powerful
source of fuel for any creative person –
however, even if do not deliberately make art,
I believe that certain ideas have a way
of changing someone in such a way
that they are never the same
after they have come into contact with them –
because, for some reason, some ideas just won’t die.

Listen to My Poem “Ideas don’t die” by Mark The Poet on #SoundCloud

My Poem “Everybody is a Poet”

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

The truth –
no matter what anybody tells you –
is that everyone is an artist,
everyone is a Poet,
everyone can do something unique,
everyone has a talent,
everyone has something that they are meant to do,
everyone has the spirit, the soul, the mind
than when honed is capable of doing anything,
expressing anything, experiencing everything
that makes life on this planet worth living…
If you can make someone smile,
if you can make someone laugh,
if you can make someone think,
if you can make someone feel something,
then I am happy to tell you
that you are an artist, you are a poet,
you are a member of a world wide
society of people who embody life
from every extreme on the scale
of reality in which we are capable of
inhaling and exhaling…
Money can’t buy you many things –
and one of the things that it can’t buy
is yourself: your life, your memories,
your experiences, your perspective,
your joy, your happiness, your hopes,
your fears, your nightmares, your concerns,
because all of those things are unique to you alone
but they can be shared and sympathized with others
because there are always others who have similar,
universal, human, psychological, physical,
and verbal insights into the kaleidoscope
of thoughts, dreams, and emotions
that drive the engine of nature
that surrounds all of us…
There are things in this life, in the universe,
that nobody can see –
when astronomers look up and back in time
to the beginning of the universe
they find an impenetrable wall of light and energy:
the innermost shock-wave from the explosion
that created everything that we see,
from the moment of the Big Bang, frozen in time –
which surrounds the answers to some of the most
important questions ever asked: Why are we here?
What is the meaning of life? Is there a God?
Everybody asks questions – that is what we do,
and that is what humanity has always done…
Everybody has a story to tell
and everybody is a storyteller
and a character in their own right…
Everybody goes on a journey during their life
to find themselves and what they believe
should be their purpose while they are alive
on Earth and a member of this world…
Everybody creates a little piece of art every day,
but sometimes it can take a while to interpret
what someone is trying to say –
however, in their own way,
even if they do not realize it,
and even if they are not actually using words
to communicate their feelings and motivations,
a person’s actions can speak volumes,
and in my opinion every action that someone
makes should be classed as poetic…
I have met a lot of people throughout my life,
and I have heard, seen, and I have read stories
about people from vastly different walks of life –
and the conclusion that I have come to
is that everybody, in their own way,
is an artist, and everybody is a Poet.

My Poem “The 1975 Experience”

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

I feel so alive…
I am still riding high
upon a wave of sound,
energy, and light,
after watching, after listening,
to my favourite band, The 1975,
live for the first time…
the experience was amazing…
the show was mesmerizing…
the almost spiritual, simultaneous,
synchronous, visceral gift
of opening your heart, your mind,
your soul, your senses, your mouth,
taking in, letting out an incantation
of love in the form of music and song words
that you know is an unfiltered
communication of pure ecstasy –
and in my opinion there is no way
of replicating that feeling of connection,
that wave of emotions that you find yourself riding…
when we are in presence of similar souls to us,
when we hope and pray to be taken away on a journey
to another place, and we reach a state
of hypnotic and perfect bliss,
returning to the outside world,
walking through the darkness surrounded by stars,
into the cold air of the night,
is like waking up from a dream
that you find it hard to describe afterwards
because it was so enlivening…
coming down after flying so high is always hard…
getting up the next morning
after a transcendental experience
is like waking up with a hangover
after being intoxicated by a drug…
I have had moments of time in my life
that were so special to me that I will never
forget them until the day that I die:
meeting my one true love and asking her to marry me,
meeting my favourite author,
standing atop the Empire State Building
and taking in the extraordinary
360-degree view of New York City,
getting my first book of poetry published,
and so many more –
and now I can add my time listening
to The 1975 live and in concert to that list,
because just like when I try and recapture
the sensations of doing all of the amazing things
that I will always remember doing,
when I close my mind eyes I still feel like
I am when and where I once was:
one moment in my lovers arms
sitting on that wooden porch in Georgia
that I still remember so well,
and the next bathed in the light
and the sounds being witnessed and reciprocated by
my favourite band, The 1975, on a cold January night.

My Poem “Transformative”

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

They say that how you end one year
you will begin the next year in the same way?
However, in this life, though we may have
no control over the when and the where
we enter and exit this world,
what we can control is what we decide to do
and when we decide to do it, and with whom…
Life is too short to waste…
Life is better when shared with a soulmate…
Time waits for no-one…
People are there one minute,
and the next they are gone…
Angels exist, demons do too…
Heaven is a real place,
Hell is where you live
when you stop doing what you love to do…
You can begin something again any time you want…
You can create anything your mind can imagine…
You can go anywhere you want –
never let anyone tell you that you can’t…
If you think of every day as if it were
the next level of a game then one day
you can reach the end of the story
you are a part of and win…
Patience is a necessary component
in anybody’s quest to achieving anything…
Planning and practice can sometimes be beneficial –
however, following a blueprint to the nth degree
can sometimes hold you back from exploring
the magic that comes from spontaneity
and focusing on the rhythm of your own breathing…
Sometimes in life you have got to be inventive…
Sometimes in life you have got to be passive…
Sometimes in life you have got to dig deep
and give all that you have got to give…
In life you have got to live and embrace
the moments of living in order to experience
a restorative energy that never ceases
to be transformative.

My Poem “Rhapsody”

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

The voices of everybody over-lap…
one minute the music is jazz,
the next the beautiful melody of a piano…
the echoes of a chorus of sounds
are carried through the air
like the waves of an ocean…
there are moments of time that run slow
and there are those that race past
and then are gone again in a flash…
there is a dance of people,
of language, of emotions,
of noise, of stillness, of silence…
the beats of a heart,
the thoughts of a mind,
the air and the ambiance
that flows gently like a stream
can gradually become a waterfall –
the place, the people, the music,
the moment that is filled
with an infinite number of instants
that make them who and what they are
is what is at the heart
and what is the true essence
of what poetry, to me, is all about…
the best poetry comes from the heart of a poet
who feels a moment of time and an experience
so deeply and so profoundly
that it can only be expressed as a rhapsody.

My Poem ‘Thirty-six’

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

So much has changed,
so much is different…
I still have the same name,
I still live in the same place,
and for the most part
I still have the same face –
but I am not the boy who I once was…
and, as I always do at this time of the year,
I am wondering to myself,
as I stare at my own reflection:
what about me has changed the most?

These days, I have brown hair –
where as when I was a child I was a natural-blond…
these days, I take journeys to many places on my own –
where as when I was a boy growing up in my village
the furthest away from home that I went
was down to the end of the road
and to the nearest duck-pond…
these days, I spend hours dreaming up new stories
and making up adventures for complex characters –
where as when I was a boy, I… I…
to be honest, I pretty-much did exactly the same thing –
but these days when I write something
usually I am writing from the experience
of having been through and having seen so much.

I have always asked questions…
I have always looked for the meaning of things…
I have always lived my life without feeling
burdened by other people’s expectations…
I have always looked up to the sky –
at the stars at night,
or to the blue-sky of a Summer’s day –
and I have always been awestruck by what I saw,
because every time I look up I am inspired,
and what follows is always breathtaking.

All life is about change,
about transformation, and about transition…
everyone’s life begins in the same way,
and from the day that we are born
we are all on our way
to the same destination…
all my life, my parents have been there for me
and they have given me more than a son
could ever ask for –
every day, my Mum and Dad are with me
and it is because of them that I am so blessed…
when I was a boy, I said a prayer and I made a wish:
I prayed to God that I would find my purpose,
and that while searching for the meaning of my life
I would find love and happiness…
now, I am an adult –
and, as I look around myself and at my life,
I can say with all my heart
that all my wishes and prayers have come true…
I can honestly say that my life has been one
that I would never have wanted to miss –
even knowing all that I have seen and been through,
I feel loved, and truly blessed to be who I am
and to have done all that I have done…
and I am still only 36.

My Poem ‘School Friends’

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

Throughout the years
that we spend in attendance at school,
we have certain friends
with whom we hang-out
and sit down to have our lunch with –
however, when we fast-forward
to the present day and to the life
that we are now live,
how many of those same people,
those same friends,
do we all still know,
still talk to, or ever sit down
to have a meal with?
If I were to make a wild-guess,
based on my own experience,
then I would say not one,
or very few at-all-
which, to me, is a sad thing to think about
when you think back and your remember
some of the enjoyable and the fun times
that you might have shared
with your best school-friends.

It is natural for people
who once spent a great deal
of their time together
to slowly drift-apart
and become distant with one-another,
sometimes in every sense of the word…
life, like time, like a river,
runs in one direction –
the choices that we make
can see us doing things
that when we were children
we would have only thought of as
things that were beyond our wildest-dreams:
diving with sharks deep below the waves of the sea…
having adventures in rain-forests…
seeing the spectacular Northern-Lights…
or, perhaps, packing-up all your belongings
and making a new home on the other-side of the world?

We all grow up with people…
we all meet people over the course of our lives…
we all think that when we are a child
that the fun times will never come to an end…
we all had good days and bad days
when we were at school…
we all have memories from when we were kids
of memorable mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights –
but, unfortunately, sometimes we all have to grow up,
grow from within, and we all have to make a leap
into an unknown world –
however, even though we all must move on in life,
find new things, and meet new people,
that does not mean that we should ever
have to forget who we went to school with…
who, no matter where they are now,
we will always remember them
as being our one of a kind
school friends.

My Poem ‘Finding Serenity’

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

I once followed the light of a Firefly,
and when I watched it
until its last second of life
something happened, something amazing…
the light of the Firefly went out,
but then the Firefly was reborn into Serenity –
and now it will live forever in my heart,
and in the hearts of many…
all those who were caught in the Firefly’s wake…
as it flew, as it soared,
as it became something close to people’s heart.

Firefly meant something special,
and it always will…
Firefly was like nothing else
that anybody had ever seen –
because it was unique,
because it was not afraid to be itself,
because it gave us all a vision of something magical:
a world that was shiny and beautiful
filled with different people, from all walks of life,
all working together, who all believe
in the power of the impossible,
and that believing in one-another
is what makes them mighty.

The Firefly continues to fly,
and now it is a star in the night-sky…
Serenity is always there to be found
right where you left it –
like a book on a shelf;
it is so sad to see someone’s spirit
leave this world –
I know that life is precious
and that we are only here for a short time,
but it is the thought that you
will never see the like of certain people again
that hurts the most;
everybody looks for something,
for someone, for some reason,
and what we all seek is out there
waiting for us to find it…
sometimes it can be something
as subtle as a song, an experience, a feeling,
or a verse of poetry…
if you keep going, if you keep looking,
and if you don’t stop believing
that you are going to find
what you are looking for –
then, maybe, you can be like me,
and you can be lucky enough
to have found Serenity.

In memory of Ron Glass

My Poem ‘The Everyman Cinema’

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

The Everyman is ‘old-school’…
the Everyman is like a one of a kind time-piece…
the Everyman is steeped wall-to-wall
and ceiling to floor in the traditions of a time
that to me feel “authentic” and “pure”…
the Everyman feels like a film-lover’s heaven on Earth,
and as soon as I walked through its doors
an amazing feeling overcame me.

Wood-paneled walls; golden lighting;
an inviting and comforting ambiance
that I simply adore because of how much,
even upon first sight, it instantly enthralls;
neon lighting of many colours
that guide you to, in my opinion, the pièce de résistance
that you find in whatever screen you find yourself sitting.

I have been to more cinemas than I can count, in my time…
I have seen more films at cinemas
than I have had Starbucks coffees…
I have had some memorable experiences while at the movies,
and I have had some less than enjoyable experiences…
I have watched every genre of film at the movies,
but there must only be a handful of memories that I remember
more than others, for different reasons –
however mostly because of what they meant to me
and the lasting-impression that they left on me.

I love going to the cinema –
to me going to the cinema
is like following in the footsteps
of those who sort-out entertainment and a show
like you experience when you pay to attend
a dramatic-performance at the theatre;
I truly sit and wait in wonder in the dark
every time I choose to watch a film
I have never seen before,
but there are some venues that add to the magical occasion
of watching a film on a big-screen more –
and to me I think have found the place
where I plan to watch every upcoming film
that I am looking forward to seeing in the future:
somewhere where you sit on comfy sofas to watch your film
and enjoy your popcorn and your refreshments
from the concessions bar –
a place that to me is a talisman to movie-going fan,
and that place is a cinema in Birmingham, in the UK,
called the ‘Everyman’.

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My Poem ‘Walking the line’

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

Literally, figuratively,
physically, emotionally,
I have been walking a line
or two my entire life…
just like Johnny Cash,
near the infamous Nickajack cave
in Tennessee,
I walked the tracks of a railroad-line –
and I can honestly say
that on the beautiful morning in February,
while I was walking alongside the Tennessee river
with the love of my life
and my adoptive family,
I too had what could be called
a “spiritual experience”:
the sky was blue,
the light was golden,
and I felt more alive than I had ever felt –
I was renewed, and I did not even for a second
think to look back over my shoulder,
because all that mattered
were the moments of perfection
that I was living out in nature
and under the life-giving and incredible sun.

Walking any kind of a line
is always when and where
something life-changing begins;
walking down a road that you don’t know
is how you can discover
and learn to embrace something unknown
and completely different;
walking, and not rushing,
is how to savor the beautiful
and the miraculous things about life
that speedsters sometimes miss
because they travel at the speed of lightning;
walking has always been a passion of mine –
and I swear that you haven’t lived
until you have stopped and heard
the breathtaking sound
of the Earth when it sings.

Every day people walk the line of life and death;
every day people walk the line of light and dark;
every day people walk right and left;
every day people walk to live,
and to live they have to walk far;
every day people walk
even though every step may feel like mile;
every day people walk through all weathers;
every day people walk through fire
and must overcome a torrent of trials;
every day people walk and repent
so that one day they can be
welcomed through the gates of heaven.

No matter what demons lie in your past,
you have got to keep walking
even though there may be times
when you don’t feel fine;
no matter what baggage you carry
that you think you can’t let go of,
sometimes you have got to learn
to let go of what you don’t need anymore,
and don’t look too longingly
at the light of the past
because before too long it may make you blind;
you haven’t lived in this life
if you haven’t at some point or another
been asked to pick a side;
there is no one alive
who hasn’t had to walk away from something
so that they to walk towards something –
no matter what, no matter the time,
everybody in their life
has got to walk the line.

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