expression

My Poem ‘The Burning Man’

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

What symbolizes life more than a candle?
What symbolizes a person’s soul more than a flame?
What symbolizes that which is precious
but that which is also hard to handle?
What symbolizes that which no one,
no matter how powerful they are, can tame?

Fire. Burning. Creation, and destruction.
The end, as well as the beginning of something new.
Just as a fire will continue to rage
as long as it has fuel –
an artist… a reveler… a person inspired
and who embraces life’s limitless opportunities
to express themselves see powerful images,
like that of a “burning man” –
as if they are also gasoline
to the spark that resides
within their mind and in their heart;
just like a band of many, performing as-one,
a harmony and a synchronicity of destiny
binds everybody together –
so much so that they create
their own gravitational-pull.

In the heat of a desert…
in the dry air of a forest…
in the most desperately-remote places on Earth…
within the beat of a person’s heart
crescendoing in their chest…
sometimes a seemingly-spontaneous wildfire
can spark into life…
sometimes amazing things can happen
when the conditions are “just-right”…
sometimes the gift and the act of free-will
can give rise to an instinctive
visceral expression of natural art.

Life is a shared-experience…
some people’s life, light, flame, and fire,
burns brighter and for longer –
but everybody who lives any life at-all
burns with a purpose…
everybody is a stranger to each-other
until they introduce themselves to one-another…
everybody is on a mission of self-discovery –
but the most important thing
to look back upon your life
and be proud of is all the times
when you walked together with someone
in mutual-participation and cooperation,
guided by a feeling and without a firm-plan;
there have been many examples throughout human history
of what happens when you bring together
people and nature and you let them be
and you let them burn and commune
for a short time with one-another,
and there is no better festival of life
that takes place every year
that is a symbol of the constant burning spirit
of a person’s spirit more so than ‘Burning Man’.

My Poem ‘Heart of a Mustang’

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

When my pen drops to the page
there are times when I have no idea
what I am going to write;
when we take the first steps of many
we often do not know
where the path we will walk will lead,
but we know that what we are doing feels right;
when a moment of spontaneous inspiration hits me
it is often by surprise;
when something is worth doing
it is always worth opening your eyes to do it,
even if the time is a long time before sunrise.

Some things come naturally;
some things come over time;
some things appear as if magically;
some things roll off the tongue
like a memorable riddle or rhyme.

Life is mostly organized these days –
however, there are times
when the world is as wild
as the wild-west of America ever was,
perhaps now even more so;
people are mostly civilized these days –
however, there are times
when there is an imbalance in a society
that shows itself in everything that you see
no matter where you go;
life on our planet
is for the first time in human history
in the hands of those who hold the keys
to the tumblers of wealth and power
that control our destiny;
everyone alive today is spoiled in so many ways –
some people look, but do not see;
some people in need
need only to put their hands together and believe.

Some people strive all their lives
to stand out from the crowd;
some people find it hard to be confined
because their heart was born to beat and stay wild;
some people have the greatest gift –
and that, to me, is their way of being heard by many
without having to be loud;
some people have the remarkable ability
to stay calm and make sense in a split-second
what even the most-learned of person
cannot at first understand;
some people have been hoping and praying
and have never given up on the reality
of having the same thing
that has filled their imagination
since they were a child;
some people who wear the expression
of the quiet and the innocent,
in my experience, are keeping hidden
and tamed deep-inside
the feral heart of a mustang.

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My Poem ‘The Bright Side’

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

There is no such thing
as total-darkness;
there will always be
those who have more
and those who have less;
in a dark-blue sky
there is nothing like
the pure white light
of the moon’s crescent
to fill you with awe
and relieve you of any stress.

When the sun rises after a long night,
when the moon appears like a ghost in the sky,
when dawn calls, when dusk falls,
when ocean-waters become a mirror,
when candle wicks burn
and their flames flicker,
when eyes open, when eyes close,
when the world of the day has awoken,
when the aroma of the air
is as distinctive as the smell
after a thunderstorm
or as unmistakable
as the pungency of burnt-toast.

With the first observance of fire
followed a basic understanding
of the human heart,
and what lies and burns
at the core of every living thing;
when humanity first saw lightning,
it must have automatically
occurred to our ancestors
that it must be the energy
and the work of the gods
who dwelled in the sky above;
when the first language of expressions
and signs was first devised
and replicated over and over again,
it must have been phenomenally exciting;
when the first heart ached for another,
that was when humanity first discovered
one of the greatest forces in the universe –
the power of love.

Most people, and most things,
do not get a choice about how and when
their story will come to an end –
every sunset, every sunrise,
could be someone’s last;
over time truly is how and when
you find out who are your true family and friends –
and every day that comes and goes,
and who it is that you see
when you look around yourself,
is when and how you find out
who is your eternal star and sunshine –
and they who will always be the one
to show you life’s
ever-present bright side.

My Poem ‘Koi No Yokan’

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

‘Koi No Yokan’ – Japanese origin:
“The feeling upon meeting someone
that falling in love with them
is inevitable”

The right place, the right time,
the right face, the right light,
the right spirit, the right person,
the right minute, the bright light of the right star
who fills your sky and your life instantly –
a perfect angel, a beautiful sun.

Every lock has its own combination;
until you hear the unmistakable ‘click‘
you cannot know what is locked away inside something;
every look has a shine to it of wonderful fascination;
every mixture of words, thoughts, emotions,
and intentions is its own spell of magic.

Love between two destined
and fatefully connected people is inevitable;
love that is meant to be
is not always instantly understandable and conceivable;
love that grows stronger over time is addictive,
intoxicating, and incredible;
love that is timeless can never dim
nor become any less intense,
because such love is indescribable
and worth fighting every day for.

Love can be shown;
love can be expressed;
love can be said in many different ways
in every language all over the world;
love is more than any simple word;
love is a question; love is an answer;
love is a meaning; love between two soulmates
is rejuvenating and healing;
love is its best when it is instant,
natural, and it comes into your life
and never leaves –
because if it were to run away
you would never stop feeling
within your heart and your soul
as if something were missing.

You may love many things,
you may love many people in your life –
but your one true love
is everlasting beyond compare,
and they are what you think
and dream about from morning to night;
you may meet someone
and instantly feel a connection with them,
as if you have known them for years –
and that feeling is so unbelievable,
and it means so much,
that no matter where you go,
being together and loving one-another
with all your heart
is not only beautiful to behold
like a beautiful perennial flower,
but it is also the most amazing miracle
that will ever happen to you in your life,
and from day one is indescribably inevitable.

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 ‘Two for Joy’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Trust and connection,

familiarity and intimacy,

understanding and love,

that incredible and amazing feeling

that makes you so happy.


A look, a smile, a sound, a laugh,

a shared energy of meaning and identity,

that stimulates a feeling

of fluttering butterflies within your heart;

a shared song, a duet, a pairing and an enlightening

of the best of each other that you yearn to feel

and want to show and share with everyone

watching both near and far away;

a poem inspired to be written

in the same way that the melody of a song

needs to be played.


Glances, kisses, touch,

timeless love that makes you feel lost;

when you know that you have found your One,

nothing and no one else matters,

because to you what they mean to you

is as precious and as phenomenal

as interstellar dust;

they are your world,

they are your life,

they are a part of your soul,

they are your light.


I have always believed

that true love is like a force of nature;

while gravity pulls you down,

love lifts you up;

I have never wanted

and I have never been able to keep

my feelings from bubbling over;

while you are worrying about what may

or what may not happen,

there is a divine dance

and a biological transition taking place –

that is quietly magnifying

and setting into motion

the opening of a stream

and a waterfall of extreme emotional expression,

that will make every part of you

feel even more addicted, obsessed, and in love.


When you are one,

you can feel sorrow;

when you are one of two,

there are things about you

that you only want the One you love to know;

when you are up at night,

or waking up first thing in the morning,

when you are in love

there is only one face and one voice

who you want to see and hear

with your eyes, with your ears, in your mind –

because they always have the rejuvenating power

to sustain and keep you alive

and protected from ever being destroyed;

when you see two people together as a couple,

or when you see a male and a female bird,

or any pairing of two animals

who adore each other

and who want to be with each other,

think of the one that you love

who means the most to you,

and remember the first line

of that memorable rhyme:

“One for sorrow, two for joy…”

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The First Impression’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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The first impression

is always the most important;

the way that you present yourself

speaks volumes about how important

something is to you;

the first word that you speak

echoes and forever stands out;

the old saying that you can tell a lot

about someone just by watching

and noticing how someone walks in their shoes,

and what someone’s choice of footwear

can tell you about someone,

is absolutely true;

the first of anything

sets the standard for everything to follow;

the first expression can have as much impact

as a burst of light from the sun;

the first message is often forgotten –

however, if and when reread,

that same first chain of words,

at the end of everything,

always resurfaces and means the most;

the first signs, the first icons,

can imprint more meaning, more feeling,

and they can be a source of constant hope,

like the always recognizable symbol of love.


Meeting someone you love,

meeting someone you care for and adore,

meeting someone you have never met before for the first time,

meeting and greeting someone at your front door,

is one of the best things that will ever happen to you –

especially, because the more instant

and unexpected that first meeting is

it can speed up your thoughts

and your heart-rate so fast that

that first view can change you.


Love at first sight is true,

it exists, and it is not simply a myth

invented by romantics;

the first exposure to anything,

especially at a young age,

will inform a great many

of your important life-decisions;

the first reaction that you have to something

can sometimes be deceptive –

but the look that someone gives you with their eyes

can be as rhythmic as a song-lyric;

and just as everybody follows one kind

and one type of a fashion,

so too does everything grow

from that very important first impression.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The Rhyme of the Constant Writer’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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There once was a writer called Mark,

who, more than anyone,

loved a walk through a beautiful park;

he wrote all-day, everyday;

and when he wasn’t writing, he was thinking;

who could write an entire short story

about the memory of a beautiful Summer’s day,

or a sonnet with thirteen lines

that perfectly and succinctly

expresses exactly what he was feeling.

When he was not doing his job,

Mark would write poems –

even when, and especially when,

he was in a library,

or walking around a bookshop,

Mark would have so many thoughts

and ideas running through his mind,

he had to write them down anywhere he could,

as fast as he could,

before they left him again.

To this day, Mark still wonders and marvels

at how inspired he is,

almost every second of every day –

and where all the inspiration he uses comes from,

not even Mark truly knows.


Mark was a writer who had his favourite things

that sparked his creativity,

and like most writers, and like most people,

Mark had his own unique routines;

Mark just loved creating and writing

all kinds of stories, and even as a boy

Mark was imagining places

where he had not yet been.

It was a preoccupation for Mark

to look around and ask questions,

and to make connections;

being in his own world

was where Mark felt the most comfortable,

because he could make something amazing

and magical in his mind,

and be a true master of invention.


Mark was someone who went somewhere everyday

to chase the light and answer the call of inspiration;

every morning when he woke up,

Mark would look out of his bedroom window

and be so enthralled by what he saw –

everyday it was like waking up in another dimension.

Mark regularly sat down with his favourite

caramel-coated coffee,

and a slice of lemon cake,

and would spend hours writing poetry,

and feel like he was still dreaming

even when he was still wide awake.


Mark was a writer who loved being a writer,

but Mark was also someone who loved

watching films at the cinema;

Mark loved books, and must have read over a hundred;

Mark was someone who never had a moment

when his mind was not, in some form or another, in over-drive –

even as he was drifting off to sleep

in the dark in bed at night.


Mark listened, Mark heard;

Mark observed, Mark learned;

Mark was a peace-maker,

but Mark was also a fighter;

Mark was at his happiest,

and at his most inspired,

when he had a pen in his hand

hovering over his notebook,

and writing the rhyme of the constant writer.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Voilà!’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Have you ever thought about something,

and then there it was?

Have you ever thought about someone,

and then there they were?

Have you ever asked a question,

and then got an answer?

Have you ever seen something,

and thought to yourself:

“nothing could ever be better than this”?


I have always liked

the magic of the “spur of the moment”;

I have always loved

the illusionist’s favourite trick

of “now you see me, now you don’t”;

I have always longed

to be a man of surprise;

I have always made the most of every moment

that has filled my eyes.


The gift to spontaneously create something

is unbelievably amazing, to me;

the ability to be able

to make something out of practically nothing,

is like a verse right out of nature’s

magic book of poetry;

the imagination that shows itself in a piece of art,

is as phenomenal to see and to witness

as the expression of a random thought.


A magician would not be as entrancing

if he did not have the most amazing sense of timing;

a chef would not be the best they could be

if they did not know, and have an instinct,

about what ingredients go with what;

a musician with a natural talent

might need to the learn the art of refinement,

however they do not need to go through

too much intense training;

a true creative person

can do anything with whatever they have got.


I have seen the most amazing sights

when I had no expectation of seeing anything exciting;

I have heard a piece of music that has moved me –

from the strings being played by a stranger,

who plays as if they were born

holding and plucking the cords of a guitar;

I have felt enlightenment

that felt like being struck by lightning;

I have had my own moments of reveal;

and I love being there whenever there is an instance

when someone can show their magic,

and have their moment of voilà!

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Your Thing’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Whether its writing, or dancing,

reading, or believing,

capturing, or speaking,

photographing, or modeling,

driving, or treating,

walking, or exploring,

making, or faking,

acting, or searching,

mixing, or fixing,

painting, or crafting,

counting, or adjusting,

growing, or assisting,

building, or remembering,

caring, or sharing,

copying, or exercising,

thinking, or feeling,

moving, or playing,

watching, or listening,

whoever you are, whatever you do,

we all have something that we do

that is close to our heart,

and something that is

as much of your soul and your identity,

that will always be a part of you.


Some of the most important things to know about us

are hidden from view, most of the time;

we all wear a mask

that covers our secret thoughts and feelings;

some of the things that spend their life

tentatively waiting to show themselves,

sometimes appear unexpectedly;

no matter how passive we are most of the time,

we all do our share of relating

to the things about other people

that are not exactly the things

that we would say define or describe us;

however, I always find the discover of something

new about someone I thought I knew,

that sometimes comes out of the blue,

enlightening and inspiring;

and a new question is always a mystery

I cannot ever decline.


Whether you sing,

or whether you express yourself in another way;

whether you are comfortable in the limelight,

or perhaps never like being the centre of attention;

whether your perfect day is being with your friends,

spending time with your family,

or spending some time on your own;

what emanates from you subconsciously,

and what you see as the best, and the most amazing,

is something that,

no matter what anyone else says or thinks,

is fantastic, and if it makes you happy

then that is amazing.

Do what you know;

know what you do;

keep going where you go,

and don’t stop doing your thing.