extraordinary

My Poem “Miraculous and Extraordinary”

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

All around the world,
today is the holy day of Easter Sunday…
today is the day which is remembered,
revered, and is considered remarkable by many,
because it is said that on the same day
two thousand years ago
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was resurrected
and is said to have ascended;
and Easter Sunday is also the day
when those in the Northern Hemisphere
celebrate the beginning of spring,
and for centuries people have
gathered together and feasted
in honour of the Germanic
goddess of the dawn Δ’ostre –
and it is the symbols associated
with her worship where we get
our modern customs of owning rabbits
as well as the buying and the giving
of chocolate eggs to one another.

Today is an Easter and a Sunday
that many of us will remember
for many years, for many reasons –
just as people will always remember the Easter
that we all had to endure
at this same time last year,
when the vast majority of the population
of humanity had to start living
seemingly in bubbles of isolation
away from family, friends, and co-workers;
and a year on, the world is still trying
to find a way through to the other side
of this pandemonious world wide disaster –
but everywhere that I look
around the world there are
reasons to be hopeful and optimistic
that by this time next year
we will have found a way to adapt to,
get past, and resist the worst of
what is left of what we may
always have to live with.

Today is Easter Sunday
and to be honest I can think of
no better day to be truly grateful
for what each of us have
and who each of us have in our lives –
because each of us over the past year
have had to witness people
from all walks of life having to make
sacrifices
and changes to their life from which
there will never be a way back;
but what we never change for some people
is their ability to never stop believing
that with patience and time
the restrictions on livelihoods will end
and all people who are able
will once again be free –
and if there is anything that daily
impresses me about humanity it would have to be
how some people can keep going,
how some people can keep believing,
how some people can keep
keeping the faith, no matter what –
which, to me, is a supernatural power
that is both miraculous and extraordinary.

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Happy Birthday to “The Wolf In Me”

Mark Hastings books, life, me, Poetry, Short-story , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s been four years since my first novel “The Wolf In Me” was published! Wow! I can’t believe how time moves so fast! “The Wolf In Me” was my first book to feature my character Olivia Hunter, which I subsequently wrote a sequel to and got published via my great publisher Zeloo Media, in 2019 called “The Wolf In You”.

I consider both “The Wolf In Me” and “The Wolf In You” as Volume One and Volume Two in the extraordinary and supernatural story of Olivia Hunter and I still love and look back fondly on the journey of discovery that I took with the character of Olivia Hunter in both of those books.

Happy Birthday to “The Wolf In Me”! πŸ˜ŠπŸΊπŸ“–πŸ“šβœ’πŸ“

My Poem “Multicolored”

Mark Hastings life, music, Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Everybody is an individual,
a person, a spectrum of many colours
throughout their life…
no one can help what body they are born into…
everybody constantly hopes to be able
to one day express themselves
in the way that they want to
without feeling abnormal and as if
who they are on the outside
is not meant to fit in with
how the world is, how it is meant to be,
and how it is meant to look…
no one has the right to be able
to tell anyone that they cannot
be who and what they want to be.

Music is life, life is music –
and people in all their many colours
and with all their individualistic
facets are who make the music of life
as rich as it is, and without all
the many pioneers of individualism
and the proponents of staying true
to what you believe
then the world as we know it would not exist.

The best of humanity, the icons of history
who will be revered forever,
the ground-breakers who knew
even before they learned how to talk
that they were special, different,
anomalous, and exceptional
because they saw the world
and the question posed to them
without the jadedness of a dark cloud
of preconceptions hanging over them –
they are the ones who have always been
responsible for giving our world
the gift of pure inspiration,
ingenuity, and innovation
in the many levels of every day life
that different people live upon.

The best stories ever written
are of extraordinary people
overcoming a stereotypical boundary
that ultimately leads everybody
who learns of their story
to be inspired and choose to emulate them
and follow in their footsteps…
I believe that if you are someone
who is “different” from everybody else
then you should feel proud…
monsters, trolls, and bullies are different
and they are treated differently –
which is why people who suffer
from being singled out
often plague others with the same toxicity
as they are daily exposed to.

In my opinion, if you are different
from everybody else then
you truly are “special”
in every sense of the word –
and I have always believed that
when you embrace you own
individual eccentricities
then you may find that you share
more with other people around the world
who already know who and what they are
and who choose to let the light of their
multicolored soul shine like
the constituents of depth
that give light to a star.

My Poem “38”

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

Today I am 38 years-old…
today, like every day,
every month, every year,
as I have got older,
I always look back over my shoulder –
even it is only for an instant –
and I take a good, long, look
at myself and I recall what I have done,
where I have been, and all that I have seen.

Ever since I was a child
I have always known how lucky I was
to have been born when, where,
and to whom I was born –
the home that I have always known,
and the parents who have never
stopped loving me and have
never stopped being proud of me…
today is my birthday,
and this year – more than any other,
I feel so lucky to have what I have,
and more importantly I feel so lucky to have
who I have in my life,
and I feel so lucky to share my life
with who I love the most in the entire world.

Every year, around this same time of the year,
I always wonder whether my life
would be better if I had made
different decisions and other choices
at certain points in my life –
and, every time I do,
I ultimately come back to the unshakable
and unwavering realization that I am
who I am meant to be
and my life is what it is meant to be;
however, that does not mean
that there aren’t things
that I wish I could change
with the snap of a finger if I had the power.

I know more about myself
than I knew five years ago…
I know so much more about life and people
than I did ten years ago…
I know more about my destiny and my life’s purpose
than I did twenty years ago;
however, I believe, even from the moment
that I was delivered into the light of this world,
that the path that I have been walking
all my life was already right in front of me,
and that along the way it only took
the strength of determination,
the courage, and the fearlessness
that I have been blessed with
by many people in my life
to contribute to my understanding
and my appreciation of what makes
a life lived to its potential so great,
and in life there are definitely times
when it is fun to just go with the flow
and see where it takes you –
because if you are lucky
then you might find yourself one day
far away from home and staring into the eyes
and within the embrace of an angel.

Life is short, and sometimes
you have to do things
and you have to experience things
before it is too late
and there is no time
left to do and to see
all of the amazing
and extraordinary things
that life has in store –
that is what I believe,
and that is what I know for sure,
and that is the culmination
of all of my knowledge
and all my experiences
that I have acquired
from every hour, every day,
every month, every year, prior to today,
when I turn 38 years-old.

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 “Extraordinary Love”

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

I can’t get enough of our extraordinary love…
I can’t stop the thoughts that I am always thinking…
I can’t stop my heart that is constantly beating…
I can’t stop dreaming night and day
about the love that I am always feeling…
I can’t stop looking at your breathtaking face
and telling you that you are so beautiful…
no one in my life had given me
all I had ever wanted before I met you, Melissa…
when I first saw you I was instantly changed
in so many ways because I instantly felt
a love like I had never known before…
all I ever want is to make you as happy as you make me
and I would do anything to give you
what I know your heart beats for…
every day I just want to show you
and to tell you how much you mean to me,
and how truly, madly, and deeply in love with you I am
and how much you complete me –
because I believe that I am meant for you
and that you are meant for me…
you and I are always going to be one and the same,
every day blessing one another
like a guardian angel sent from heaven above –
because you and I have got an extraordinary love.

My Poem ‘The Wolverine’

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

They call me ‘The Wolverine’;
as wild on the inside
as I am on the outside;
I am both the dreamer
and the dream;
as strong in body
as I am in mind,
and just like an animal
who lives by their instincts
I live a life pushed to its limits.

I may heal fast, but I never forget;
I may remember the past,
but I am not bound by it;
the world may get dark,
but I can always see a light;
I may not be like a dog with a bark,
but I do have a bite.

I can be both the leader and the follower;
I can be both alone and in a crowd;
I can be both a wanderer and a watcher;
I can be both at home surrounded by nature,
or in the sky far above the clouds.

All wild things have claws;
all fighters sometimes are called to war;
all survivors sometimes have to dig deep;
all who eventually learn how to swim
sometimes have to sink beneath.

Confidence without arrogance;
wise, but still able to listen;
strength without losing breath;
having vision,
but still able to adapt and act
after being struck by inspiration.

The wild one can also be the quiet one;
the person can sometimes be
more dangerous than the weapon;
the vivid can also be the invisible;
the real can sometimes be the most impossible;
the protected can also be the free;
the most extraordinary can accomplish
all that they can imagine,
and there is no one who will ever stop
being who they were meant to be
more so than The Wolverine.

My Poem ‘The Ember days’

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

There are days in the year
when so many of us gather together;
there are days when we meet up
with our family and friends
and reminisce and tell stories,
as if we are all basking
in the glow of everything
while sitting around a camp-fire;
there are days when we happily
give gifts to each other;
there are days when we are held,
and we hold the thing
that truly matters in life,
and share love and feel love –
like holding, without fear of being burned,
a glowing red-hot ember.

There are days of the year
when the energy-level is extraordinary;
there are days when every hour
is a treat as sweet as chocolate;
there are days of the year
when you can look around
and truly take-in just how lucky you are,
and remember the glory days of your life-story;
there are days which are too important
to ever be forgotten.

There are days that are significant to us,
because the anniversary of a particular day –
where we were, with whom,
and what emotions were stirred
and what memories were eternally made;
there are days that can come to define our entire lives
in special and magical ways;
there are days when our internal spirit
rises up and overflows out of us
and we show a side of us
that leaves people in a daze;
there are days when words are just not enough
to say what you want to say.

Every day of our year
is about remembering the days
and the times that were,
and continuing traditions of connection
so that we may realize time and time again
that each and every one of us
only has one chance of making our lives
the way we want it to be;
days soon become months,
months soon become years –
however, our lives are timeless;
and even if every day isn’t light and bright,
filled with gifts, presents,
smiles, flowers, and candy,
there is always something there for us to take with us,
and there are always lights in the dark for us
to look at like the illuminations of a Christmas tree.

Never forget the people you have known;
never forget the people who would
never knowingly leave you alone;
never forget the happiness you felt
that continues to live on deep inside you
that you will take with you to the grave;
never forget the days of light and celebration
that will continue to blaze throughout your life,
and bring you back always to the ember days.

My Poem ‘Here be dragons’

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

Legends of dragons
populate and inflame
epics, stories, myths, and traditions,
throughout the world, and have done so for centuries;
dragons of every shape, size, and colour,
have took flight in tales,
and have been imagined in a myriad of ways
by some of Earth’s greatest storytellers of fantasy;
and the characteristic gift of the fire
that a dragon can produce
is something wonderful
that has always fascinated me.

Ever since I was a young boy,
I have known about dragons,
read books that had dragons, or a dragon,
as a character important to the plot of a story,
and I have watched dragons be brought to life,
and I have to say that not for a moment
have I ever felt any sort of fear
at the thought of such a fantastic creature
that perfectly symbolizes a world of magic,
mythology, sorcery, and other-worldly
wonderful creations, that burn in our imaginations,
and allow our ideas of the possible and the impossible
to be eclipsed by the veil
of something and somewhere extraordinary.

Dragons are characterized as spellbinding,
unstoppable, fierce, arrogant,
but also blessed with extreme intelligence,
in almost every story they have been featured in,
and their presence is not one
that should ever be underestimated.
There are many reasons as to why dragons
are still a very important symbol in many cultures,
and there are incredible works of art
that have been created depicting dragons
for thousands of years – and to this day,
the thought and the image of a dragon
is one that will forever resonate.

Every country has written its own literature of dragons,
and many heroes in such heroic and epic tales
of phenomenal bravery have seen the defeat
and the slaying of a dragon as the intended end-result
and the defining act of a quest;
some stories paint dragons as a sign of luck, wealth,
strength, the universe, existence, importance,
pride, and magnificence;
many dragons have been given names,
and their identities are known to more people
than at first might be guessed;
even on maps that were drawn to show
the cartography of the world, as it was thought to appear,
in the places on those maps that were still unexplored,
and may potentially be dangerous,
they had written on them for all the world to read:
“here be dragons”.

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