My Poem “The Story That Did Not Want to End”

Once upon a time, I wrote a story…
once upon a time, I thought that the story I wrote –
the first original tale I attempted to tell –
had been written and had been told…
once upon a time, I put what was once a short story
away and did not share it with anyone;
but then, one day, almost ten years
after writing my first story, I started to wonder
whether I had saved my story for a reason,
and whether there was more to my story
than even I knew there could be…
once upon a time, I wrote about two best friends
who went their separate ways
but who one day found themselves back together –
both with their own stories
of their own individual experiences –
who discover that though life has taken them both
on somewhat of a rollercoaster of emotions,
some things will never change, including:
who they are and what they mean to one another…
once upon a time, what was once a short story
was rediscovered by its author
and made the first chapter in a story
that would take its characters to places
that they could not have been taken to ten years before –
because the author had not yet seen what they had seen,
nor had they done what they had done,
and because the story could not be
what it was always meant to be.

Where does a story begin?
Where does a story end?
Every time a story is told
it always starts differently –
even if the words look the same
and sound the same,
every story changes depending upon
who is telling the story
and who is engaging with it…
when every story begins
it asks of its audience to believe
that it happened, or could happen,
exactly as they are told it did happen,
or would happen;
however, every story is always retold
as if whomever was telling the story in question
was there when everything played out
and they are confident that the story
they are sharing is true to what they heard –
even though we all know that sometimes
stories seem to take on a life of their own
and go on their own journey of translation
and reinterpretation,
like every piece of art goes through.

It’s not uncommon for the original artist
of a work of art to be forgotten,
or misremembered,
because so many reproductions and remixes
have been made by others who were
influenced and inspired by something
that they wanted to emulate the feeling of
that they had when they first encountered it…
it’s not uncommon for someone to prefer
what they saw, heard, or read, first
over what was created afterwards –
but sometimes what follows
as a result of something else
still merits to be taken notice of,
because though the first of anything
is where and when the spark of creativity will always reside,
sequels and continuations of a story
always have something to say about
why they were made and how they connect
to what they were inspired by –
and sometimes there are stories like my first story –
that took almost ten years to become
what it ultimately became –
that were begun for a reason
and were not intended to be truly “finished”,
because some characters and some tales
are stories that have had to be abandoned,
because the truth is that no story
ever wants to come to an end.

Vega – The Vampire King – republished

Get your copy of the new republished, hardback, version of my book ‘Vega – The Vampire King’!

Originally published in 2021, ‘Vega – The Vampire King’ is the backstory of Vega, “The Vampire King”, who was first introduced in my book ‘The Wolf in You’, and essentially tells the tale of his origin story: where he came from, who he was, what he has had to live through, and how he ultimately became the leader of all the vampires on Earth.

Within ‘Vega – The Vampire King’, you discover that Vega has been who and what he is for a long time, and over the centuries he has encountered several other supernatural individuals – including some characters who I have written about and who have connections to other characters within my other books, namely: Olivia Hunter.

Vega – The Vampire King’ is a prequel, a sequel, as well as somewhat of a parallel story to the events my book ‘The Wolf in You’ and gives Vega’s perspective on his relationship and his love of Olivia Hunter – what lead him to her, what he did to protect her, and how and why he fell in love with her.

Vega – The Vampire King’ is essential reading if you have read my book ‘The Wolf and The Vampire’ and you want to learn more about someone who is not like any other vampire you may have read about or heard of before – because, even to those who may have heard of him, Vega, in many ways, is an enigma and a mystery, as are the best and the most interesting of characters.

You can get your copy of the new hardcover version of ‘Vega – The Vampire King’, featuring a brand new cover artwork, on Amazon now!

Playing God – republished

Get your copy of the new hardback version of my book ‘Playing God’!

Playing God’ is a book of “Seven stories. Seven perspectives. Seven experiences. Seven morality tales of one immortal Rebel, Hero, Friend, Fan, Father, Son, Playing God” – which was originally published in 2018.

This new hardback version of ‘Playing God’ features a new front-cover artwork, depicting the main protagonist and character of each of the seven stories – the enigmatic “Man in Black”, and sometimes “Man in White”.

The stories of ‘Playing God’, and the character of the powerful and mysterious “Man in Black” and his interactions with those he meets, are some of the most compelling and inspiring tales I have written, and I often think about them and what they personally mean to me.

And I also have to mention that ‘Playing God’, its stories, and the character of the “Man in Black”, is dedicated to, and was inspired by, the late, great, David Bowie.

You can get your copy of the new hardcover version of ‘Playing God’ from Amazon now!

-Mark

“Scales and George” (2015) by Mark Hastings

In this episode, Mark recites his short story/poem “Scales & George” from his 2015 short story/poetry collection ‘Too Close To The Sun’.

‘The Wolf In Us’ by Mark Hastings – Chapter Six: “The Dream of the Wolf” – part 4

In this episode, Mark recites part 4 of Chapter Six of his 2022 novel ‘The Wolf In Us’: “The Dream of the Wolf”. The sequel to his books ‘The Wolf In Me’, ‘The Wolf In You’, and ‘Vega – The Vampire King’. The story of Olivia Hunter continues. The tale of The Wolf deepens. The Vampire King makes a discovery. Revelations are revealed. Connections are made. Tragedy and trauma leave unseen scars. Reflections come to light. Realisations are realised. Life and death, dreams and love, provide an answer to the question: What is The Wolf In Us? You can read Mark’s poetry on his website http://MarkThePoet.Me, and you can purchase all of Mark’s books of poetry, short-story anthologies, and novellas on Amazon: https://amzn.to/3HjAJMC

My Poem “Escapism”

Reality is tangible, and yet there are times
when reality can feel absolutely unbelievable…
the real world is sometimes managible,
the real world is sometimes even palatable –
but occasionally the “real world” can
at times feel too much to handle.

Reality is physical and undoubtedly
it can at times feel painful…
the real world, the outside world,
is where things get done,
where progress is made,
where we get to look people in the eye,
where we get to share a smile,
where we get to experience things
that are grounded in nature –
but the real world is also where
the weight of certain things
upon our emotions and upon
our thoughts and upon our dreams
can sometimes make us all feel fragile.

Reality is life – but every so often
everybody needs a dose of something
that they have never seen before,
or perhaps something that they
may have seen over and over again…
everybody needs a vision of a life
and of a world unlike the one
that they are daily familiar with…
everybody needs to have this place,
this time, those moments,
those out of body experiences
when they get let their imagination
run wild so that it can play along with all
of the fantastic possibilities of creativity
that they see – which may not be
a true reflection of the everyday world,
but which are always considered to be
a source of hope to help people cope
and to get some much needed escapism.

My Poem “1984/2020”

Forget George Orwell’s “1984”,
because the year 2020 is a story
that we who are alive now
will never forget and hopefully
we will never have to live through
such a year again – because living
in this present time
is like living in a dark reality
the like of which could never
have been accurately predicted
nor imagined before.

Governments right now are
tracking where we are, where we were,
when we were somewhere in particular,
and who we were within
close proximity to at the time
we were where we were
while doing what we were doing –
so forget about “Big Brother”,
because in real life, in real time,
cameras, satellites, our own
personal mobile devices,
search engines, artificial intelligences,
the eyes of authorities are tracking, tracing, monitoring, and analysing
everybody’s every move and everything that we all say, type, read,
watch, and browse while we are
out and about, and even when we are within that privacy of our own house.

Unfortunately for many
this is year will be remembered
for being full of among other things,
including fear, death, panic, and paranoia;
however I believe that 2020
will also be a year that
will be remembered for being
one in which people thought
about one another,
felt grateful for having one another,
stayed in regular contact with one another,
and when people lived
in hope with one another
while some of the greatest artists
and the greatest medical
and scientific minds
all came together for a common goal
that would unite people like never before.

What no one wants is a time,
a reality, a future that may
have some similarities to a famous,
prescient, George Orwell novel –
however, over time, circumstances
will be influential in rewriting
the book of what it means to be human
and every one us will ultimately have
contributed to the tale of humanity
that generations in the future
will come to know well:
a compelling real life story
of worldwide disease, panic,
surveillance, and control
that may one day rival,
and perhaps eclipse, what was
only supposed to be a cautionary tale
of a dystopian world –
the unforgettable story
featured in the novel that is “1984”;
but the story of 2020 is still
being written, so we will have to
wait and see what the future has in store.

My Poem ‘Blind Curiosity’

When the sun went down
it was like witnessing
a great eye closing…
when the daylight
faded into the darkness of twilight
it was like seeing the world
slowly fall asleep…
when the golden light shone up
instead of down
it was like watching the world
appear to start a journey
towards a state of dreaming…
when the sky was finally devoid of colour
and the stars came out to shine their light
from unfathomable distances away…
I found myself looking,
just above the horizon,
to where the sky meets the ground,
and I was drawn high above and far away,
on a flight of fantasy,
to a place within my own imagination –
but which felt more like a part of a dream
of someone divine who could create
beautiful new worlds
from the moment that they touch
the ocean of infinite dreamers
with the toes of their feet.

I always walk blindly into a dream…
I have no preconceptions
about what I might find
when I start looking deep inside…
I have always wondered
whether we could revisit a dream –
even one that we might have had
when we were children
and after we had been read a bed-time story –
and I wonder if an adult
observing a child’s thoughts
would know instantly what they mean?
I envy the playground
that every child has within their mind –
the scope of a child’s fantasy world has no limit,
and within a child’s imagination
every moment can be the instant
of an infinite number of sunrises.

The evening sky is a magical piece of heavenly art,
as the birds return to their nests,
and as the owls, the foxes, the badgers, the bats,
the wildlife of the night start to appear,
when it is dark so many things happen…
there is so much wonder, thought, love, magic,
and imagination that blooms like a flower
constantly under the light of divinity…
there is so much life in this world,
and most of it thrives at night
when the universe recites its sonnets for us to hear,
and when the dreamers of existence leap with joy
into the realms of blind curiosity.

My Poem ‘The Mermaid’

Before writers started looking
above the clouds and imagining
the wonders of creation
that may live on other worlds,
orbiting around other stars…
before philosophers started dwelling
on the burning questions of human existence…
before any child ever dreamed
about setting foot on another planet…
before rockets, before planes,
before trains, before cars…
before there were countries with governments
led by the will of presidents…
the ancient seven seas of Earth
were believed by many to be
where the most amazing and fantastic,
supernatural and magical,
being and life resided –
and there must have been many
a sea-faring captain of a ship
who must have stayed up all night long
dreaming about capturing
a mythical creature from the ocean depths.

Epic and gigantic monsters…
tentacled behemoths…
giant and colossus monstrosities…
the nightmare characters of those who spent days,
months, even years, battling the forces of nature
over vast expanses of the oceans of the world
hoping to come face to face
with the unseen and the undiscovered…
in the days when and where dragons were thought
to live on the literal edge of the Earth…
gods of all names, sizes and colours, were worshiped
and had monuments erected in their honour…
when the possibility of traveling to another country
on the other side of the world
was so incredible to think of
it could only be the stuff of fantasy…
it was in the days before
the world fought itself in war after war
that everybody believed there was more to be found
than anybody had ever seen before.

Even in this day and age,
even in this decade and century,
we are still discovering life on our planet
that for some reason or another
had remained hidden and secret in seclusion
and were only the spoken or written word
of a story told and retold
by people who claimed to have had
a first-hand close-encounter;
every day something extraordinary
has a light shined upon it
and the knowledge of it actually being
a living-thing is so miraculous
it creates shock-waves;
there is no more powerful reminder
of the infinite possibilities of life
than nature – and there are countless times
when that fact has been abundantly clear;
everywhere you look,
every day around the world,
even today in the 21st century,
we are all surrounded by images
and iconography of myths that still live on –
be they leprechauns, dragons, epic crusades,
or a beautiful green and white mermaid.

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My Poem ‘Thirteen o’clock’

The clock has struck one too many times,
it is now thirteen o’clock,
there is a splinter in my mind,
time itself has stopped,
the past is a fantasy,
the future is an open and wide new country,
reality is broken,
the mirror of reflection has shattered,
I feel like I have awoken
and I am having to call into question
what truly matters.

There is an old riddle
about what you should do
if a clock strikes thirteen,
and the answer to that riddle
is to “get a new clock”;
there are many times in a person’s life
when they have to stand and stop,
look back, look forward,
not knowing where to go and where to turn,
as if in a state of shock;
revelations of ourselves
that occur to us should not be feared,
but they must be questioned;
mistakes are not always a bad thing –
sometimes they can be vital lessons.

There is a legend that says
that if a man hears a clock strike
thirteen times he can save his own life
or someone else’s;
I believe that the thirteenth strike
is when the true picture
of how the world truly is can be seen
by an instant amalgamation
of the fragmented pieces.

Today, right now, for me,
it is thirteen o’clock;
as I remember the road that I have walked and my path,
a shadow shrouds the events of my past as I look back;
it occurs to me that I have been here before,
and that perhaps the thirteenth strike
is the life I have been living within
every second for years;
time and life are like a time-piece,
and they can only function correctly
when going in the right direction –
and for every ‘tick’ there must follow a ‘tock’;
the spin and the orbit of the Earth around the sun
is constant, and I realize that I too
must keep my momentum going and I must
never contently stop.
There is only one way
to know true happiness:
to break free, however you can,
from the everlasting time
of thirteen o’clock.