Upon returning from
the land beyond the horizon,
the man in black -
almost blinded by the light
that he raced towards
because it promised answers
he had sought all his life -
walked upon the golden fields of his home;
however, he found himself unable to find the words
to describe what he had seen while he was away -
but he knew one thing for certain:
life, nor the world, ends when,
nor where, you think it does…
upon returning to the place he used to know
more than anywhere on Earth,
the man in black had to attempt to make himself
remember who he was before
he had untaken the journey he chose to make
after feeling as if his connection with the world
had somehow been lost…
after losing himself within the shadows
that lie behind the curtain of the universe,
beyond the light of a sunset,
the man in black had been taken
to somewhere that seemed to exist beyond
time and space, beyond identity,
and a place of infinity and energy
that was tempting to stay within;
however, after hearing the call
of duty and familiarity,
the man in black chose to return
to the world of chaos and disorder
seemingly the same instant that he had left -
after spending what felt like an eternity
in another reality that was what
he had been searching for all his life.
He had not felt for so long -
not since he had been broken and scarred
by the loss of his father and his hero some years before -
but upon his return from the place
he felt he had to make the decision to go to,
the man in black immediately found himself alone
as the sun shone down upon him
and glistened in the dark glass that covered his eyes
from the light that he had not been used to
for what seemed like forever
but in actuality had only been
a matter of hours, and no more…
he had lost his voice, lost his muse,
lost the inspiration that once brought him
and his artistry to life on multiple occasions,
and he also feared that he had left
something of himself in the other place he had visited -
a place that felt like his version of paradise -
and that was what made him hope and pray
that he had not made the wrong decision
to return to the world he was born into.
The man in black immediately found himself
in a state of shock and despair,
and so much so that he fell to the ground
and called out within his mind for someone
or something to once again give him
a calling and direction to go;
however, the only presence he felt
and the only voice he heard
was that of himself -
perhaps a version of him from
another time or a parallel universe -
and it was him, or they, who told the man in black
to rise to his feet and proceed upon the path before him,
because he was told “he had much still to do”…
the man in black questioned himself,
and the voice that sounded like his own for a moment,
before he stood up and looked ahead
to the horizon before him,
and once again he walked calmly,
confidently, and defiantly towards his future;
however, the man in black now felt
like someone or something else -
as if he had been struck by a moment
of silence and revelation
and it was now clear to him that it did not matter
who he was, because his actions meant more than anything else -
which is why he did not fear feeling
how he felt, and would undoubtedly feel
for the rest of his life:
like he was a stranger, even to himself.
fantasy
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
‘The Wolf In Us’ by Mark Hastings – Chapter Six: “The Dream of the Wolf” – part 4
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.
