Once a way has been forged,
once a passage has been traversed,
once steps have been taken
and breadcrumbs have been left,
once a feeling has been captured
and something special has been
preserved is some way -
like “lightning in a bottle” -
the world and people
are never the same again,
because the hand of God,
or the song of The Muse,
has made their intentions clear
that what has been set into motion
must happen and will happen no matter what…
once something has been created,
it’s energy cannot undone -
but what something was in the beginning can,
will, and does, change over time
until what something once was
has become something else,
even beyond the initial spark of its creator…
once you start something you know
from the get go is worth undertaking,
whatever something is meant to be
it will ultimately be -
whether that is a piece of art,
a story, a piece of furniture,
a meal, or perhaps a relationship,
if something is supposed to be
a certain way it will find a way
to influence its manifestation
and become a tangible part of the world…
once a person makes a decision to put pen to paper,
or choose to stop what they have been doing
and make a u-turn back through
where they have been before
but now with a new perspective,
then a new reality that never existed previously
always follows as a result -
like uncorking a bottle of champagne
and watching the force of the bubbles within
explode and stream like the engine of a jet…
once in a while, something unexpected happens
that turns out to be the catalyst
that causes the first of many pulses of light,
heat, inspiration, and intensity
that will only grow brighter, hotter,
bigger, and more overwhelming
the more that they are allowed to grow
beyond the place from which the seed
of what they were was planted,
before whatever something
becomes what it is fated to be…
once you start to think you will never do
what you used to do,
once you start to say that you will never
see someone ever again,
once you start to believe that something
is gone and unable to return to how it used to be,
once you start to wonder whether
you have really seen, heard, tasted,
and felt everything that you ever could,
the one that has one hand
on the steering wheel of the universe
and one foot hovering over both
the break and the accelerator
that dictates the velocity of
what is going to happen and when
will do what they do
and remind us all in big ways and in small ways
why it is always dangerous to
“never say never”.
fate
‘Playing God’ by Mark Hastings (2018) – audio book: The Man in Blue – “Not So Soon” + “My Hero”
My Poem “Ultimate Fate”
Sometimes, the more you think about something and sometimes the longer that you spend obsessing about someone - in retrospect, you can eventually come to discover that could have spent the time that you did pursuing what makes you happy, rather than being held back by those who never truly will... sometimes love can be like a house of cards - and it can take the removal of one card out of many to bring everything crashing down... sometimes, we can find that we are putting more effort into a relationship that our significant partner - and that is when we can come to start hearing the alarm bells ring and start seeing the signs that point to an instability within the balance of the necessary give and take that is essential and should always be mutual... sometimes, we can all easily be deceived into believing a good lie - because we put all our trust in someone who from the moment that we met them made our heart pulse like the lightning of a thunder cloud... there is a reason why some things come easy to some people and there is a reason why some things come harder for others - but just because something is effortless or difficult that does not mean that further effort is not necessary in maintaining the energy and the momentum of something, until a transformation occurs that makes us all naturally reevaluate it... somethings will always change, some people will always remain the same - but no matter how the roll of the dice shakes out, as long as you can say with your hand on your heart that you did your best and you did all you could, then nothing and no one can judge you on something's ultimate fate.
My Poem “The Bad Days”
At twilight hour I throw my hope for the future into the fire, as I look back over my shoulder and I wonder why did it all fall asunder - why did everything fall apart, why did I make the mistakes I made, why did I allow someone to once again capture my heart and take me for an emotional ride to a place from where I now feel disgrace? Maybe this is my penance for something I might have done in a past life? Maybe this is the end that has always awaited me: a pain in the chest that hurts like being stabbed by a knife? It's all my own fault, of course - I know that it is... It's always me who finds himself on the losing side of a game that he was never meant to win. Why does this always happen? Why me? Why now? Why then? I thought today was special, I really did... I thought today was beautiful - but I did not see the demon who was hidden behind the smile of the face I thought I knew so well but who in truth was the face of a witch. As evening becomes night I look at the glowing light in front of me and I hope and I pray that I will be saved from the pain of yesterday - because I do not believe that I deserve to feel this way time and again; or maybe this repeating pattern is my true fate? As I prepare myself for what awaits me, after all the lights go out, I close my eyes still holding onto hope that tomorrow will be a true new beginning and a step towards the good and away from all the bad days.
My Poem “Thaw”
The air is cold…
There is ice all around…
I am steeping out,
I am breaking the mould…
I refuse to stay in one place
and forever remain gravity bound…
I will not allow fear to take hold…
I will put one foot in front of the other
and walk towards my destiny
that has been foretold…
Soon the ice will thaw
and again I will see the path
upon which I am fated to walk…
There is no way of turning back,
there is no time for talk…
The essence of time is to be fleeting…
The reason of memory
is in order to be reminded of life’s meaning…
I do not fear the future,
nor do I fear this shining icy floor…
One step at a time,
I will keeping going
and walk within the light of the sun
as it slowly but surely transforms
and returns all islands of ice
back into the air from whence they came
in one almighty thaw.
My Poem ‘The Shroud of Destiny’
The shroud of destiny…
the mysterious cloak of fate…
the lasting spirit that will walk
the Earth one day with the last of humanity…
the drape of infinity as dark
as the matter that veils
the wonders of outer-space…
the personification of all life
that can be seen waiting and contemplating
before a single wick of candlelight…
the one who knows the ultimate fate of the living
and where people go when they die…
they who have no face,
but who still have a form…
they who beckon from the end of days,
and who silently warn…
I have seen them…
I have stood and looked at them,
and I have been mesmerized by them…
I have wondered what they were thinking,
and what they would say to me if they could…
they who do not move when they are in contemplation –
and yet being in their presence
and seeing the darkness that covers them is enough
to bring out so many emotions and questions…
Destiny knows me… Destiny knows us all…
Destiny knows the days gone by, and the days yet to be…
Destiny knows so much, and Destiny says so much –
without even having to say a word…
you would think that staring into Destiny
would be a frightening thing for anyone to do,
but I personally believe that Destiny
is a silent teacher with so much to teach…
Destiny too has a destiny,
and until the day comes when they see themselves
in the mirror of time
I do not think they will ever speak…
as soon as I saw Destiny for the first time
I was inspired to write about them
in the voice of my gift: poetry –
and there they will stay
and walk the spaces between my words,
and so they will shadow my footsteps,
until the day when I turn around
and I accept and I wear
the shroud of my destiny.
“Destiny is always in the dark.”
My Poem ‘The Messenger’
Everybody is here on this Earth,
everybody is a part of this world,
for a reason – but, sometimes,
most of the time, more often than not,
people have no idea why…
I, however, know exactly why I am here,
why I am alive, and what my reason to live is
and will be until the day I die:
I am a messenger, but not a messenger
that you may expect,
I do not look like any “messenger”
that I have seen in my life –
I do not wear a uniform,
and what I does not always require me to drive…
I suppose I am like an old-fashioned telephone receiver,
and when I receive a very important call
with a very important message to be delivered to someone
I answer it without question or hesitation
and I go to pass on what I have been asked to deliver.
I never know who the sender is,
I never know who the recipient will be –
I only know a face, sometimes I even know a first-name;
I do not know what the message I am delivering is
sometimes until the moment that I deliver it…
I don’t even know where I am going
until I see the signs showing me the way
to where I need to get to –
it’s like I am painting a picture of something
that hasn’t happened yet as I take each and every step,
and it is only at the end of my delivery
that I can see the complete picture in its entirety,
like stepping back and looking at a canvas
newly-framed and mounted on the wall of a gallery.
I have delivered more messages than I can remember:
a young man sitting on a bus…
I remember telling him something
that his older sister wanted him to know:
that even though she had run away from home she still loved him
and that they would see each-other again one day –
some of the messages are so emotional to deliver,
I cannot help but break-down in tears
as I give them their message,
but in the same breath I love being the bearer of hope
and that sometimes invisible and silent hand
upon a person’s shoulder
telling them that every-thing is going to be alright.
I am not sure why I was chosen…
I am not sure who it was who chose me…
I am not sure if I am doing God’s work…
I am not sure what happens next
after I reach out, on behalf of someone else,
to another person…
I am not sure if my delivery of the message
is delivered in the same way as was intended –
most of the time I can deliver
what the message is with a look
and with a burst of thought,
like I am the conductor
of some kind of psychic-electricity;
sometimes I just let the message do all the work
and I just watch from behind my own eyes
while my body acts as if it has been possessed
by some kind of magical curse.
To most people who meet me,
I am nothing more than a stranger;
to a higher-power,
I am the one whom they chose
to be their psychic-amplifier;
to the sender of the messages that I send,
I am a link to someone who they want to talk to
without having to use their own voice –
I am their secret-teller,
I am one of their story-tellers…
I am here, I am there,
to be close and near to someone,
so that I can be who from a small child
I was always destined to be:
‘The Messenger’.
My Poem ‘The Gunslinger’
Waking up even before the sun has risen,
getting up and putting on his jeans and his boots,
the Gunslinger always goes to the open window
and stares at the horizon…
watching the sky start to slowly
look like the burning ember
of a timeless celestial fire,
the Gunslinger’s heart overflows
with an intense desire –
because he knows that he is getting ever-closer
to the centre of the universe
that lies where The Dark Tower of reality
stands and casts a shadow in his direction
for the Gunslinger to follow.
The Gunslinger carries many scars…
the Gunslinger has had more than one tussles
in more than one towns and bars…
the Gunslinger does what he does
because he is being guided by
the hands of fate upon his shoulders…
the Gunslinger knew, even as a child,
that he was meant to do something
monumentally important,
and that belief and that feeling
grew steadily stronger
the more the years flew by
and the Gunslinger got older.
He was a keen student of the past…
he was a man who had learned the hard way
that if you want to survive
what life sometimes throws at you
you have got to think, learn, and act fast…
he was someone who had been taught
that respect was one of the greatest virtues
that anyone could remember and put into practice…
he was already some-what of a legend in his own right,
and he was almost as elusive
as that of the sunken island that was Atlantis.
The Gunslinger drunk life as if it were whiskey…
the Gunslinger embraced change
as if he were holding the body of a woman…
the Gunslinger was a poet
but he never in his life
wrote a single word of poetry…
the Gunslinger had been waking up
for as long as he could remember
knowing that he had a destiny to fulfil
that he could not yet fully-understand.
The Gunslinger was real,
and yet the stuff of dreams;
the Gunslinger loved a good meal,
but he hungered more to see
something of the world
but which felt not-of-his-world
that he had imagined
but had not yet seen;
the Gunslinger knew that where he was
was but a way-station to where he was going;
the Gunslinger was inspiring others,
and he was being followed wherever he went
without his knowing.
He had always thought of his weapon
as but an extension of his own arm…
he had always considered his lightning-fast draw
as his greatest gift…
he had always used his finely-honed instincts
to keep himself and those he loved
from coming to harm…
finding the one place in the entire world
where he could take off his hat
and unbuckle his gun-holster
and lay-down his revolver
is what he had always wished.
And as the rose before him,
and as the dawn-chorus called to him,
and as his trigger-finger started to quiver,
and as the heat began to darken his skin,
he knew that he was reason
for all things and for everything…
and without even blinking an eye
he smiled and then prepared to head-out,
saddle-up, and race towards
that which would give him
the reason he was seeking
why for his entire life
he had always been “The Gunslinger”.
Inspired by ‘The Dark Tower – The Gunslinger’ by Stephen King
My Poem ‘Light of your life’
Life is a symbiosis;
we may be one person,
but we are not meant to be alone;
life can be counted in sunsets
and sunrises –
however, what truly counts
and what everybody remembers the most
throughout their life
are the times that they share
when they felt the most
comfortable and at home.
Our memories are like candlelight
flickering in the wind;
our dreams are like old photographs
that have faded over time;
our fascinations and our connections
from our childhood are like breadcrumbs
of where we have been;
our thoughts and our emotions
carry farther than the seemingly small,
but in reality near-infinite,
confines of our own mind.
However young or old you are,
sometimes life can feel like a struggle –
and the greatest cure,
and the thing that you crave the most,
when your life feels like it is a rocky road,
can be as simple and as special
as a wonderfully-long hug or a cuddle;
sometimes the pressure of living can feel too much
and it is then when all you need
is that phenomenal and incredible
loving caress and touch.
Everybody shares something with everyone else;
love is universal and amazing
and is not meant to be unrequited;
even prisoners can still hold on to hope
behind the walls and the bars
of their prison cells;
those who are meant to be
must do all that they can to remain united.
Technology soon becomes out-dated;
time goes by in a flash;
some things are random,
and some things are fated;
the days to come always have echoes
within them of experiences from the past.
Never give up hope that you will one day
fall in love with someone who loves you too,
and when you find that perfect person
you will find that they understand you,
and they will want nothing more
than to orbit around you like the moon.
The things that are meant to happen and work out
the way that they are supposed to always do;
what is truly important to you
is what you carry with you
through your entire life;
and like the one in your life
who loves you the most,
until your dying day,
everything and everyone
will always be with you
and be the light of your life.
My Poem ‘We’ll always have Us’
A name cannot do justice to a picture,
a picture cannot do justice to a person,
a person who is as amazing and incredible
as you are in every way
every day as the day
that I first met you –
you are not only a part of my life,
you are my entire world;
even the sight of the curvature of your smile
makes me happy beyond content –
because to me your smile, your face,
your eyes, your hair, your voice
is uniquely yours and like no other.
I believe, that you believe,
that you and I are of the same heart and mind;
you believe, as I believe, that you and I
have been meant to be together from birth;
I believe, that you believe,
that you and I are one of a kind;
you believe, as I believe, that to both of us
there is no one like either of us
anywhere on Earth.
I crave to hear your voice;
I need to see your beautiful face;
I live to be with you;
I would do anything and everything for you;
we both know everything
that we need to know about each-other;
this poem is my love letter to you,
the woman of my dreams –
who is a part of me,
as I am a part of you.
Some things in life are fate;
love that is meant to be knows no bounds;
you mean more to me than words could ever say;
when I see you, the love of my life,
there are only smiles to be seen
and never frowns.
People share things with each other;
some people will always have a summer,
a moment, a place, a time –
just as some will always have London, or Paris;
people just know when something
feels as natural as a beautiful flower of nature,
you and I will always have it all –
because, we will always have each other,
we will always have Us.
Mark The Poet 