Fire

My Poem “Unbreakable Bond”

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

On Christmas evening,
as my family and I gathered together
around the hearth of our burning fire,
while enjoying some family time with one another,
I knew that after this day
nothing would ever be the same again
and we would never again
be able do this in the same way:
enjoy a Christmas meal together,
pull crackers with one another,
sit watching a favourite Christmas film of ours –
because what is going to happen next
will be unlike anything that either of us
have felt, heard, or seen before.

Every moment is unique,
every family has their own story,
every new day is a new dawn,
every time you wake up every day
we all have to reset the clock –
just as every player has to do the same
after they move a piece on a chessboard –
and adapt to whatever life has in store:
all the twists, the turns, the corners,
and the constant lessons that we
have to learn from like the constant
students of life’s school that we are.

Next year will be both the end
of one long chapter as well as
the beginning of another stage in life
that will impact so many peoples’ fate…
very soon there will be a sea change
and all predictions of the future
that have been shared will have to be remade;
however, even though I know
some things will be different,
I know now more than ever
that my family and I will always
have an unbreakable bond between us
that is unlike any other in so many
phenomenal and wonderful ways.

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My Poem “Like a Moth to a Flame”

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

I am the moth
and you are the flame,
I have a fever
and you are to blame…
I write poetry
as if I were spinning silk,
and you are my muse
and the angel to whom
I pledge my undying love to
and I always will…
I have been drawn to you
since I first saw the perfection
of your face and the ethereal fire
of magic in your eyes,
and to me you have always been
and you always be the wolf of my heart
that can never be tamed
but who needs to be reminded of
just how amazing you are
and the reasons why
I will never look away from you
or ever go leave your side –
because I am in awe of you
morning, noon, and night
like a moth to the flame of firelight.

My Poem “The Devastation of Notre Dame”

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

Notre Dame is on fire.
Awestruck onlookers
are watching and witnessing
the horrifying destruction
of a French landmark
in the heart of Paris –
a place well-known,
iconic, holy, and meaningful
to the French people,
and to those who have visited
the beautiful City of Love –
as flames from within
the 850-year-old cathedral
rise and cause irreparable damage
to a French monument
that has always meant so much
to all who have gazed upon its breathtaking
gargoyle-adorned towers
and medieval architecture.

There are no words to describe
the images that the whole world
are seeing being displayed on T.V.
and being shared on social media,
and not even by those people
who are so close that they
can feel the heat
that is being emanated
from the burning building
from the other side of the River Seine
in silence, in shock, in disbelief
at what they are witnessing.

There are no words to describe
what has been lost…
there are no words to describe
the beautiful and unique
stained-glass artwork
that has been destroyed…
there are no words to describe
what scars will be felt
by those seeing such
a heartbreaking sight.

My heart goes out to those
who feel such a profound connection
to this well-known place of worship –
to all the residents of
and the visitors to
this historic and spiritual place
at the heart of the city of Paris,
as well the country of France itself –
all having to watch the dark silhouette
against the raging flames devastating
the iconic cathedral of Notra Dame.

My Poem “Some Gifts”

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Some gifts we are born with…
some gifts we slowly find
as we look, listen, think, breathe,
and as we feel the song of the world
synchronize with our heart beats…
some gifts come to us in our dreams…
some gifts are such a part of us
that every day is a journey of discovery
to discover what our gifts mean…
some gifts leave us for a short time
before rising to the surface again
to take a breath and to take a look around
so that they can restart their fire of desire
like a phoenix’s flaming tail that never stops burning…
some gifts just need time to go to new places
in order for them to express themselves like never before.

Every gift has the power to renew itself –
as long as there is solid ground beneath them
to take off from and a sky of infinite possibilities
above them to keep the constellations of stars turning…
all gifts are doorways, however some gifts
are able to create things that nobody has ever experienced,
heard, felt, nor seen before.

Some days ideas come like a trickle of interconnected thoughts
and some days some gifts manifest themselves
like a tidal wave of inspiration,
or like a storm that ultimately reaches its climax
when ideas rise and fall
like the raindrops of a downpour.

My Poem “Bonfire Nights”

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

I remember the nights
of the fifth of November…
I remember the times
standing around, feeling the heat,
and basking in the glow of a bonfire…
I remember being a child
and being completely hypnotised
by the flickering of the flames
and by the sound of the cracking
of the furnace that burned before my eyes…
I remember watching the giant behemoth
that brought light to the darkness
and warmed the heart of my family and I…
I remember being a child and reciting to myself
the rhyme “remember, remember, the fifth of November”,
and having my imagination filled with images
of “gunpowder, treason, and plot”,
and watching Guy Fawkes being burned in effigy…
it has been too long since I stood
and looked into the flames of a fire,
but I still remember and I will never forget
all those bonfire nights that were filled
with sights, sounds, smells,
memories and dreams that will forever
fuel the inspiration and the fire
of my occasional child-like wants and desires.

My Poem ‘To the sun and back’

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The light of the sun is so alluring…
the heat from the sun is so energizing…
the rays of the sun can sometimes
be so intense that can be burning…
what the sun has in abundance
and we sometimes take for granted and forget
is that it has more power
over our world-wide destiny –
and just as we have learned to harness
a fraction of our sun’s potential,
over time the star that shines
every hour that our planet is turning
will allow us to rise and realize
our own collective-potential –
but, as with every thing of power,
for every blessing there is also a warning
to not spend too much time
looking too intensely
and too longingly at the sun,
because too much of something can be damaging.

Our planet orbits the sun at the perfect distance
for life to exist, to thrive, and to evolve…
it is the gravity of our primary-star
that lies at the centre of our solar-system
that has made it possible for wonders of creation
to blossom and speckle the lands and the skies
of humanities planetary-family…
we do not own the sun and we never will,
our closest star will always have dominion over us –
and all it asks of us for what is gives so freely
is to have the foresight to know
when enough is enough…
the sun was and still is a source
of both worship and energy for many.

I have always considered the light
and the heat from the sun as a blessing,
and when I am being shined upon by its sunshine
I always feel as energized as a fully-charged battery…
the sun will always be both the fuel
and the engine of our planet
that will inform many of our choices in the future,
just as it has been in the past…
getting close to a fire can be dangerous
and it can be destructive –
but you can capture more than enough magic
from a single spark to fill your life
if you know and if you keep to a safe limit…
I have been as close as can be to a fire,
and I have on occasion been burned –
but I know what you can find
if you truly look around
at where you are and when you are
when you bask in the light, the heat,
and the inspiration of our world’s star,
and there is no telling what amazing things
each of us can find in the light and in the energy
that can be found when we travel
with our eyes and with our mind and our imagination
to the sun and back.

My Poem ‘Poet’s Fire’

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

There have always been poets…
there has always been poetry…
there have always been optimists…
there has always been a fire
of inspiration and curiosity,
even before the first apple
was picked from the tree of knowledge…
there will always be mysteries…
there will always be love…
there have always been those
who have sought out answers to questions
from one kind of divine being
or another over the many centuries…
there has always been sources of light –
both internal and external,
both within a person’s heart
or in the sky above.

A poet is like a mirror,
poetry is like a reflection…
a poet is who brings out
the emotions from within,
poetry is the spell
of a linguistic-magician.

Children paint poetic pictures
with their fingertips…
adults can emote poetry
with their eyes…
children read poetry
in the actions of their friends
and they hear poetry
from the lips of their parents…
both adults and children
inspire poetry all the time –
enough to make someone smile,
or enough to make someone cry.

Many flames make a burning furnace…
many words make a world…
many memories make a life…
many things make us feel inspired…
many experiences only poetry can make sense…
many forms of literature
can also be a life-saving cure…
many poetic dreams are born
under starlit night-skies…
many every-day influences
keep alive the light, the heat,
the flames, the energy,
and the poetry of a poet’s fire.

My Poem ‘Torchbearer’

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

I don’t know where it came from…
I don’t know where it began…
I don’t know if it was passed on
to me by my Mum or my Dad –
but I know that I am
the beholder of a fire,
a spark, a light, an energy,
that brought about the creation
of the universe and life-itself…
I feel it constantly burning in my chest…
I see it every night when it illuminates my dreams…
I hear it every morning when I wake up in bed…
I know what it is and I know what it means.

I have known of this internal fire for a while…
I have been driven by this incredible torch
since I saw its rise…
I have tried to describe it
and write poetry about it before,
and every time I do just knowing
that it still burns bright and wild within me
always makes me smile.

I am sure that more than one person
in my life has seen my light
sparkling in the blue and the sometimes green
irises of my eyes –
I see it too when I look in a mirror,
and I know that no matter what happens to me
and where I may end my days
that the light of me
will touch and inspire another
and another and another,
and when humanity finally makes itself
another home on another planet
orbiting another star
that same flame will help fulfill
the destiny of a countless number of people
in an infinite number of ways.

It is a comfort to me
to believe and to know
that I will never truly die…
it is hard to put into words
something that I know instinctively is a part of me,
but also a part of a continuum
that transcends both space and time…
it is why I was born…
it is why I am here…
it is why when I look up at the sky
I believe that I can fly…
and I am not the only one
here on Earth blessed with a gift
to be a beacon of the universe’s divine light –
we are everywhere…
and I never take the fire of my birthright for granted,
and I am honored to be one
of a universe full of torchbearers.

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 ‘The Purple Flame’

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

The Purple flame, the purple prince,
the purple reign, the purple spirit,
the purple light, the purple love,
the purple sight, the purple angel
who now flies free like a dove…
the purple revolutionary,
the soul, the purple poet, the purple poetry,
the purple energy flow,
the purple art, the purple artist,
the purple icon, the purple tempest…
we are all going to be basking in your glow
today and for all of the days of tomorrow…
I am imagining you right now
racing down a highway in heaven
with David Bowie and John Lennon
in a little red Corvette
against the backdrop of a purple sunset,
wearing a raspberry-coloured beret,
on your way to a place
where there is an ocean of inspiration
that is constantly being remade
by the diamond and pearl-like
droplets of purple rain.

You have left us,
but you are still here…
you have blessed us,
and we will remember you
every second that we hear
your transcendent music,
as we shed a tear…
you may be far away now,
but your message of love
still echoes all around the world…
you must be looking back at us now
through the clouds
and smiling to yourself
because you know that the magical gift of music
that you were a master of
is one of the universe’s must powerful cures.

The purple bird…
the purple fire…
the purple star…
the purple flower…
the purple dust…
the purple pulse that will always
flow back and forth through our veins
from our feet to our brains…
the purple night…
the purple day…
the purple life that we will always cherish
and we will always be in-awe of…
of the one of a kind prince of the purple flame.

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