first

My Poem ’35 years’

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

It’s been 35 years
since I first saw the light of the world…
it’s been 35 years
since I first made my first sound…
it’s been 35 years
since I first heard
and tried to say my first word…
it’s been 35 years
since I first looked up to the sky
and I saw the very first sculpture
that formed in the clouds…
35 years of thoughts,
35 years of dreams,
35 years of memories,
35 years of the Earth and me.

When I think back
there are things that happened
that now in retrospect
seem more like a dream than reality…
when I remember where I once was,
and with whom, it sometimes feels like
a story that I am thinking about writing,
or something that may one day be
the inspiration for future poetry…
when I see photos taken when I was a child,
or those taken just a year ago
on a bridge high above the Tennessee river,
every memory to me feels like
they just happened yesterday…
when I think about how things have changed for me,
and for everybody around the world,
I sometimes find myself speechless
and unable to know exactly what to say.

I cannot thank my amazing parents,
Bernadette and David Hastings,
for all that they have given me
every day since the day that I was born…
I cannot thank my beautiful fiance, Melissa,
enough for giving me the gift
every day of unlimited and unbounded love…
I cannot thank my loving family enough
for the smiles and for the world of happiness
that continues to refill
my floor-less ocean of emotion and happy tears…
I cannot thank everybody who I have known
throughout my life who have shared
moments with me over of the last 35 years.

My Poem ‘The First of Many’

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

They say that how you spend
the first day of the year
is also how you will spend
your last day of the year,
and vice versa;
every year for as long as I can remember
I have spent the first early hours of every year
doing the same thing
that I did the year before on January 1st;
some people make resolutions
and vow to stick by them
and repeat the same steps
over and over again like a novice dancer;
every year on day one I set out into the world
and I seek to quench
my ultimately unquenchable poetic thirst.

‘Happy new year’ is a hope for the best;
a smile and a kiss when the clock strikes twelve
at the first second of new year’s day
is like the important first move
in a game of chess;
a thought about someone else
can be like a torch
to help guide someone through a fog;
your constant companion
and your best friend
will help you overcome anything
that you may be dealing with –
and they could be your partner,
your hero, or they could be
your ever-faithful dog.

This is my first stepping-stone of hope;
this is my first promise to stay true to myself
in the form of my poetry;
this is my foray into a new future
I do not yet know;
this is my first new year’s resolution, of a sort,
and I can guarantee already
that it is but the first of many.

My Poem ‘One Life Only’

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

The meaning of life
is not to be rich –
the reason you are here
is to find the one
with whom you are meant to be with;
the reason for the waves of the ocean
is the same as the reason
that everybody has emotions;
the reason why we change
when we fall in love
is because we are always reminded
subconsciously of the instant of our birth,
when we opened our eyes and we looked above,
and we came eye-to-eye
with the first face that we saw –
every day of our lives
we want to feel what we felt,
and we want to find the only other person
who could ever compare
to the first love of our lives
that we naturally and instinctively adored.

A little-known thing
that as we get older we all forget…
a seemingly small but significant moment,
like a sunset…
the knowledge that the more that you give
the more that you get…
the thing that will remain
ingrained in your brain
even after your body’s last breath…
the last thought
that will pave the way
to heaven after death…
that which will build
the landscape of the world to come next…

What you do with your life is your choice –
the repercussions of your actions
will be your true voice;
when you are low,
when you reach the wall of “I don’t know”,
when you feel pulled in every direction,
when you want to make what you do for pleasure
and what you do for love
your one and only profession,
when you can live
and be there for someone else,
when it finally dawns on you
that the most important people
in your life are what make up
the true riches of your wealth –
then you will know what you have been missing,
then you will know you have a world of everything,
then the sun will shine even on rainy day,
and then you will live the dream
that will never fade away.

If we could all go back to the beginning,
if we could all go back to the start,
if we could all know the self-titled song
of our lives that we have been singing along to
since day one,
if we could put our present
back inside time’s wrapping,
if we could find earlier
the one with whom we share the same heart,
we might find our life
slowly coming undone –
so, don’t think too much
about the road less traveled,
don’t think about wanting your life
to fly by, or to get older quicker…
take every day slowly;
don’t think, just do;
find the one for you,
even if you have to search the entire world;
let things happen as naturally as possible;
build a home of bricks, not sticks;
don’t worry about the why of things,
just make the most of your
one life only.

My Poem ‘Our Magical Opus’

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

I want to tell you a story,
about a prince of poetry
and a princess of unfathomable beauty…
who met and who fell in love
after being drawn together
and to each other
by their love of music,
who long to live happily ever after
in each others arms as-one
and forever enjoy and revel
in each others’ magic.

There are forces at work all around us;
there are unstoppable alignments at play
like the perfect orbits of planets;
there are electronic, spiritual,
biological, magical opuses;
there are seemingly random fragments
combining and attracting each other like magnets.

That first picture;
that first message;
that first peak under the cover;
that first expression of love;
that first digital kiss;
that first shared dream;
that first face to face;
that first smile that eclipses
all others that you have ever seen;
that first touch;
that first look;
that first first embrace;
that first loss of control
when hands and fingers and lips
come together in a lock.

There are modern day fairy-tales;
there are people who are meant to be
together forever all around the world;
there are stories of synchronicity
that are as beautiful and amazing
and as breathtaking as they are incredible;
there are some fires
that are always meant to burn.

The story of this prince
and this princess…
the story of the American beauty
and the English poet…
the tale of the Englishman
and the American woman
who love one-another
more than they could ever confess…
the tale of the two hearts
who grew up worlds apart,
but who one day found each other
as if discovering a life-changing
and priceless treasure…
is the story of the beautiful destiny
of my angel and I –
that is deeper, richer, and more amazing
than words could ever describe,
because it is the most phenomenal, epic,
unbelievable, poetic and magical opus.

image

My Poem ‘Music-verse’

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

Before the download,
before the CD,
before the cassette tape,
before the vinyl;
before we were telling
the time of the day by sundial;
before the flute, before the drum;
before anyone ever had any thought
to what music of any kind was,
the music of nature has been playing on repeat –
lyrics, melodies, fast, slow,
deep, epic, uplifting, inspiring,
mystifying, electrifying,
amazing, permeating beats.

Before the first sunrise,
before the first drop of rain,
before the first primordial noise,
before the first feeling of pain,
before the first rumble of thunder,
before the first flash of lightning,
before the first father and mother,
there has been a song being sung
that the universe and all life within
will never stop singing.

The universe itself
and every star of every galaxy
are notes and vibrations
and echoes of light
of a vast and endless symphony;
the universe is like a turntable
and it is always spinning –
however, no matter how fast it is moving
and how fast life is rising and dying,
we all go with the revolution
of the cycle of life,
and we do not ever stop to think
that we should be in any way dizzy.

Humanity has known
that it has been making its own music
from the second that the first man and woman
put their hands up to each others chests
and felt each others hearts beating
and drumming like an earthquake;
humanity has been hearing music
ever since they heard
the first distant roar of a wild animal;
life has been sending out waves
since the creation of the universe,
and Earth is one world of many
where things happen every second
that we would call miracles;
dreams, art, birth, creation,
death by supernova –
the microscopic and the macroscopic events
that have shaped everything,
and which continue to reshape
the observable and the unseen universe,
is the music of all life
of our music-verse.

My Poem ‘The First Impression’

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

The first impression
is always the most important;
the way that you present yourself
speaks volumes about how important
something is to you;
the first word that you speak
echoes and forever stands out;
the old saying that you can tell a lot
about someone just by watching
and noticing how someone walks in their shoes,
and what someone’s choice of footwear
can tell you about someone,
is absolutely true;
the first of anything
sets the standard for everything to follow;
the first expression can have as much impact
as a burst of light from the sun;
the first message is often forgotten –
however, if and when reread,
that same first chain of words,
at the end of everything,
always resurfaces and means the most;
the first signs, the first icons,
can imprint more meaning, more feeling,
and they can be a source of constant hope,
like the always recognizable symbol of love.

Meeting someone you love,
meeting someone you care for and adore,
meeting someone you have never met before for the first time,
meeting and greeting someone at your front door,
is one of the best things that will ever happen to you –
especially, because the more instant
and unexpected that first meeting is
it can speed up your thoughts
and your heart-rate so fast that
that first view can change you.

Love at first sight is true,
it exists, and it is not simply a myth
invented by romantics;
the first exposure to anything,
especially at a young age,
will inform a great many
of your important life-decisions;
the first reaction that you have to something
can sometimes be deceptive –
but the look that someone gives you with their eyes
can be as rhythmic as a song-lyric;
and just as everybody follows one kind
and one type of a fashion,
so too does everything grow
from that very important first impression.

My Poem ‘Sonnet’

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

This place cannot be.
This face I cannot see.
This feeling will kill me.
This beating in my chest must be set free.
This fire will inflame the world.
This desire is beyond all words.
This one was not the first,
but they will be the last.
This man has met the Angels of Heaven,
and the demons of hell,
and has been to the sun and back.
This miracle is not perfect.
This poem is the pulse of a poet.
This is my poem, this is my “Sonnet”.