flying
Mark The Poet: My Poem “Flight Mode”
My Poem “Flight Mode”
Almost as soon as they break through the clouds, the passengers and the crew members of every aircraft immediately go into "Flight Mode" - during which most electronic devices do not receive, nor are supposed to transmit, any kind of radio signals other than those necessary to help the captain and the pilot know what it is that they need to know... almost as soon as a passenger jet has reached its optimal altitude is when the onboard experience of most modern commercial flights begin - including the enjoyment of whatever entertainment is available, as well as whatever food and drink there is to be ordered and consumed - and, before long, the time to your destination seems to fly by and so much so that you wonder where all the time goes. While flying anywhere in the world you can find yourself sitting in front, behind, and alongside people you may never have met before, and after your flight you may never see again... while flying anywhere in the world you can look out of the windows of the cockpit and find yourself flying over countries that might have their own distinct culture and language, but when seen from above it can be hard to differentiate one country and its people from another - because while in the air the world can look as if it is, as it should be seen as being, one and the same. Since the very beginning of intercontinental and international travel it has become increasingly easier for almost anybody to go anywhere in the world - especially since the ability to be able to book a flight and to go on holiday has become even more accessible and accepted than ever before - meaning that more people now than at any other time can choose to go anywhere and do anything that their heart desires and then return home with stories of places, people, and experiences that they have had, as well as with souvenirs of where they have been to share and to show... flying is such a normal activity for most people to be able to do in this day and age, that almost as soon as some people arrive from their getaway somewhere they are already looking in the direction of the departures lounge of the airport they have just flown into and can not wait to return to where they have been so that they can once again turn on their "Flight Mode."
My Poem “The Kite Flyer”
Over time we learn more about the world,
we learn more about ourselves,
and more about how the biology,
the chemistry, and the physics
of the universe actually works –
by asking questions, by seeking connections,
by looking at our own reflection,
by making mistakes, by taking missteps,
by “going off the reservation”,
by doing things, by choosing things,
and by believing in things
beyond what we know that we need to grow,
but which can innitially seem
as ephemeral and as fleeting as snow,
and then slowly but surely
we build up within us memories,
experiences, recollections, and dreams
of a person, of a place, of a time
that can resonate like a beacon to guide us
and potentially save us in instances of twilight,
that we must hold on to and marvel at
like the stars but never let go of –
like a kite twisting and turning
against a blue sky on a day
when the force of the energy all around us
feels like it could easily
lift us off of the ground.
My Poem “The Red Kites”
Against the bright blue of the morning sky
I see the dark silhouettes of many
birds of prey circling above
as they use the warm air currents
to fly, to glide, to quiver, and to hover
over the trees and the fields below –
and it took my a while to realise
who I was looking up at
and what I was looking up at,
however I instantly knew
that were not eagles, they were not hawks,
they were not seaguls, nor crows –
but it was not until I saw
the unmistakable reddish-brown
of the birds body and the black-streaked
pale grey feathers of their head,
and the forked feathers of their tail,
that I knew the identity of whom
and what I was looking at
and who and what were looking down upon me:
Red Kites, soaring like nothing
I had ever seen before,
gently drifting majestically
like princes and princesses of the air,
seemingly without a care, hunters,
acting on instinct and just being
who and what they were meant to be,
at the same time embodying the greatest
wish of life: the gift to be free –
and it was as I watched them
circle high above my head
that I wished I could be
just like the Red Kites,
because as they soared so effortlessly
they seemed as if they were like
something out of a dream
from my childhood and from a world
that my imagination brought to life
every day and every night.
My Poem ‘Back down to Earth’
I’m back now…
my second home is now
4000 miles away again…
I’m back below the clouds…
I feel like I am a man of two minds:
one, a proud Englishman;
and another, someone who feels at home
in Georgia, in the United States of America,
where there is more opportunity
to do anything, at any time of the day,
and at any given moment
as there are lanes on a highway.
I’m back where everybody drives on the left,
instead of on the right…
I’m back where I was born –
however, there isn’t a moment
when I do not miss the light of my day,
the light of my night,
the light of my life,
back there where you can see
fireflies flying and glowing
against the stars of a twilight sky.
I’m back wearing jeans –
however, only days before
and for two weeks-straight,
I had been wearing shorts
morning, noon, and night,
and getting touched on the skin
by the heat and the light of the sun…
I’m back walking down familiar paths
and sitting in the same chairs
in the same places that I know every inch of –
however, though I am awake and writing
here in England, I am also projecting myself
back to Georgia with Melissa
and dreaming along with her
and surrounded by the scent of a burning candle
that smells like coffee
when its wick burns and its wax melts.
I’m back where there are not as many drive-throughs
as there are in the US;
here in the UK, for example,
if we want to withdraw some money from our bank-account,
or if we want to pick up a prescription from a pharmacy,
we have to actually walk to somewhere –
however, in the US you can get money,
you can pick up your prescription,
as easily and as speedily
as you can order take-out food,
and you don’t even have to leave
the comfort of the driving-seat of your car.
Both the US and the UK share many things in common,
but there are many wonderful differences
that set them apart…
we have different names for the same things:
in the US, people seem to find more time
to celebrate and remember the liberty
and the freedoms that they are
constitutionally entitled to…
both the US and the UK even have
different forms of humour
and things that they find funny,
but both the US and the UK know
the true joy that comes with sharing experiences
together as friends and as a family,
and why it is important to smile and to laugh.
Both the US and the UK have for centuries now
shared a “special-relationship” with one-another,
and from my perspective and from my experience
our commonalities have no limit
to their importance and worth…
to me, both the US and the UK
are two sides of the same coin,
they are two halves of the same heart,
and I feel and I know with all my soul
that the US and the UK are bound to each-other
in more ways than could ever be described –
and when I am away from both the UK and the US
there are things and there are people
that I miss more than others,
but it is my knowledge
of what makes both the US and the UK
so special that always makes me smile
and always brings me back down to Earth.
My Poem ‘Welcome Back’
It’s been a long time
since I thought like a poet,
or wrote a rhyme…
I didn’t know if
I would be able to do it again,
when I opened my notebook
and I picked up my pen.
I have been enjoying life
living every day surrounded by love,
but now I am traveling
into the morning light
and flying like a dove…
an island on the other side
of the Atlantic Ocean is calling:
I am going back home
to where the temperature is low
and snowflakes are falling.
I don’t want to leave where my journey began –
I am happy to see my family again,
but I am truly sad to be leaving
the love of my life and my second family…
I can still see the last face I saw
before I left America behind for a while,
I can still see in my mind
the house that has been my home
for two weeks, or more,
that has the family name
hanging over it of “Dial”.
Once in a life-time memories made,
but now I am flying on a plane
to the land of Shakespeare,
red TELEPHONE boxes,
green-fields, and The Beatles…
in 10 hours, I will be back home in England –
however, already I feel a sensation
of ‘butterflies’, and pins-and-needles.
My mind is always in the rear-view mirror,
I am always reliving in my mind
moments that other people
might think too small
and too brief to be remembered…
when I left the U.S. tears fell down my cheeks –
whenever I have to make a difficult leap
it is always hard for me to know
what to say and how to speak –
however, though time has gone by too fast,
I know that this time will not be my last,
being where I think about every hour of the day,
with those whom cannot wait to see me again
and wish me a heart-felt ‘Welcome back!’
My Poem ‘Winging It’
Leaving home…
leaving your comfort-zone…
looking up to the sky…
extending your wings, preparing to fly…
only one place, only one destination in mind…
soon to pass in front of the moon
and rocket as fast as you can
to the land of the free,
and for a while leave your home behind.
You travel light, you travel alone…
you travel morning to night,
and night to morning…
you travel, because you have heard a calling…
you travel, and as you do
you live a dream.
Certain days in our life are like landmarks
that we anchor ourselves to…
certain days – like birthdays, Christmas,
New Years Day – keep us grounded and reminded
of the important things in life…
certain days in our life
remind us of days gone by –
even though they are completely brand new…
certain days continue to shine all our lives
with the beauty and the intensity of heaven’s light.
Like in Peter Pan, it is your happiest of thoughts
that elevates you and allows you to rise above…
like your soulmate’s smile,
it is their breathtaking beauty
and the feelings that they stimulate in you
that makes your heart glow like a star in your chest
which is the epitome of all that you love…
until you have felt the freedom
of being unbounded by gravity
only then can you know what it is like
to be an astronaut floating in space…
for some people, flying is something
that they get to do every-day –
and, personally, I can think of nothing more amazing
than being intertwined with the palpable energy
of the indescribable that never ceases
to put a smile on every face.
I think that there should be more
astronauts who are poets…
I think that there should be more
travelers who rely on their instincts…
I think that there should be more
gateways to new frontiers, rather than fences…
I think that there should be more
people who would do whatever it takes
to helps others to see and understand
what it means to be truly alive…
I think that making plans is a great thing to do –
however, in my opinion, in my experience,
sometimes you just have to let things happen
naturally and grow out of the moment –
in other words: sometimes in life
it is best to not worry about what you don’t know,
and take a leap into the unknown,
and until you know what you are doing
just do what I do regularly:
get busy at winging it!
‘Blue Sky’ by Poet of The Sphere
Blue sky above me, blue sky below me,
blue sky all around and as far the eye can see;
I have risen, and without even having to try
I have reached beyond my grasp and I have touched the sky;
the universe within me, and the universe around me
have both come to a mutual impasse to reveal to me my destiny.
Shakespeare; Poetry; Friendship; ‘The World’ itself:
Why did I take ‘The Complete Works of Shakespeare’ from that shelf?
Why did I start writing poetry and teach myself to write in rhyme?
Was my meeting of all those who I have met simply a matter of time?
What is ‘The World’? What is the meaning of our lives?
What should we do when our moment to shine arrives:
when we are called upon to make a difference and to make our mark,
to touch people with the same magnitude as the universe’ first spark.
Since I wrote my very first stanza I have not been the same;
after that first poem I cannot convey how important poetry became.
To be inspired by life; to have patterns of words come to me as if by magic;
to write something meant for the entire world and not just for the esoteric.
To share what it’s like to have blue sky above me, blue sky below me:
to fly above the clouds, and to find inspiration in everyone and every tree.
-Mark Hastings, Poet of the Sphere, 2010
‘Blue Sky’ by Poet of the Sphere
Mark The Poet 