friend

My Poem “Loyal Companion”

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

All those times when they looked up
at you with love in their eyes…
all those times when you would both
snuggle up to one another
and they would lay their head upon your chest…
all those times when you would
kiss them and they would kiss you
and they would want you
to stroke them as they rolled over…
all those times when you would both
go out for a walk, when you would talk
and even though they did not say a word
you knew that they were listening to you intently…
all those times when they would know
you were home even before they saw you,
when they would prick up their ears,
when they would wag their tail
and they would be so overjoyed
when they finally saw you.

There are no words to describe
what it is like to have an animal,
a best friend, a member of your family
who knows you better than you know yourself,
who you could never forget
all those times, all those moments,
and all those treasured and unforgettable
memories that you shared with them,
that you will always remember,
which you shared with a soul mate
who to you was more than a pet
and who to you will always be
a life long loyal companion.

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My Poem “Hello Friend!”

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

It’s always great
making new friends…
when we watch certain characters
on television or in films
we often quickly become drawn
to a particular protagonist
that we, for one reason
or another, can identify with.

It’s always good to explore
new things – films, music,
books, places, stories –
and it is always fascinating
to witness how a particular
journey can change a person
in so many different ways.

Whenever we all watch
certain characters in movies,
or on television,
and we see them having to overcome
all obstacles that they have to contend with,
and face all the adversaries
that they have to face,
while walking the path that is their fate,
it can be such a thrilling
and an exhilarating experience
that certain people often choose
to return to those same stories,
and to those same characters,
time and time again.

When we become engrossed
in a particular story,
and when we become invested
in a particular cast of characters,
we never want what we and they
have been through to come to an end;
however, most audience members know
that endings are just as fundamental
to a story as beginnings,
and as long as when a story
comes to a close it is satisfying –
and it is revealed that everything
that happened was all for something –
then, in some way, people can cope
with the ultimate moment
of finality without regret.

When we have to say goodbye to someone –
even if it is only a well-loved character
who we see performing on a flat-screen –
even the most detached of watchers
can become so connected
to whom they have been watching,
especially if the storyline
that is coming to a conclusion
has been a compelling
and riveting one to behold;
and that is why, when
some people reach the end of a story,
they automatically go back
to the very beginning of
the same story that they have been
watching, reading, or perhaps
listening to, for so long,
and they start the journey all over again
in an attempt to recapture the magic somehow,
by greeting the same characters
that they are already greatly familiar with,
with a smile, and with a warm:
“Hello friend!”

‘Playing God’ out now on Amazon

Mark Hastings books, Short-story , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Seven stories… Seven perspectives… Seven experiences… One Man in Black, one Man in White… Seven morality tales of one immortal… Rebel, Hero, Friend, Fan, Father, Son. Playing God takes you on a journey that connects a hero of myth with a modern day hero of music.

You can get a copy of my new book, Playing God, below:

My Poem ‘Winter’s Solace’

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

Life can sometimes be hard;
sometimes people can live a life of silent pain;
life can sometimes feel like an endless night,
during which the time until the arrival of new light
can seem too long;
sometimes all you need to have in your life,
to get you through a tough time in your life,
is your one and only best-friend –
especially when you feel low…
especially when you feel like you have nowhere to go…
especially when you are up all night
and you sleep through the day…
especially when you need the strength to be brave.

There is always hope, even in darkness;
you can always find solace,
even at the centre of a world of madness;
keep a hold of your faith,
even when you do not at first
recognize the voice of God;
keep love in your heart, always –
and with it you will live and breathe with a purpose,
and every time when you fall to sleep
you will rest like a log.

As the world turns, seasons change…
as the days run away with themselves
it is so easy to feel as if you are losing your place…
as the clouds gather, it can be hard to see
the light of the sun…
as the hours feel like they are merging into one,
everybody needs to stop time,
everybody needs to gather around a source of light –
because everybody needs some peace,
like that which you find in a sun-drenched
autumn-colored forest…
everybody needs some winter solace.

My Poem ‘El Transformador’

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

You haven’t lived,
in my opinion,
until you have seen and heard
the movie ‘Transformers’
dubbed in Spanish;
you haven’t lived
until you have traveled
4000 miles to be with
the one whom every day
makes real all that
you have ever wished;
you haven’t seen
true natural-beauty
until you have seen
the Great Smoky Mountains up-close
and you have breathed in
the clear fresh-air
that is in abundance;
you haven’t seen an angel,
in my opinion,
until you have laid your eyes upon
the woman who I adore and love –
because on a scale of perfection
there is no one who looks
and shines with as much
breathtaking and heavenly magnificence.

You haven’t lived
until you have walked the tracks of a rail-road,
under a perfectly-unbroken blue-sky,
that runs alongside the Nickajack Lake in Tennessee;
you haven’t known true-love, in my opinion,
until you have been loved in every way imaginable,
as much as I love Melissa,
as much as Melissa loves me;
you haven’t heard the heart-beat of life
until you have reached out and felt
the source of divine joy and happiness
that resides in the south of North America;
you haven’t heard the voice of your own soul
until you have been kissed and told
“I love you” by the light of your life
who is to you your life-defining shining-star.

You haven’t been given
a sign of the existence of God, in my opinion,
until you have taken a journey with your best-friend
and you have watched the book of life open up
and make sense of every-thing
that you have ever pondered,
and you find out that your best-friend
and your soulmate was put on Earth
to be with you forever;
you haven’t arrived at the true start
of your destined-path
until someone comes into your life
and without even having to try
reveals the true you
that you may at times keep under-cover.

You haven’t known a place of true-salvation,
in my opinion, until you have been
where I have been, and until you have heard
the song of your heart and spirit being performed;
you haven’t felt like
you have been to the moon and back
until you are alone with your one-and-only,
and every second feels like a life-time,
and every moment that you touch and are touched
you feel blessed and transformed.

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My Poem ‘Infinitely Mine’

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

Hello, sunshine;
hello, muse;
hello, best friend;
hello, love of my life;
hello, you;
hello, my inspiration,
hello, my partner in crime,
hello, the other half of my soul
who keeps me standing –
as if our connected lives
were books and you and I
were each other’s bookends.

Even on a rainy day
you keep my fire burning;
even when the clouds cover the sky
you light up my life;
even as the world keeps turning
every time I see you
all reality stands still
and apart from your beautiful face
nothing else is as mesmerizing;
even from far away
I am always there when you need me
and I am always right by your side.

When I open my eyes you are there;
when I dive deep within my mind
you are my life-line;
when I gasp to stay alive
you are my air;
when I look at old photographs of us
I can see, just as anyone can,
that you and I are two of a kind.

We constantly wonder
what each of us are thinking;
I can look into your gorgeous eyes
and know instantly what you are feeling;
we are always sharing the same dreams
and reading the same signs;
I often picture where you are
and what you are doing,
even when we are on the phone
and simply talking –
and every day no matter the time
I am always telling you
that I am eternally yours,
and I hear and I feel you telling me
that you are infinitely mine.

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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 ‘Balloons’

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

Where we have been
and where we are going
are tied together
by the threads of our lives;
while we are enjoying a good story
we never want it to come to an end;
darkness and light ties night to day
and day to night;
sometimes when we know
we are approaching the end of a great book
we will put it down and bookmark our place
so that we can pick up one day where we left off;
however, just as every writer
must finish writing their story,
every reader must follow a tale
to its conclusion,
and when they reach the last word of the last page
promise to return to the same story again and again –
the same, but different –
like periodically catching up with an old friend.

We all sometimes look at our own reflection
and do not immediately like the face that we see –
though someone else may look at the same face
and see the face of unparalleled infinite beauty;
we all should remember that a mirror
can only show us a distorted image of how we appear,
and the only true way of knowing
who the world sees when they look at us
is to go to the one person who knows us best
to describe us and tell us who they see
and what about us they most revere.

We all have reasons for what we do;
certain things and special people
have an indefinable gravity about them;
we all love people in our lives
in ways that we show every day,
but we sometimes feel a need to prove;
we all leave many clues;
I, myself, could never deny
an unbreakable connection –
once made, never severed –
because, just like the bound pages in a book,
bound people are linked forever
because that is what was always meant to happen.

Some people rise and fall by the resonance of a voice;
some hearts beat in perfect-time with other hearts,
and even when they are far-apart from one-another
they constantly sing “see you soon”;
falling in love is uncontrollable
and it is a fundamental instinct without choice;
all stories have chapters and twists,
beginnings and endings,
and some have a pace and a depth to them
that is as vast as space;
and though its true meaning and message
may not be as blatant as a telephone ringing,
the best thing about any story
under any cover is one that you can hold,
walk with, and even tie to something,
and is that which you should never let go of –
because once a story rises too high out of reach
it will become someone else’s,
and slowly drift away like the wind
carrying away a balloon of your own making.

My Poem ‘The Air I Breathe’

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

Please believe
that you are the air that I breathe;
don’t forget
what you mean to me;
being with you
is a dream come true;
your love is the best thing ever,
I want us to always be together;
you are more beautiful
than all the angels of heaven;
you will always have my heart,
you are my life-long passion;
I will always be the voice
singing you off to sleep,
what I have isn’t much
but what I have is your to keep;
seeing your smile
makes me happy beyond words –
you are the sky, the light,
the heart of my world.

The moment that I saw you
I could not believe
who I was seeing with my own eyes,
it was like my life had been reborn
with a flash of gold
like a new morning’s sunrise.

Exchanging words at first
was like talking to a celebrity,
now I cannot wait to tell you
and the entire world
how much I love you
and what you mean to me.

The words that I write,
the dreams that I dream –
without you in my life
just wouldn’t sound right,
and without you to complete me as you do
my world would turn into a whirlpool
like the winds of a stormy sea.

You fill my lungs with oxygen;
you are my soul-mate,
you are my best friend;
you are the love of my life,
and being with you is the life that I love;
no matter what I say
my words will never, nor could ever,
be enough to describe the one who I love:
you, my gorgeous angel;
you, the most beautiful;
you, the greatest miracle in the world
that I have ever seen;
you… the air that I breathe.

My Poem ‘Guardian Angel’

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

Your guardian angel,
your true soul-mate,
the most beautiful,
the greatest of the great;
your loving, sharing,
caring, best friend,
your inspiration, your hero,
the path with whom that has no end;
the person for whom
your love you can’t ever not show.

You cannot always see them,
but they are always there;
you cannot always hear them,
but it is to your picture
that they always stare;
you cannot always be with them,
but they are always thinking about you;
you cannot always put into words
how much they mean to you –
however, you can always guarantee
that the feeling is beautifully mutual.

The poetry that they write
is the life and soul of their heart;
wherever they are, whatever they are doing,
a part of them and you
are creating invisible
timeless masterpieces of art;
the hopes and dreams that you share
make each of you who you are;
the light that shines
when you both combine
is brighter than any star.

Sometimes the less you say
the more you say;
sometimes the most beautiful flower in the world
grows in the wildest of gardens;
the most priceless jewel in the world
can only be found
and it cannot so easily be given away;
those who save us every day
are the angels that walk the Earth
and are a part of our lives,
and they are our eternal and loving guardians.

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