galaxy

My Poem “We Have It All”

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

I am different…
you are different…
everybody is different –
and yet we are all the same,
which I think is absolutely amazing!
I am on a different path,
you are in a different lane –
and yet so many people
find themselves at the same
moment of crossroads
when and where there is a vital
transference of knowledge and energy,
which can feel electrifying!
I am experiencing what I see
and what I feel around me personally,
you are interpreting everything
like only you can –
and yet when there is the discovery
of a breakthrough of life-changing proportions
people from all around the world
can gather together and herald
the arrival of yet another game-changer
in how we all live our lives.

I have never stopped being
in awe of the power and the poetry
of the universe that we can see
and measure with our own eyes
and with some of the instruments
that we have invented;
however, I know that all the secrets of existence
may never be known –
which is fine by me,
because there is more to be gained
by investigating the source of a riddle
than the eventual reveal of a mystery.

I understand the draw to explore…
I agree that we need to colonize
other worlds in order to know
more about the diversity of life
throughout the universe of galaxies…
I do not dispute that there are
other planets with other civilizations
living and thriving on them…
I would gladly take a ticket to ride
upon a rocket into orbit
or aboard a starship at warp-speed
to another part of the Milky Way galaxy –
but I do think that we all need to
look around at this world
that we live upon once in a while,
our home, and realize that right now
this is all that we have, this is who we are,
and if we could all just choose
to stop making so much of our
societies revolve around
corruption and greed
then everybody could have it all
because here on Earth
we have everything that
we could possibly need.

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My Poem “In A Galaxy Far, Far Away” (A Star Wars Poem)

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

*POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR STAR WARS: EPISODES I-IX*

A long time ago
in a galaxy far, far away…
a young farm boy looked to the horizon,
to Light of the twin sunsets of his home world
of humble beginnings,
with a dream of going on an adventure
throughout the stars,
however unaware that he was already
a vital part of an epic story
and a saga that would one day
impact upon the lives, the dreams,
and the hopes of an entire universe
of people all looking to find
a purpose that would help them
decide what side of the Force of life
that binds the fate of everything
and everyone to embrace.

A long time ago, and every day since,
a reverential group of followers
of a tale of good versus evil
have diligently paid close attention
to every episode that chronicled
every twist and turn of a saga
that revolved around a “Phantom Menace”:
a Dark Lord’s insidious corruption
of the democracy of a Republic
and their rise to power
by becoming a tyrannical Emperor
who instilled fear into their subjects
and their manipulation and temptation
to the “Dark Side” of a family
with a powerful connection
to the energy field that binds
and flows through all living things
by the name of “Skywalker”,
and the many battles that comprise
the epic “Star Wars” that has defined
an entire generation and will never
stop influencing and inspiring
everyone who has lived through them.

A long time ago, X-wing starfighters
piloted by an alliance of Rebels hoping
to overthrow a tyrannical Empire
destroyed a moon-sized super-weapon –
a “Death Star” of phenomenal power
that had the potential to change
the face and the fate of this
“Star Wars galaxy” forever,
had it not been stopped…
a long time ago, a vessel by the name
of the “Millennium Falcon”
traveled through hyper-space,
beyond the speed of light,
from one side of the galaxy to the other,
and was responsible for
delivering the return of a New Hope
to counter the revengeful resurgence
of the zealots of darkness and fear
and restore peace and balance
to a galaxy and to a universe
that established from it’s very beginning –
with compelling characters, places, vehicles,
laser battles, and Lightsaber duels –
that it would never be forgotten,
even though the events that transpired within it
as stated from the outset,
all happened a long time ago,
in a galaxy far, far away.

May The Force Be With You Always

My Poem “It’s all relative”

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

Life on Earth, time on Earth,
is individually relative to everybody
and everything alive on this planet…
the way that anybody or any thing
perceives and interacts with the world
is always dependent upon
who they are, what they are,
and where they come from…
Life on another planet,
the way that time is perceived
on another world orbiting around another star,
in another solar system,
in another part of the galaxy,
is always going to be different
in comparison to how we see things here…
Life in another galaxy,
when seen from the unique
vantage point of a radically different
celestial body, if someone were looking up
to their version of the night sky
with their own sense of sight
or through their version
of an intergalactic telescope,
would be the same as a microscopic
organism looking at a macroscopic form of life…
Life in another universe
might not be defined, nor bound,
by the same laws of nature as we have here on Earth –
so anything or anyone living
on their own version of a planet,
a moon, in their own version of a galaxy,
would be unlike anything
that we could ever quantify,
because more than likely
another universe would have their own
definitions of life, reality,
and what constitutes science…
Life for an omnipotent and omnipresent
divine being, such as God,
and the way that they would
undoubtedly observer and perceive
mortal beings with a limited life-span –
such as humanity – would be akin
to someone walking past
and looking through the glass
of an ant-farm, a maze, or an aquarium –
because life and existence
and the way that it is perceived,
interpreted, and analyzed
is always relative.

My Poem ‘Cosmos’

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

There are some absolutely
breathtaking sights…
the vivid, spectral,
ethereal, green, dancing
magnetic field of our planet
that comes alive and creates
the mesmerizing Aurora
of the Northern Lights
above the sea and the mountains
that touch an arctic sky…
there are some incredible
and stunning places that perfectly
exemplify how truly beautiful
the natural world is…
there are some unbelievably
heavenly spaces, and some
other-worldly lands
that still have yet to be
trekked upon by the foot of a human being –
places that encapsulate the meaning
of the word “wild”…
there are some amazing landmarks
of every country, continent, and island,
where people are drawn to
and they would sacrifice anything
to breathe in its air
and take in everything that makes
such a place so special and enthralling…
there are some things that need to be seen
to be believed that they actually exist.

There are places that need to be seen
in the right light so as to truly witness
their magic – at night, when the sky is dark
and the stars burn bright from so far away
all that can be seen from here on Earth
is a shimmering white…
there are songs sung and music to be heard
when we look up and a celestial voice
speaks to us and unlocks
the doors of our imagination…
there are other worlds out there
in the universe teaming with life
of unimaginable forms that dream
dreams of us at night…
there are things that are being born
every second, everywhere,
that are experiencing what it means
to be alive wherever they find themselves,
and they are discovering for the first time
the wonders that flicker in a person’s heart
and eventually become love.

There are moments when knowledge, intellect,
and words just become redundant
when compared to what we see before us…
there are feelings that overwhelm comprehension
and go beyond our instincts that we trust…
there are miracles and wishes
traveling at the speed of thought
to come and answer the calls
of those who feel lost…
there are galactic travelers
voyaging between the stars
that will one day enter our orbit
and who will reveal to us
things that we have never believed possible
but which are ubiquitous
all throughout the cosmos.

My Poem ‘The Light-years’

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

The sun is the herald
of light, energy,
awakening, and growth;
somewhere in the world
and high-above
the star at the heart of our sky
shines and effects all of our lives
more than any of us
could ever possibly know;
light can be a life-inducer;
there are some places on Earth
where because the light is different
time feels almost frozen –
a single day can feel like a year.

Nothing is ever truly stationary;
the universe, the galaxy, Earth,
our world is constantly on the move;
even seemingly empty space
is always full of something –
the mystery of the darkness
the surrounds our perfect jewel of life
too is full of shining clues;
something that happens,
even if it is light-years away,
creates ripples in space and time
that will eventually be there
at the dawn of a future brand new day.

Billions of light-years away,
billions of light-years ago,
the dark space that now exists
between the stars and the planets
was one bright beautiful light;
the universe was smaller,
life was just truly beginning;
anyone and everyone could see
the constant streams of celestial energy flow;
there was only day, there was no night;
every instant was like a constant roller-coaster
of emotions of our many senses,
and you would only have to look at a star
to hear it sing.

The bigger the universe has become,
the more that time and reality
has been pulled and stretched in every direction;
the more that life has splintered
into many from one,
everything has felt as if it were
on the verge of snapping back
because of the almighty galactic tension.

The universe has become infinite,
while life on every planet
has become finite;
as everything becomes a rush,
the more that the time we have
to truly take everything in
becomes even more precious;
there will always be love;
there will always be fear;
there will always be a reminder
that we are one of many
and yet always connected every day
and every night in the sky above;
there will always be something out there
calling to us all with a voice
powerful and capable of traversing
within the blink of an eye
the distance and the time
between every light-year.

My Poem ‘Inter-dimensional’

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

The fast moving clouds above my head
remind me yet again
that the world is constantly in motion;
the slowly decreasing volume of coffee
in my coffee cup reminds me perfectly
that everything has an end;
hearing and seeing people
conversing with others
reminds me every time
that language is like
an audibly addictive stimulus
for communicating stories,
memories, and emotions;
reading the last words of an author
is like celebrating and saying goodbye
to an old friend.

Life goes on;
heaven exists;
everybody is someone;
sometimes life is like walking through a mist;
there are worlds beyond the horizon;
there are universes where everything
and anything is possible;
there are dimensions
that stretch to infinity beyond this one;
there is life elsewhere
that is as abundant and beautiful
and as magical to behold as sea-coral.

When you are staring at a painting
you can feel like you are being drawn into it;
when you are reading a story
you can imagine yourself
as the character that you are reading about;
when you are listening to your favourite songs
you can feel every note and every word
as if there a part of you,
and you understand all that they mean
and all that they meant;
when you are watching life unfold
and real-life events take place right in front of you,
sometimes reality can be more real
than any version of anything
that our minds would ever be capable of constructing.

Some people never leave the city, the country,
the mindset of the place where they are born –
while others take flight at the first opportunity
to follow their dreams;
some people miss their calling to great things –
while others are just great at everything
and in anything that they do in life,
however some people sometimes need
to be shown what a miracle they are
and what acts of magic
they are daily witnessed performing;
some people find peace and solace
when traveling inwards;
some people find release
the more that they explore outwards;
some people go far
without having to physically travel;
some people are capable of so much
and they are so gifted in so many ways
that when they do travel to when and to where
it is always inter-dimensional.

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 Force’

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

The galaxy has no boundary,
the stars of our galactic family
are bound to each other by gravity –
but the real magic energy,
that makes everything what it is, we can’t see,
because the energy field that surrounds us all
and links every atom in our body
with those of the worlds trees
is the same that can be found
within the heart of every star
ever born that has ever shined,
which is a force that makes life,
the universe, everything possible,
which we can all feel everywhere every second
that stretches in every direction infinitely.

I have believed since I was a kid
that you should always trust your feelings,
and you should always reach
as far and as high as you can,
and never give up on being
who and what you want to be –
because anyone can do so much
and can have what they need
to bring them happiness,
if for all the days of their life
they never once stop believing.

The universe, like people, has a memory
that is the best there will ever be,
and it also thinks, plans, and experiments
from time to time, and ultimately
it wants everything and everyone to live in harmony,
in serenity, and to be free to be happy,
and understand that moments of contentment
and love are precious, and every moment
will never happen the same way again –
so you must embrace the world
and its gifts of wonderful
and phenomenal improbability.

Some of the best things
that have ever happened in your life,
perhaps even your birth,
were not planned –
but their effect will be long-remembered,
as long as the Earth is a beautiful blue light
in the dark for outer-space observers
and a paradise for those of us
who are blessed to walk its lands
and sail and swim its waters.
Nature is all about maintaining a vital balance
between the light and the dark,
between choice and fate,
between the river and the source,
and every time I feel something
that I know is special and powerful
I throw everything of myself around it
and I make it a part of me
and I feel like a sword of light
perfectly in balance with understanding
and with intense feeling
of the great and eternal
not to be underestimated
power of the force of life.

My Poem ‘Holographic’

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

Beyond what you see,
further than the horizon,
above the clouds,
above the trees,
in the art at the heart of the universe,
in the colours of the galaxy
that can only be seen from Earth with a telescope,
there is layer upon layer of light and colour –
particles of dust, laboratories of gas,
cocktails of elements,
when observed from a particular vantage-point
come together to make a picture
that is a piece of art
that has been millions of years in the making
that will slowly change over time
and evolve to be something else,
just as everything else must
that is connected to nature.

The things we see can sometimes be an illusion –
a hologram, a figment and a combination
of our vision and our imagination,
as well as our emotions,
and if you were to see the same thing
from a reversed-angle, looking back,
you would see a completely different picture
with radically different connotations.

Many things can be a trigger for great creativity;
many experiences can be spectacles
that can inspire great art;
many things must first happen in a poets life
for them to write epic poetry;
many life-changing infernos began burning
because of a well-time spark.

A face is always but a mask;
a book cover is but an entrance below
to a trove of treasure;
every planet with life
is a pearl of infinite complexity
in an ocean of dark;
a name is but a teaser
to something greater and deeper.

A library is a hive alive
with story-lovers, and story-tellers;
an art gallery is where those who
want to appreciate art and visual poetry
can go to be awestruck by a kindred spirit
that lived perhaps centuries before they were born;
everything has a story to it,
everyone has had to be a part of a journey
that may at times have been unpredictable and frenetic;
a market of any type is the best place
to see a snap-shot of an echo of something
that is primordially interstellar;
new artists rise with every new dawn;
everything that you catch with your eyes
is a layer of space and time
that exists in a universe
that when seen for all its components and projections
is fundamentally holographic.

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