human

My Poem ‘Scales & George’

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

George was brave…
George was strong…
George was a knight
who was always looking
for someone to save…
George was the one
everybody called out to for help,
and he could do no wrong.

“Scales” was your common mountain dragon,
living in his cavernous cave
underneath the Earth –
when one day, after returning from a bit of fun
that involved flying, fire-breathing,
and accidentally scaring half-to-death
the local town-folk that lived nearby,
Scales was payed a visit by a “knight”
who called himself “George” –
who had the smallest of swords
that Scales had ever seen –
and who was as full of heart
as he was overflowing with words.

It was not an everyday occurrence
for Scales to be visited by anyone –
not even an another dragon;
it was rare that a human
voluntarily came looking for Scales –
however, even from his first glance
at the young warrior-wannabee,
Scales could tell that George
was not just anyone.

“I am George – knight of the night,
defender of the weak,
the hero of the people of Mountain Shadow –
and I, dragon, am here to slay you!”
Said George while holding his sword
out in front of him
as he walked into Scales’ cave
and came face to face with the dragon.

To which, Scales laughed uncontrollably
and even exhaled a few flames of fire
he was so amused by what he had just heard.
Scales, however, was impressed by George’s
pronunciation and his ability to speak
“dragonese” – a gift that he did not know
that any human could utter,
well no human before George
that he had ever encountered.

“Well, George, hero of Mountain Shadow,
I am Scales – nice to meet you!”
Scales replied with a smile
as he looked into George’s eyes
and hoped to put a smile
on George’s glum-looking face;
however, George looked angry
to Scales for some reason,
and he did not appear to be
taking a breath –
which was probably why his face
looked like it was changing colour
and why he was shaking so intensely.

“Did you not hear me, dragon?
I am here to slay you!”
Shouted George as he could feel
his helmet begin to slip
even further down his face.

“I heard you just fine, George!
Would you care to take off your helmet
and your armour, maybe?
You have come a long way from your town –
you must be tired?” Scales replied –
fearing that George might soon faint.

“I cannot do that! I must slay you
so that you may stop terrorizing my people!
Every time we see you in the sky above
our children scream, our women cry,
and our men drink themselves into a stupor.
And I have been sent here to face you
and to slay you, because among our people
there is no one braver than I!”
Said George as he shook from helmet to his boots.

“Really, dear George?
I mean George, defender of the weak?
I am truly sorry to hear that!
I did not mean to cause so much panic!
Please forgive me?”
Said Scales with a genuine expression of regret –
to Scales he was only just having a bit of fun,
and he honestly did not mean to cause such upset.

“Forgive you? You are asking for my forgiveness?
Do you not want to roar? Or breathe flames, maybe?
Also, can you tell me how it is possible
that a dragon such as you are
can speak, and speak the most perfect of English?”

“It is not I who is speaking English, dear George –
you are speaking dragonese!
I had no idea anyone or anything could speak
in the dragon-tongue –
however, I am both surprised and pleased!”

“I am? Since when?
I had no idea there was such a language?”
Said George with a look of astonishment.

“And I had no idea that humans had such
a big heart for such a small body?
Today is truly a day for human-dragon
mutual-relations development!”

“You are not a monster at all, are you?
You are not what our children dream of
in their nightmares!
I thought that slaying you would be
the crowning achievement of my life –
but now, I realize that
though we may look different from one-another
there are things that both humans and dragons
have in common and share.”

“Perhaps you could return to your town
and say that you did in fact slay me?
And in return, I promise to never shadow
the town of Mountain Shadow,
nor shake fear into the hearts of its people,
ever again!” Said Scales as he thought out-loud.

“And you would just let me turn around and leave?
You wouldn’t just come up behind me and eat me
so fast that I wouldn’t even hear a sound?’

“George, I promise! Believe me, I had no idea
that I was perceived as such a demon of skies
by your people! I may be a dragon…
I may breath fire from time to time,
but I do not tell lies.
In fact, I have been thinking about
turning vegetarian? Sheep and cows
do not taste that great,
and humans do not do any favours
to my already sensitive-stomach
and my problematic digestion!”
Said Scales with a wry toothy-smile
after he licked his lips jokingly.

“But what if someone from town find out?
If my people ever found out that I lied
they might banish me?’ Said George worriedly.

“No one will find out. Your secret is safe with me.
You go home and receive a heroes-welcome for slaying me.
I will even give you an old tooth of mine as proof!”

“You would do that for me?”
Said George with a lump in his throat
and a tear in his eye.

“Of course I would, George!
That is what friends are for!
And if you ever need my help in any way
then do not hesitate to return her in the future.”
Said Scales with a smile,
before yawning and stretching out his wings.

“Thank you! “Scales” is it? Thank you
for your kindness and your generous offer –
I will not forget!”

“Now head home, young knight –
and tell your fellow towns-folk
how you slayed me easily
and then took a tooth from my mouth
as a souvenir. And, as I said,
if you ever need me I will be right here.”

And so, George turned around with a grin
and left Scales’ cave holding an old tooth of his
that must have been the size of his hand –
leaving Scales to rest in comfort and in silence again,
and thinking about his new-found human friend.

George returned home to his town more of a hero
than he was before he had left –
and telling anybody who might want to listen
how he slayed the dragon of the mountain
(but who to George was secretly his new best-friend).

Both George and Scales knew that their meeting
was just the beginning of a long friendship
that would be a staple of their shared future –
and both Scales and George knew
that it would not be long
before they saw one-another again
and they shared a brand new adventure.

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My Poem ‘The Green Day’

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

Today is the day
that we celebrate
the man, the legend,
and Ireland’s favourite saint…
today is the day
when we all want to be Irish,
even if it is just for 24-hours,
and when we all have an excuse,
if we need one,
to wear something green…
today is the day
when I am sure that even from space
the entire planet glows with an emerald light…
today is the day
that may only be remembered by some
through a haze of memory
as if it were just all a part of a dream.

Shamrocks are on show;
Irish beer flows;
everywhere you look green is all that see;
everybody from morning ’til night
raises their glasses
and feels their spirits rise
and fly free.

Green, to me, has always represented life,
abundance, growth, and energy;
today on Saint Patrick’s day
we can all know and see the face divinity;
green, to me, has always felt ethereal
and magical in some way;
today on Saint Patrick’s day
we can all be filled with a strength
to get through anything in life,
come what may.

God has always had his messengers on Earth,
and for centuries they have spread
the meaning of life throughout the world
through his teachings;
the meaning of life is to love and be loved,
however learning how to do so
comes in a variety of different ways;
living your life to its fullest is important
because life is precious
and the time that we have to live is fleeting;
it is a great thing
to be able to share the joy of life,
and there is no better time or way
to be our most human of selves
than on the day of green
that is Saint Patrick’s day.

The Green Day-poem

My Poem ‘We are all one’

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

Joy may come in the morning for you
in more ways than you might expect –
someone with a passion
and a drive and a love for what they do
cannot wait to jump out of bed,
while someone who feels like
they do not have a purpose in life
might open their eyes
and then close them again quickly
and cover themselves up again
below the covers
like a bird putting their wing
over them as they rest
comfortably in their nest –
however, the truth is
that everybody has a role in life,
everybody is meant to be alive,
and everybody is born to be
just as they are –
everybody is a necessary source of experience,
knowledge, instinct, inspiration,
heat and light, like a candle burning in the dark.

We all go through a metamorphosis;
we all go through an identity-crisis;
we all go through doors to places
we do not always know where;
we all go through stages of re-evaluating
what our priorities in life are,
just as we all sometimes struggle
to pick-out what we want to wear;
we are all a creation
and made in the same guise as the divine;
we are all here to be something to someone;
we are all blessed from birth
with the gift of infinite possibilities,
even if we are not given an endless life of time;
we are all of our time
and no matter how you see yourself,
or how somebody else sees you,
never forget that we are all reflections,
we are all human, we are all
resonators of change and emotion;
life is a lesson in accepting the undeniable fact
that we are all one.

My Poem ‘Above and Beyond’

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

Some people fly all the time,
while some people have never left the ground;
some people have always dreamed
since they were a child
about leaving Earth
and looking back at our planet’s
divine blue and green light,
while some people have delved deep
into the human soul
and have exposed and made loud
the voice of a heavenly sound;
some people have only had one love
in all their life,
while others have had to search
many countries, many miles,
for many days, over many nights,
to find the one whom for them
was their love at first sight.

Reaching space for an astronaut is not the end,
it is only the beginning…
diving deep for a diver is an adventure
into a beautiful and magical realm
that we as a species will never stop believing
has a captivating call;
conservationists want to preserve our planet
and its many species,
and they understand that for Earth
to continue to be the beautiful jewel that it is
as many of the life that now lives
must continue existing;
writing for a writer is an obsession,
and the perfect decoration
for a writer’s home and sanctuary
would be books on bookcases on every wall.

Our planet would die without our sun;
humanity would no longer be human
without our unbreakable connection
to planet Earth, and our reciprocal duet
of the same song;
every story that we tell each other
is distinctive of who we are
and where we come from;
what we see always has an effect on us
and on our lives –
whether we look far or deep,
below our feet,
or above the clouds
above and beyond.

MarkTheAstronaut

My Poem ‘Zenith’

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

The time is now,
the place is right here;
life can be heard
clear and loud,
the conditions for new inspiration
and new poetry are so perfect
they could bring about
both laughter and tears.

I am focused,
I am listening,
I am being sprinkled
with the world’s magic dust;
I am watching,
I am experiencing,
I am participating,
I am observing everybody and everything;
there are no worries, there is just me,
my pen, my notebook, my muse;
there are thoughts running through my mind
every second that burn hot and bright
and as fast as a burning fuse.

Words are wonderful,
however words are also limiting;
words can say so much,
however words only have the power that they do
when they are used with each other –
and even then, without emotion
and intention behind them,
they can sound as if something important is missing;
music is a different language entirely from words –
words can have so many meanings and translations,
but music is what the stars sound like;
and like planets circling their parent star,
music- depending on your proximity
and your connection to it-
can be a whole new wonderful and different world.

Every artist has their opus;
every person has their perfect moment;
everyone has their own life;
every experience has its peak;
every eye has seen its own sights;
everybody has had a flood of emotion
and an indomitable power overcome them
and take over them
when they must stand up on their own two feet
and vow to never admit defeat.

Everyone is like an ocean,
and everybody has a force of gravity
and a source of change and waves in their life-
like the Moon is to the Earth;
everyone has times when they are an insomniac
and they cannot for the love of good ever switch off;
everyone emerges into a different life
from anyone else from birth;
everyone knows the allure of a flame,
and everyone has a moment
of being a human moth.

There is no true definitive end to anything;
believing that you have total control of chaos is a myth;
there is a reason for everything;
dreams are both conjugations and premonitions;
and there are things that start out so distant
and random that come together in the end
and eventually reach a mutual and lasting zenith.

My Poem ‘Sputnik’

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

It’s six o’clock at night,
on a cool spring evening,
and I am looking out my window to the sky
at a beautiful gold and blue light,
watching the sun setting –
and the sight of it takes my breath away;
and within seconds,
I watch the sky go from red to grey,
as all that I see becomes draped
in the dark veil of twilight.

I watch the stars appear;
I see the planets rise;
I see the ultimate display of the constellations,
and I name them one by one, as I imagine them;
and then, when I see the constellation of Orion,
I am awestruck by how wonderfully its stars
shine so clear, and my entire vision
is that of an infinite number of stars in my eyes.

I spent my day taking in nature,
listening to the world around me,
being captivated by birdsong,
and watching the building of bird-nests
in the branches of the trees above,
and in the hedges of the ground below;
I spent my day believing that I knew
all in life that I could ever need to know.

Right this second, I feel like a satellite;
right at this moment, I feel like I am alone in space,
and no one even knows I am here –
because I am just a faint moving white dot in the dark sky;
right now, I feel so far away –
like a distant flickering candle
in the window of a cottage atop a hill;
and barely noticeable –
like a star of the night;
now, I look down,
and around at everyone else on Earth,
and I see what I can of their lives:
I see true happiness,
and I wonder what that feels like.

I look up at the moon;
I gaze up at the stars;
I see the heavens –
the place from where we all came from,
and I dream that I may return there soon;
I imagine that I can reach up and touch the sky,
because in the dark the void of space
does not seem that far.

Every human being has looked above
on a star-lit night, and wondered:
are we alone in the universe?
And, is anybody else out there?
I have asked myself that very question,
and I know the definitive answer –
and I speak that answer aloud every night.

Everybody sometimes goes into their own
“hibernation mode”, in which they appear
to leave their worries in another place somewhere;
I have always found it difficult
to remove myself from the world,
and not think about what is always on my mind;
some days I wish I could be a living, breathing,
astronaut floating in space –
or a part of Earth, circling the planet,
like the very first satellite: Sputnik.

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My Poem ‘The Thinker’

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

I am often observed
“lost in thought”,
and staring into space;
if you were to follow my eye-line
and believe that I were looking at nothing,
I am afraid that you would be wrong –
because, secretly, quietly, tantalizingly,
I am looking at the world,
and seeing everything:
the nature of life,
the order in the chaos;
and, as always,
what I see is constantly changing,
and the universe is always inspiring.

I sometimes forget where I am;
I sometimes lose all track of time;
I sometimes can be so enraptured
in the writing of a new poem,
that my heart-heat slows –
however I feel completely fine,
because I am in a maelstrom of fascination,
and I know that I could not stop writing
even if I wanted to,
because I am surfing like a pro
on a wave of inspiration.

Human consciousness, Human thought,
Human focus, Human art,
is our greatest gift
and our most wonderful achievement,
as a race and as a species:
we are thinkers, and believers of things;
in our own unique way, in my opinion,
no two people could ever think exactly the same –
even if they shared a link
that was telepathic, or empathic –
because we all live in different existences of degrees;
I do, however, believe that,
no matter how different we are from each other,
we are all bound together in infinite ways –
every action, every thought, every emotion,
creates it’s own interactive and universal tidal-wave.

Thinking as deeply and intensely as I do
is a wonderful gift to be able to unfurl
and wrap myself up in;
and, in turn, I do see some things
as questions that needs answers –
however, I would rather be who I am,
than someone who does not realize
the power that they have between their ears –
and that is why I am glad,
and that is why I am content,
to continue to be thought of as a writer,
and most importantly as a thinker.

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My Poem ‘Away We Go’

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

I am like the future.
I am the unstoppable;
I am the indomitable;
I am the unquestionable;
I am as I have been
and always will be;
I am here; I am there;
I am the unforgettable;
I am the poet of the forest;
I am the walker of the world;
I am the observer and writer
of the wonders of every sphere;
I am the proof that there is a strength in enduring;
I am a believer and true storyteller of tales
and experiences that point to a shared destiny,
that includes, connects, and combines,
every person and every life that has ever lived,
or will be lived;
I am someone who has seen hope brighten the world,
and given someone else, and myself,
the reason to be something and someone beyond imagining;
I am someone of infinite capacity,
whose story will go on beyond this life,
and whose voice will forever echo
along with the story of the stars;
I am someone who trusts his feelings and his instincts,
and I know a good person and an amazing person when I meet them,
and I can tell by just hearing someone’s voice,
and by looking into someone’s eye,
what lies in their soul and what is important in their heart.

I am hopeful; I am human;
I have a view of the universe and of life
that will never stop being beautiful;
I have in my heart and in my life a love and a power
that I promise will burn brighter and longer
than all the days and the seasons of the sun –
however, I am not on my own in this world of mine,
I am not the only one who sees the world as I see it:
in fact, I have shared a spectacular experience
and vision with a great many of the people that I have met,
and I constantly hold on to what I know, what I feel,
and what I have seen, and what I see
when I am struck by the lightning of connection and inspiration.

There is always somewhere you have not been;
there is always things that you do not yet know;
there are things out there to be found
that not even every dreams in all eternity
could completely imagine;
there are thoughts and dreams that are so breathtaking and special
they can give you the wings to fly,
and with them we can all defy gravity and dance with nature…
and before you know it you are off doing what you only dreamed of doing;
and with nothing in our way to stop us,
it is literally a matter of away we go!

My Poem ‘Lucky to be here’

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

Miracles are real.
Survivors are meant to survive.
Some people are strong enough
to withstand the grumbling of a world
without a scratch to feel.

Accidents happen every day in which someone dies;
however, when the same kind of accident reoccurs,
to someone else, they may unbelievably walk away without a scar,
and are able to tell others the tale
of how lucky they are to be alive.

The world can be a dangerous place,
there is no more chaotic and destructive force on Earth
than the Human race;
no one knows why or how long ago
the first domino of serendipity fell,
but the bones, cards, tiles, tickets, and stones,
that connect everything to everything,
still continue to fall,
and who will win at the end of existence’s game
no one can tell.

The reason our solar system formed and emerged
from the gaseous, rocky, and chaotic, cloud,
that orbited around our sun when it was yellow and young,
was not by chance;
the reason that Earth bloomed and became the flower of the planets,
and even gave birth to its own offspring, the moon,
is because the universe itself is in the middle
of a very fast, beautiful, and energetic, dance.

The reason human beings emerged from the ocean,
evolved, multiplied substantially,
and spread themselves around the world,
was because they had to diversify, learn, think, discover, dream,
and want to explore everywhere in order to discover
their defining nature and destiny,
and one day look and travel to the stars above
in order to forge a new link with their celestial cousins;
the reason why we are still here,
the reason why I am writing this,
and the reason you are reading this,
is because it was meant to happen –
and even now, from our actions and choices,
there will be repercussions.

I look up at the duck egg coloured blue sky sometimes,
and I think to myself ‘I have never seen anything more amazing’;
I look out at a sunset at the end of a day,
and I think, sometimes out-loud,
that I have never seen anything more breathtaking and beautiful,
and a sight that is truly worthy of a tear;
I look around at the people in my life,
and I see what connect me and keeps me alive
to enjoy the wonders of everything;
I look at myself, from time to time,
and I remember, as I look into my own eyes,
that I and countless people all around
are here for a reason –
because each of us is incredibly blessed and lucky to be here.

My Poem ‘Human Condition’

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

Our existence can seem
like a raindrop on the infinite ocean of time;
our voice can sometimes seem
muted by a barrier of silence;
our life can sometimes feel
like we are standing behind an impassable line;
the universe can sometimes feel,
when you think about it,
too big to ever understand and too miraculous
and wonderful to just be seen and lived only once.

Birth and death are inextricably-linked;
life returns even to the scorched Earth
and the black ash of the remnants of a forest fire;
things can begin and end in a blink;
the universe’s ultimate power
is that it will go on and on,
and keep making and creating,
attracting and electrifying,
and being the source and the reason
that everything must transpire.

There are some people who believe
that humanity is the only intelligent life
in the entirety of the Milky Way galaxy,
and perhaps even the entire universe;
there are some people who believe
that after death follows rebirth;
there are some people who honour and worship
an idea and a way of life
that has been practiced for centuries;
there are some people who have claimed
to have seen things, and who claim to know things,
and have been deemed mad or crazy;
there are some people who believe
there is a definitive date for the end of the world;
there are some people who are capable of anything
in response to a single word.

Humanity is a singular, special, wonderful,
fascinating, and complex creation of life-
but in my opinion, it is not, will never be,
and has never been the most intelligent life,
nor the only life in the galaxy;
humanity has described itself in many ways,
and has believed itself to be many things
since we became free-thinking, and self-aware:
in stories, in legends, in monuments,
in countries, and in all languages,
in the form of music, art, and poetry;
and even though we like to think we have considered
and thought of every possibility of existence
there could ever possibly be,
there are dimensions of understanding
we all choose not to consider-
because they are too endless for us to dare.

Philosophers consider the who, the what, and the why;
doctors are the healers of our bodies and minds;
artists are the interpreters and magicians,
and the performers of the colours of the human soul;
astronomers are the watchers and observers
of the past, the present, and the future;
astronauts are the personification of freedom,
and boundless adventure, and a dream made real
that a man or a woman, without gravity, can fly;
a generous heart of someone special
is an example of the best of human-kind;
our wonder and awe at the sight of a sunset
is something truly magical;
our combined knowledge and constant ingenuity
is always going to be the most powerful,
intelligent, and interconnected computer.

We are all on a secret mission:
we all must do the best we can,
consider every possibility,
act on impulse,
love, laugh, see,
live every day with a dream and with hope,
and you will be among the brightest stars
of the human constellation,
and the perpetual life-force
of the Human Condition.