My Poem ‘The Day-dreamer’

I am a boy in a bath-tub…
now I am a boy in a boat
on the surface of a pond…
within the blink of an eye
I am now a teenager
in the middle of a vast lake
surrounded by mountains…
I blink again and I am now racing
down a river, over rapids,
and all the while I am
a man in a boat without a paddle,
and then I reach the edge of a waterfall…
and when I open my eyes now I am on a sea
in the middle of an ocean of blue,
and overhead there is an unbroken sky
as clear as a new-born baby’s eyes –
and there I am, alone in my boat,
wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of little-blue jeans,
with a notebook and a pen settled in my lap…
and it is then that I drift away
and allow myself to be carried by the waves…
and within seconds there follows the end of the day –
the night surrounds me, the stars shine brightly,
the sea-air floods my lungs and my thoughts
more with every second and intake of breath…
I close my eyes again, and when I open them this time
I am among the stars in outer-space
being drawn to a new shore…
and when I blink once more
now I am clearly on the sea of an alien world –
where the sky is as golden as an Egyptian desert,
and the water beneath me is as red as a ruby…
when I momentarily look down at my notebook
and then I look up the picture before has changed again –
now I am encircling a vortex at unbelievable speed,
and the world becomes a blur…
and then I awaken in my bath-tub,
and I am a man of 35 –
a life-time of imagination returned to me
and took me on a journey of space and time
in the few seconds that I my eyes were closed…
now there is no fear…
now things are clearer…
I am on my way somewhere…
I do not know where life will take me next,
but I know that I will never stop being
a life-long day-dreamer.

TheDay-Dreamer

My Poem ‘The life of an idea’

Sometimes it comes like water-drops;
sometimes it comes like a flood;
sometimes the idea is born
from that instant when the words
just don’t want to stop;
sometimes creativity takes time
to grow from the seed
that you planted or sowed
before it can be something
that you, or anyone else,
may someday choose to look with love,
and go with it on its journey
wherever it goes.

A writer waits… a writer looks…
a writer listens… a writer finds things
in the outside world
and then takes them inside their mind
and then generates and regenerates
all that they have seen, heard, and know,
and creates something brand new –
they write a story, they make connections…
they assume and they presume,
and then they fill their time
with the fruits of their imagination,
and they give their creations
a piece of their spirit,
and in doing so they give their idea a life.

Some ideas only have the life of an instant of time;
some ideas, no matter how hard you try,
you can’t let go of;
some ideas come into being from a single sign;
some ideas look up at us from below,
and some ideas look down at us
and are just waiting for us to notice them –
like the stars that can only be seen
when the sky is black above.

Ideas are like children –
sometimes you have to keep them
behind a boundary so that they don’t run away;
ideas can sometimes be like rockets –
they take off, but they do not know where they are going;
an idea can be like a loyal dog –
if you feed them, if you give them attention
and if you show them love,
every day they will always come to you when you call them,
and when you tell them to stay they will stay;
to an artist there is no such thing as too many ideas,
because to an artist no matter how many ideas there are
there is never enough.

There are Ideas that evoke and differing and varied reactions
depending on the person who is exposed to them;
for some people, their idea’s come more during the day
than they do at night;
there are ideas that come, and then they go in a flash,
and they are never seen or thought of again;
some people always have ideas every how of the day,
and there are some people who struggle
to come up with anything creative –
however, in my opinion, though at times
for an inspiration-starving artist
it might be hard to pull anything out of the fire,
no artist should ever feel discouraged…
because just as a new days
brings a brand new sunrise,
so does a new moment bring new ideas –
though each and every idea
may have a different time of life.

My Poem ‘D.W.G.H.’

My Dad is the most caring
the most loving,
the most hard-working,
the most passionate,
the most incredible
and the most amazing man,
father, hero, Dad,
in the entire world!
My Dad has seen things,
my Dad has experienced things,
my Dad knows things
that I could never know,
or ever truly describe or put into words.
My Dad is a man of impeccable instincts;
my Dad is a man who is infinitely gifted;
my Dad is a man with the biggest
and the most open heart;
my Dad has a smile, a face,
and the bluest eyes I have ever seen in my life –
and within his eyes, many times,
I have seen a spirit and a light
that ever since I was a boy
has kept me from being afraid of the dark.

My Dad has been my greatest
inspiration and motivation
to never give up, to never stop hoping,
and to never stop working hard
at keeping what matters the most;
my Dad is not like any-other father in the world –
not only does he have a one-of-a-kind mind,
and an endless devotion and love for my Mum,
but he is also an amazing cook
and he is a master of a Sunday roast.

My Dad has taught me many things,
but I know that I could never match-up
to his shining example
of what it takes to be a great man;
my Dad has shed blood, sweat,
and tears for his family –
however, no matter all that he has been through,
he can still wear a smile
and can be to all who meet him
a wonderful and shining inspiration.

If it were not for my Dad
then I do not know who I,
nor anybody in my immediate family, would be;
if it were not for my Dad
then I would not be here –
I am the best of my father,
and my father is who brings out the best in me;
my Dad’s voice, my Dad’s laugh, brings me joy,
and my Dad’s strength is unbelievably inspiring;
my Dad has never given up
and would never give up on anything
that fills his life with happiness and joy –
and I too have been blessed with the same spark
within my soul, that flashes brighter than lightning.

There is so much more
that I could say about my amazing Dad –
but, for now, I just want to say
that I love him very much, and I want to wish
a very happy father’s day to him,
to my Dad – David William George Hastings.

DWGH-fathersdaypoem

My poem ‘A world of poetry’

People sitting in the sun;
people on the phone;
people having some time alone;
people, a family sitting down
and having a picnic for their lunch…
Birmingham, Victoria Square –
June 9th, 2016, 12.04pm…
I am sitting here
basking in sunlight
with my notebook and pen
capturing a moment of time
with words that are inspired
from this moment of inspiration…
I am looking out and seeing
every kind of person –
tourists, friends, business people,
artists, sun-worshippers, and many more –
and at every instant
I am almost blinded by fascination.

A sudden breeze decreases the temperature,
the sun becomes less intense
because of a momentary overhead cloud-cover…
a sudden realisation of time
motivates everyone to move again with a purpose…
and then another sudden burst of energy
gives everybody a gift of focus.

A falling white feather,
as if an angel had left behind a token of heaven…
I sit, I watch, I see, I feel
a wave of something indescribable engulf me…
I see, I watch, a world of poetry…
I feel connected to everything…
I feel the world moving…
I feel like I have just taken
a bite from the fruit of the first tree…
I have always known
that poetry is the world,
and the world is poetry.

My Poem ‘Masterpiece’

To me you are a masterpiece;
I was meant for you
and you are meant for me;
when I met you
an unstoppable flood was released;
the stars aligned so that we
could come to be.

I found all that I had ever wished for
and all that I had ever desired…
when I first started to get to know you
you became the first letter and the full-stop
that began and ended every sentence and every word.

When I first met you
I knew that you were the missing piece of my heart
that I had been looking for all my life;
when I first looked into your eyes
I felt like someone divine and angelic
was staring back at me;
when I first took you in my arms
it felt like day had finally begun,
where for so long before
it had felt like an endless night;
when I first kissed your lips
time stopped completely,
and those seconds of intimacy
to me felt like an infinity.

Inspiration had been the only drug
I had ever been intoxicated by
before you came into my life
and revived my failing motivation;
I remember waiting to receive
a message back from you
with overwhelming anticipation;
for the longest time
I had only one picture of you in my mind,
and even now when I look back
on that photo of you
I see the reason for my salvation;
whenever I travel, wherever I go,
it is you who is always with me
and to you is my constant destination.

Every up, every down,
everything that has happened
had a constant silver-lining
shining behind those sometimes dark clouds…
every sunrise, every sunset,
every time I would look west,
I knew that you were there –
but I didn’t know who you were yet…
however, knowing you now
and loving you more than anything,
I know that it has always been you…
I know that we are
and we always have been meant to be…
I know that you eclipse everybody else in the world,
because you are the universe’s most beautiful…
I know, and I will always know, that you are perfect –
because to me you are a masterpiece.

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‘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

Blue sky-poem

My Poem ‘The Purple Flame’

The Purple flame, the purple prince,
the purple reign, the purple spirit,
the purple light, the purple love,
the purple sight, the purple angel
who now flies free like a dove…
the purple revolutionary,
the soul, the purple poet, the purple poetry,
the purple energy flow,
the purple art, the purple artist,
the purple icon, the purple tempest…
we are all going to be basking in your glow
today and for all of the days of tomorrow…
I am imagining you right now
racing down a highway in heaven
with David Bowie and John Lennon
in a little red Corvette
against the backdrop of a purple sunset,
wearing a raspberry-coloured beret,
on your way to a place
where there is an ocean of inspiration
that is constantly being remade
by the diamond and pearl-like
droplets of purple rain.

You have left us,
but you are still here…
you have blessed us,
and we will remember you
every second that we hear
your transcendent music,
as we shed a tear…
you may be far away now,
but your message of love
still echoes all around the world…
you must be looking back at us now
through the clouds
and smiling to yourself
because you know that the magical gift of music
that you were a master of
is one of the universe’s must powerful cures.

The purple bird…
the purple fire…
the purple star…
the purple flower…
the purple dust…
the purple pulse that will always
flow back and forth through our veins
from our feet to our brains…
the purple night…
the purple day…
the purple life that we will always cherish
and we will always be in-awe of…
of the one of a kind prince of the purple flame.

Prince-thepurpleflame-date

My Poem ’35 years’

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 ‘In and Out’

Art is in my blood…
I have been making art
since before I knew that I could;
inspiration has been flooding my brain
since before I knew that I had
such a magical world within me
called “imagination”;
art is a part of everybody’s day,
but sometimes to find art’s true meaning
you have to stop looking
and allow yourself to embrace
the gift of pure-procrastination.

I believe in destiny –
which means that I believe
that everything that we all do
we do because we are meant to;
I believe in karma –
which means that I believe
that actions and intentions
have consequences,
and we should all try to focus
on the light in our life
and not the shadows
that want to pull us into the dark;
I believe in true love –
which means that I believe
that no matter who you meet and when
there is a heart out there
that you are meant to
give your all to,
that belongs to someone
who has always been meant to be with you
and has always been meant to love you;
I believe in humanity –
which means that I believe
that no matter how many differences exist right now
there will one day come a time
when we will see ourselves
in all our forms as what we are:
a masterpiece of form, function, and art.

Hope has taught me to stay optimistic,
even when I am surrounded by impossibilities;
poetry has taught me how to ride out a storm,
and to survive and understand life
through the magic of language and words;
imagination has taught me
that the number of worlds and realities out there
yet to be discovered totals in the realms of infinity;
love has taught me that the most incredible
and breath-taking adventure of a life-time
awaits everybody who has yet to be intoxicated
by the timeless obsession and addiction that has no cure.

We all breathe in,
and we all breathe out…
we all have things that we need,
and we all have people whom we could never live without…
we all feel inspired,
and we all sometimes feel pains of doubt…
but the most important thing to remember
and to act-out is to not stop feeling
and expressing ourselves,
because that is the reason that we are all born
with the senses that we are born with –
learning how to use those senses
to their fullest is what life is all about.

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My Poem ‘Too Close To The Sun’

Just like Icarus’ wings of wax,
everybody has something precious
that keeps them flying;
just like Achilles,
nobody is completely invulnerable –
even if they believe themselves
to be blessed by immortality;
just like Adam and Eve in the Bible,
there is nobody who has not looked
at something and has not been tempted
by the prospect of tasting and trying;
just as our eyes can only see
the light reflected back at us,
nobody should ever mistakenly believe
that they know or may have seen
everything that there is –
because just one step beyond the horizon,
above the clouds,
past the silver crescent of the moon,
there lies knowledge and wonders
that number into the realm of infinity,
improbability, and endless possibility.

There are times when our minds
can feel like a cave of echoes;
there are times when our memories
flash-back to life
like the lightning of a thunder-storm;
there are times when a brand new song
can be composed and heard
as the leaves of trees rustle
and as every-day objects
become instruments as the wind blows;
there are times when a heart
can be broken and then remade again
in an instant –
it is a moment that many mothers and fathers
have felt simultaneously
when they heard the first out-cry of life
from their newborn.

It is better to risk and fail
than to fail by not ever taking a risk;
it is better to take a chance
than to have your chance
at something taken away;
it is better to see what happens
than to live a life
as if ticking off things
on a check-list;
it is better to grasp
and fill a moment of time,
even if with a world of silence,
or music, than to watch a clock
tick down to the last second of the day.

Most great discoveries
are those that you have to dig for;
most great adventures began
by taking a running-jump;
most great relationships came to be
because the feelings and the connection
that you instantly felt
eclipsed all those that had come before;
most great myths were written,
and most great stories were inspired,
by those who chose to throw caution to the wing
and consciously flew too close to the sun.

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