inspiration

My Poem ‘Psyched’

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

Every morning is a new beginning;
every time we open our eyes
we see something we have never seen before;
every time something opens our eyes wide
we all experience a sensation
that feels to us as if we are falling;
every night just before we fall asleep
every one of us psychs ourselves up
for the day that is to come –
and just as when we are a child,
the first steps that we take of anything
are as important and are as essential
as finding your balance and then walking,
or making sound and saying words
that will form the basis of talking
and sharing what you are thinking.

Whenever each of us has a task to perform,
or a thing that we must do,
each of us has to build up some kind of momentum
before we can truly move;
whenever an artist looks in front of themselves
and they see the space of a blank page,
each and every artist needs to see
an imaginary picture so that they have a guide
to follow, or the outlines of something
in between which they can colour in
with their own emotion
and individual experience colour palette
that they have been mixing together
successfully their entire lives
every single day.

Just as every artist needs a muse to inspire them,
everybody needs something or someone
to get up for and to keep them going;
just as every day, in a way,
everybody has to start again,
sometimes you just have to act on instinct
and use the power of your muscle memory
to see you through something
without any unnecessary deep-thinking.

Days must end so that others may dawn;
we all must go through darkness
so that we can appreciate the light of life;
close one door behind you
as you open another exciting new door –
and as you do, leave signposts
and suggestions for others that may follow behind you
so that you can teach what you have learned
and all that you have been taught.

For anything that you may face,
for everything that you have got to do –
do what you would do
if you had to make a high-dive:
close your eyes; take a breath;
imagine the splash,
not the jump or the fall;
and smile your widest smile
to get yourself truly psyched.

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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My Poem ‘The Doctor’

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

To be a doctor,
to be a healer,
to be a person of wisdom,
to be able to prescribe
and administer
a life-changing prescription,
has been a fantasy
and a dream of mine since I was young;
to be someone with a gift
to be able to make someone better,
to be able to make someone’s life brighter,
to be somewhere and bring everyone together,
to be a source of truth and inspiration,
while still being able to move
as if without any fear of anything
as light as a feather…

When you are a doctor of anything
you are an expert in and of and with
a specific field of expertise;
when you hear that unmistakable calling,
and when you make and you take
the most important oath
that you may ever take in your life,
it is like finding inner-peace;
when you see an injustice, an open-wound,
a problem that you look at
and instantly feel within your heart
that you may hold the cure and the solution
to make things again as they should be;
when, and if, you are the only hope
in any situation, if you are like me
then you would always choose to step forward
and race towards where you are needed the most
to help those whom are the most in need.

Healing can come in many forms;
wisdom can be heard and shown in many ways;
inspiration can be like a flash of golden light at dawn;
it could be anybody,
it could be anywhere
when that special somebody may appear
right in front of you to save the day.

Lives can be saved with care and attention;
help can be given
if you let the right person in at the right time
when they come knocking at your door;
to save one person or a hundred people
might be your life’s mission;
being there, caring;
knowing who you are;
believing that you have and are
carrying out a destiny
that is life-fulling and uplifting
is when you know that every part of you
is meant to be a doctor.

My Poem ‘Many voices inside the one’

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

Daylight is a flash of many colours;
day life is a mass of many choices;
just as a skyscraper
is a single building of many floors,
the light and the dark of the world
can only stay in balance with one another
if there is always a way and a forum
to speak, to sing, and to shout
with the tongue of many voices.

People learn more in the years
that they are a child
than they will ever learn
in the subsequent decades
that they are alive;
a child could literally grow up
to be anybody that they want;
someone who feels inspiration,
as well as sees inspiration,
in themselves and of themselves,
will be an inspiring bright light;
do not ever believe anyone
who tells you that lightning
cannot strike twice;
the people who truly lead the dance of life
do not always do so front the front.

A building must be built;
a person must grow;
every sword must have a hilt;
there must always be something
that you do not know;
a painting must be painted;
a movie must be written, acted,
filmed, edited, orchestrated, and directed;
music must be a conduit of many hearts;
to be funny, a joke –
no matter how many times it is told –
must always be one that makes everybody laugh.

Nobody can ever choose where,
nor to whom, they are born to –
however, if the history of humanity
can teach is anything
it is that birthplace and parentage
are the place, and they are the people,
from where our lives begin,
but they will never be,
nor should they ever be,
where or why our lives come to an end;
throughout our lives,
the voice that we talk and communicate with
changes depending on our ever-changing environment –
like the skin of a chameleon;
we are all somebody of many voices,
not just the one.

My Poem ‘The Light of Me’

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

The light of my eyes,
the light in my heart,
the light in my mind,
the light of my soul,
the words of my poetry,
the beautiful perfection of my muse,
the hope that I feel and see,
the rhyme, the reason,
the redemption, the revelation,
for everything that I do;
the way that I write;
the way that I walk;
the voice that is all mine;
the phenomenal and the inspiring
answer that always returns my call.

When I first began writing,
I knew that I had found my path;
when I first sat down
to write that very first verse,
it felt so natural,
and yet I was nervous;
when I first discovered
that I had something inside me
that could touch the heart of someone else,
it only made me want to feel,
think, and write more and more –
I knew that my first poem
would not and could not be my last;
when I first opened my heart
and I saw my words come to life
and grow one by one
until they become a poem
and a part of me that I loved,
I knew that my instinct
for seeing the hopeful and the good
in almost every and any situation
was one that, above every other,
I should listen to and trust.

As soon as I knew that I was a poet,
at that instant my entire world changed –
it was a perfect moment
when everything fell into place,
it was a time in and of my life
that I will never forget;
it might sound silly,
but I did not know what to do –
I did not question
my newly discovered super-power,
however it was like starting a journey
to somewhere and to something
that was to me beautifully brand new.

My thoughts changed, my feelings changed,
and I felt like a new man;
I met new people, I made new friends,
and I felt like I now had the happy thought
that would allow me to fly
with joy and excitement, like Peter Pan.
The universe opened up like a natural history book,
and so many details and secrets
that I had missed before about the world
started to pop up;
people started to speak to me
and say so much to me
with the power of a single look;
my dreams became epic adventures;
my experiences felt more profound
and worthy of being shared in poetry;
my creativity was met with love
and gratitude which alleviated
any and all of my fears;
my entire life as poet began
when I looked into a mirror,
and I saw looking back at me
was who I really was,
and what I saw was the light of me.

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My Poem ‘Art & Soul’

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

Art is personal;
art is an expression of heart;
art is life’s missing parts;
art is the signature,
the fingerprint,
the indelible footprint,
of our soul.


To me, an artist is a magician of colour
who understands the deep emotional connections
that are ever-present throughout life;
to me, a piece of art is like a timeless child;
to me, an artist is a wizard of light;
to me, art should be seen, embraced, felt,
and it should call to you –
like the roar of a lion in the wild.


The epic mountains, the vast valleys,
the beautiful shores and seafloors of Earth,
are like a piece of one of a kind
natural sculpture –
and the time that was taken
to create and sculpt such masterpieces
was worth every second of every century;
the art painted on every cave
that still remains, and will always remain,
on the cave walls on which they were painted
are landmarks of human evolution
and creativity that are more extraordinary
than words could ever describe –
because, to me, they are proof
that not only were our ancestors
masters of hunting, gathering, and surviving,
but that they were also communicators,
dreamers and thinkers,
and curators of compelling
and powerfully evocative artistry.


Art has been a love of mine since I was a child;
even at a young age, expressing myself
with pencils, pens, colour, and paint,
was my way of letting my imagination go wild;
artists, to me, as a child, were like lords of time
who could capture a moment at its most inspiring
on a canvas that was always deeper
than it appears when seen from the side;
the moment that I first saw
Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’,
I looked into her eyes
and I instantly started to smile.

Whenever I go to an art gallery, or art exhibition;
whenever I look to the landscape of the horizon,
at any time of the day, no matter where I am,
I see art that is beautiful;
whenever I see something artistic
that somebody has made and created,
everything about me vigorously vibrates
with voracious energy and inspiration;
whenever I see art –
be it a Michelangelo, an Andy Warhol,
a vace of Sunflowers or a Starry Night
by Vincent can Gogh –
I want to make my own art
and express the emotions that I feel
about what I see, in words of poetry
from my heart of art and soul.



					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The Outer Limits’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Ever since the first astronomers of Earth

looked up at the sky to the stars and the planets,

humanity has been asking questions of themselves

about their relevance and about just how rare

and important they are within the universe;

humanity has been searching the galaxy and beyond

for a signal from another galactic inhabitant,

and even to this day there are those

who openly proclaim that because we have not yet

made contact with another form of intelligent life

in the Milky Way that we are the superior species

to be found anywhere, and that Earth is and could only be

the only inhabited world.

When I look above, I can almost hear the call

of a fellow interstellar searcher

and the beating heart of a fellow poet of the stars

being inspired by their muse

and taken away in mind, spirit, and soul,

to their imagination outer-limit.


We here on Earth know only too well

that feeling of awe and intrigue

that we feel when we see photographs

being returned to Earth from man-made probes

of distant worlds – that we have all known about

and heard about, but which have never been seen before;

we all experience sheer breathtaking amazement

whenever something happens above us and around us

that may only happen once in a lifetime;

when we watch a rocket launch,

or when we witness the first footsteps

and impressions made by someone or something

on an unknown and undiscovered brand new land,

we all return to the memory of when we were a child

making an airplane out of folded paper

and watching it be carried on the wind, and sour;

we, I, always go ten steps beyond

when the thought of what and who could be out there,

in the dark, on their own planet, imagining us,

as we imagine them, and what just the knowledge

of each others’ existence would mean

and would do to the thoughts

and to the dreams of the others’ mind.


Every form of life is special and unique;

every planet orbiting around every star

is like the integral and unmissable

musical notes of a galactic symphony

that have their own vibration and sound to them,

that when heard playing with the rest

of the interstellar musical instruments and keys,

as well as on their own, sound nothing short of perfect;

everything that happens in space

is always a spectacle to us all here on Earth,

even if it is the sight of a fly-by by a passing comet.


Being a poet, I naturally look at life

and the universe slightly differently

to how someone else might see it –

however, I believe that everyone can see

inspiring wonders and they can be inspired

to take a trip of discovery

into an exciting new frontier,

and explore the amazing mysteries and questions

that drive us all when and if

we choose to step into the realm

of the outer limits.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘The White Rabbit’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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I sometimes feel like

I am akin to the white rabbit of Wonderland;

I almost always find myself late,

because even in my mind

I am always rushing off to somewhere;

I sometimes feel like I am in an hour-glass

being slowly rained on by a constant dusting

of falling grains of sand;

I sometimes struggle to know

when to go and when to stop and wait;

as I watch time tick by,

like the hands of a clock,

I am very rarely seen standing still –

when I am writing,

when I am talking,

when I am thinking,

are the most likely of times

that you will ever see me motionless,

and even then, my muscles are on the move –

in some way, shape, or form –

and, to be honest, for me to be in any way

like a statue I would have to be ill.


Some things do take time

to fully come to fruition;

some things can happen

and must only happen in the moment;

some things that are what they are

are driven by emotion;

some things are so important to us

their effect on us is incredibly potent.


I have learned over time

that you have to follow your heart;

I have always looked for the rabbit hole

to the unknown, and ran down it at full-speed

without any thought of stopping myself, or looking back;

I have always been enamored by every sentence

that I have read that has ever ended

with a question mark;

I have always considered every opportunity

as if it were a doorway to somewhere

that is so full of inspiration and wonder

it would and will always be impossible

to ever pin-point the location

of everything there on any kind of map.


I have always believed

that there is no such thing as coincidence;

I have proof that every thing

and every person comes into your life

and is a part of your life for a reason;

I have vowed to myself to never stop

doing what I do, and to will keep going –

to keep walking through every open door,

and to keep jumping over every fence;

I have watched people leave others behind

when they feel like they have to

if they want to have the thing that they most desire –

I, however, do not give up on people

or on anything that matters to me lightly,

and if I could I would be there

when and where I am wanted and needed

for those who need me

through all the colours and shades of every season.


Anything can last forever,

if you don’t give up on it

and if you don’t forget it;

while you are looking around

and taking in life and your surroundings,

try to see the signs that you should follow,

if you want to experience

your eyes being opened wide

by a thought as amazing

and as dazzling as a bright light;

the things that may happen to you

if you choose to sometimes not worry

about all the things that could happen,

and if you learn to grasp the secret of everything:

that everything happens all at once,

and that the past, the present,

and the future are all one and the same –

and, if and when you do, that is when life

will feel even more beautiful and epic…

so, make sure you look around from time to time –

so that you may see, and perhaps choose to follow,

you own personal, life-defining and enlightening,

white rabbit.

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Get Up and Go!’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Whenever I wake up

and I feel the warmth of the sun on my face,

whenever I hear the sound

of birds singing sweetly outside my window,

whenever I open my eyes and I see my home

and the perfect oasis of the human race,

I always feel invigorated with inspiration

and energy, and I always feel this irrepressible need

to get up out of bed, walk out my front door,

pick a direction, and just go!


It’s great to have something planned to do –

however, I always find it more exciting and fun

to not plan too much, and instead just go with the flow;

it’s great to have something to look forward to,

but I always say that you should never worry

too much about the finer details of something –

because if you let things happen naturally,

amazing things can happen and will happen,

one after the other,

like a line of dominoes falling in a row.


If you are lucky enough to live near a beach,

then every morning the soft sand,

or the infinite pebbles, of that beach

should always be your first port of call –

because to be able to walk the shoreline

and hear the sound of the waves crashing near me

would be unquestionably amazing and incredibly beautiful.


I have always believed that the way that you wake up

will always inform what kind of day you will have;

I have always believed that no matter what happens

you should always start your day with a smile –

to the world, to someone, to yourself –

and whatever you do just do your best

to ride all the ups and downs of the worlds waves.


The thought of surfing in the morning;

the feeling of sitting somewhere tranquil and gorgeous,

and opening my mind up to everything,

and not even thinking too much…

just living, breathing, seeing, dreaming, and writing;

the thought of running along the wooden boards of a pier

and then reaching the end and diving off into the ocean;

the feeling of the perfect sea-breeze

blowing through my hair would make me want

to live intensely to the extreme of every emotion.


It is never too early;

it is never too late;

you are never too old or too young to run free,

or maybe even climb a tree;

you can do anything that you can put your mind to,

if you leap and keep moving

with every beat of your heart;

sunsets are meant to be seen;

memories are just waiting to be made;

knowledge is just waiting to be known;

life can be lived as if it were a dream;

if you enjoy every and any ride that you find yourself on –

then you might perhaps find yourself

face to face with someone who needs to be saved;

so if and when you ever feel

an energy within you start to grow,

run towards the light,

feel carried as if on a great wave,

and embrace the rush

of your inner get up and go!

					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
My Poem ‘Imagine like Lennon’

								

								 Mark Hastings
															Poetry					
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Dreamers never stop dreaming,

dreamers take great comfort

and they feel great joy

in the knowledge

that they are not the only ones;

imagineers never stop imagining,

and because their thoughts,

dreams, and hopes never stop coming

and flowing, miraculous new discoveries

and ideas come to light

and are allowed to shine

all over the world on the eyes

and from the hearts of countless people,

as if they were new born stars and suns.


An artist in an artist from birth;

a storyteller is a reader of other stories

by other writers, who has always felt

compelled to create stories of their own

and take people on a journey;

many artists have sought inspiration from above,

like the first drop of rain

that began all the oceans of Earth;

to be who you are meant to be in all walks of life,

and in all stages of creativity and evolution,

everybody must be able to just be.


There is a moment, there is a spark,

there is a light, that brightens the dark,

there is an instant of change,

there is a time to step back

and rethink and reinvent,

there is sometimes one perfect expression

that is beyond any and all words

that could ever fill a single page;

there must be a world within you

where you can go to that is even more

limitless and boundless than the universe,

where your inner identity can run free;

there must be an outlet for you to do what you know;

there is always someone who has a great many things

in common with you, in any and every direction

to every degree;

there is always a side to you

that you cannot completely show.


Being a poet is like being a player

of an imaginary instrument

that only you have the knowledge

and the gift to be able to play

as exquisitely as it can possibly be played;

musicians of physical instruments

are able to play their music

and give rise to vibrations

that literally can touch and speak

to the blood, the heart-beats,

and the very core and source of who someone is;

if some things were tangible,

instead of being unbelievably fragile,

and if not everything that meant the most

was not sometimes a struggle,

then there would always be something missing –

however, that is often the case

when choosing a course that is the most

untroublesome and easy;

to dare to dream is to take a chance on a risk.


Heroes are important;

music is a miracle;

every experience is a lesson;

you cannot always have, or get, what you want;

life is too phenomenal to shut yourself away from it –

to enjoy living to the fullest is essential;

greatness cannot be attained alone,

nor can you know or call yourself great –

those who truly know us are the only ones

who can describe us and tell us who we are;

to me, music is where inspiration lives

how we are all supposed to live;

to me, music is heaven, and anyone and everyone

who can feel the meaning of music

deep inside them knows how life-changing

and world-changing it is in all its infinite forms;

and that is why music is so important to me –

because it inspires me to dream like Dylan,

to think like Einstein,

and to imagine like Lennon.