My Poem “The Runners and Riders”

Every weekend
within the village where I live,
there is a convergence, a meeting,
a gathering of runners and riders
who, for some reason, feel drawn
to my home’s crossroads
of paths and directions…
every weekend
people of every walk of life
set out of their homes
and eventually find themselves
at the same place, at the same time,
marveling at the journey they took
to be where they are and sharing
within their conversations their
mutual appreciation of what
always makes their thoughts race
and their heart beat faster and faster.

I, myself, am a walker…
I, myself, like to stop
and literally smell the roses…
I, myself, am a daydreamer…
I, myself, like to be unbounded to idea
of exactly where I am actually going
and let fate take me where
and when it chooses.

I have been both a runner
and a rider in my time –
and I can still recall the exhilaration
that I used to feel every time
that I pushed my body to the limit
while I got to where I needed –
however, nowadays, I am more of a free spirit
who goes with the flow.


I have been someone
who has had near misses –
and if the universe had had other
plans for me then I would not
be talking to you now…
I do not know how to be any different
than who I have become as a result
of all my experiences and adventures
that I have had over my life –
every so often dancing with
the flames of fate’s fire –
which is why I always feel
a genuine kinship with all of life’s
many and varied runners and riders.

My Poem “Why?”

There is always a reason,
there is always a why,
there is always a motivation
for the myriad of actions
that people sometimes take
and for the many decisions
that people sometimes make
that they have no trouble in
being able to justify.

Where there is a spark
there will always be a flame...
where there is touch and proximity
there will always be intimacy...
where there is language
there is will always be consideration,
interpretation and loss -
because truth and reality
are not always the same...
where there is the evidence of stories
of the past there will always remain mysteries.

Myths, legacies, stories, records,
chronicles, cave paintings, rock carvings
are important depictions of a mixture
of both fiction and fact all rolled into one...
sometimes it doesn't take anything more
than someone saying that they heard
a voice tell them to do something
for them to immediately act
seemingly without thinking,
nor without a fight...
symbols, signs, warnings, lessons,
cautionary tales are vital for
any civilization to learn the merits
of what is right and what is wrong...
sometimes it takes the bravest of the brave
to stop something that they know
is going to happen before it happens -
so that some day someone won't have to
look back upon a choice that they made
and have to justify to others
and perhaps to themselves
the answer to the question: why?

My Poem “Same Language”

The language of thought
is the same as the language of light...
the language of stars
is the same as the language of life...
the language of music
is the same as the language of the soul...
the language of dance
is the same as the language
of the natural world...
the language of a sunrise
is the same as the language of eternity...
the language of a sunset
is the same as the language of gravity...
the language of connection
is the same as the language of purpose...
the language of love
is the same as the language of trust...
the truth is that there will always
be a universal language:
the language of touch -
which is more complex than
any other language in the universe
but which is inherently every other language
combined into one.

The Mark The Poet Experience – Special Episode: “Ten Years in the Life of a Poet”

To celebrate the one year anniversary of the first episode of “Mark The Poet – The Podcast”, in this episode Mark takes a poetic trip down memory lane and recites eight poems from seven of his books, including his poems: “Back to the Spark”, “The Journey”, “Through Your Fingers”, “Heart to Heart”, “Balloons”, “Light of your life”, “Words Enough and Time”, “Memento Vitae”. And Mark also reminisces about the last ten years of his journey as a writer/poet/author. You can check out hundreds of Mark’s poems, both published and unpublished, on his website: http://MarkThePoet.Me

My Poem “Gone”

No matter how much
you try to hold on to something
sometimes you lose things,
sometimes you lose people,
sometimes you lose time;
however, one day you unearth
a piece of your past
and you look at it for the first time in years,
and, to your amazement,
it does not not mean to you
what it once meant -
where before you would have
done anything to not be parted
from a particular thing,
now, all the feelings that you
once felt for something, you discover,
seem to have evaporated,
seem to have become lost,
seem to have left without you knowing -
and though, before, you might have
told yourself that you could
never live without that
particular thing in your life,
you come to find that time appears to have
helped you more than you realize
to get passed what might
have been holding you back,
because now you find it easy
to walk away from what was never meant to be,
because what once was is now gone.

My Poem “Soak it up”

Moments of contentment -
a time to breathe, a time to be...
moments of reverence -
a time to look, a time to listen,
a time to think and not to speak...
moments of openess, moments of exposure -
a time to dream, a time to imagine...
moments of both stillness and complexity -
a time without a worry in the world,
a time without four walls around you
that can at times feel like those of a prison...
moments of me, myself, and I -
a time to close to my eyes,
a time to find a treasure within my mind
that I know will transform the more
that I give it my time and my attention...
moments of heart pounding exhilaration -
a time that feels infinite,
a time that feels enough
to see all that I need to see,
to hear all that I need to hear,
to do all that I need to do
to fulfill my heart and my soul
before my last day on Earth is through -
and it is because I feel such energy
in every moment of time
that I always choose, whenever I can,
to take the time gifted to me to smile
at the light of the shining sun,
to open my arms high and wide,
and soak it up.

The Mark Hastings – Episode #5: “First Thoughts”

In this episode Mark talks about “first thoughts” – meaning the first thing that instantly comes to mind when we are asked a particular question, such as: what is your favourite film? What is your favourite book? And Mark talks about why it is also important to sometimes revisit certain things because as we live our lives our perspective on certain things can change in unforeseen ways.

The Mark Hastings Experience – Season 3, Episode #4: “Life + Death”

In this episode Mark talks about about life, death, meaning, and why it is important to talk to people – because nobody lives in a vacuum and sometimes everybody needs someone to give them a reason to carry on, especially when things can come to seem unbearable. There is always hope. No one is ever truly alone.

The Mark Hastings Experience – Season 3, Episode #1: “For the love of it”

In the first episode of “Season 3” of The Mark Hastings Experience podcast Mark talks about writing, his writing process, and he recites his new poem “For the love of it”. Check out Mark’s poem “For the love of it” @ http://MarkThePoet.Me

My Poem “For the love of it”

The best reason to do anything
is always for the love of doing something:
giving someone a smile,
asking someone how they are,
giving someone the gift of your time,
showing your appreciation to someone
for sharing a small insight into
who and what makes them just as
worthy of taking an interest in
as the nearest or the furthest of stars.

Not everybody is lucky to be able
to have a career doing what
enlivens their thoughts and makes their
heart throng like the thunder
of a lightning storm...
not everybody can do what
everybody else can do as perfectly,
proficiently, nor perhaps as poetically -
but I guarantee that when someone
is home alone, without any eyes upon them,
everybody who has ever been as
spellbound by something
as extraordinary as a magic trick
has been able to do and to mimic another person's
talent and as a result has found their
own individual hidden gift or secret accent.

Everybody has that song
that they secretly do a little dance to
when no one else is around...
everybody has that characteristic
about someone else that they
secretly admire and wish
they could embody and emulate
simply by feeling the vibration
of someone's quintessential sound...
everybody has that person,
or a small group of people,
who they believe they can
see through to the soul of
and who can return the favour
because a bond of experience
that was once forged and was destined
to always be eternally rich...
everybody has an indefinable
electric eccentricity of wonder
about them that they harbour within
that occasionally sees the light of day
when and where they have the opportunity
to be and to do whatever they want,
for no reason other than
simply for the love of it.