My Poem “Quotes”

“I have always loved reading quotes,
I have always loved sharing quotes,
I have always loved the way that
something that someone once said
is captured, written down,
and recorded for posterity,
because what someone in particular
said at a particular time
captured the attention and the imagination
of someone, got inside them,
and changed them profoundly –
sometimes to the degree that the words
that someone once uttered,
perhaps just in passing,
struck something deep inside
and grew to become their life-long motto
and the words that they daily live by.

The right quote, at the right time,
can be a powerful thing…
the right words, said by the right person,
when someone is sorely in need of wisdom
can be like rocket-fuel for the mind…
the right insight from the first-hand
experience of another person can be like
a parachute for someone – allowing them
to gently glide back down to Earth
from a place high above the ground –
when they feel like they are falling through life,
and it can create metaphysical wings
to make a person believe that they are soaring…
the right collection of interconnected letters
and words can reveal so much about
what is going on within a person’s mind
that they sometimes find that they have to hide
from everybody observing them on the outside.

Quotes are amazing to me,
because they are like gold nuggets of wisdom
and inspiration that people sometimes find
when they are sifting through
the fast-moving stream of life…
magical rainbows of colour and depth
that show themselves after a rain-storm
of uncertainty and unpredictability
that are brought to light when the right
conditions present themselves
and beauty arises and when truth
and nature come into alignment.

The best quotes ever captured
are poetic in so many ways –
and usually more so than the speaker
who was the source was ever conscious of
when they said them…
when I read something, when I hear something,
when I feel something in something
that someone else has said,
it is always impossible for me
to not be affected by it –
especially if what I have read, what I have heard,
what I have felt was something that
instantly and immediately had an impact on me…
to me some of the most inspiring words of wisdom
that still haunt the world
are the true ghosts and the real spirits
of people who may have long-since passed on,
but who will live on forever
through their poignant, timeless,
and immortal quotes.”

-Mark Hastings, 2019

My Poem “Catharsis”

Whatever you internalize,
whatever you take in,
whatever you analyze,
whatever you hear,
whatever you taste,
whatever you touch,
whatever you see –
especially if it is something
that challenges you in some way –
at some point, ultimately,
has to be released and set free…
that is why art – poetry, painting,
drawing, movies, television, books,
theatre, carpentry, comedy, music –
is so important to society,
because it gives us an excuse
to externalize our inner thoughts and feelings.

Expression can be powerful…
creation can be trans-formative…
exposure to things can be inspirational…
discovering who you are and who you want to be
can define how, where, when,
and with whom you want live…
sometimes you only have an inkling
about what is bubbling away inside of you,
below the surface of your day to day thoughts –
and it is only at moments when your internal
defenses and barriers have been lowered enough
when what is within you is allowed to come out…
there is something evocative about
watching something being performed live –
like watching an artist or a band
let their art and their distinctive
sound and voice speak for itself –
that just overtakes you, consumes you,
and makes you do things and say things
that you would not ordinarily do.

The only way to find the answer
to a question is to ask it…
the only way to discover the truth
of something is to explore it…
the only way to get through life
is to live it, to fight for it,
to embrace it, to worship it,
to take chances, to take risks…
the only way to be is to be a poet –
because a poet lives every day
a life of reflection, of contemplation,
of inflection, of internalization,
of externalization, of expression,
of liberation and catharsis.

My Poem “Rings”

Rings are a symbol of love…
Rings are a symbol of eternity…
Rings made up of tiny particles
can be seen encircling
the mighty gas-giants
of our solar system
and have been doing so for generations…
Rings are a promise…
Rings are an oath…
Rings are a truth and an unending
bond shared that should not
be taken for granted…
Rings of engagement, Rings of marriage,
Rings mean something profound
to those who understand
and value the symbol of forever
that should not be broken…
A Ring can give meaning…
A Ring can give purpose…
A Ring can give its wearer power…
A Ring given to someone by their lover
can make them happier than they have ever been…
Rings made of every type of metal
have been worn for centuries
and they have come to symbolize
many different things –
however, when I think of a ring,
and what a ring means to me,
it symbolizes completion,
protection, a union of hearts, minds,
bodies, and souls connected
in so many different ways…
Life is a cycle… galaxies of stars spin
with black-holes at the centre of them…
planets orbit their stars…
moons orbit their parent planets…
The universe is a system
of concentric Rings around Rings
around Rings around Rings –
Rings are everywhere you look…
Rings are what give meaning to everything.

My Poem “Throwback”

Every day, I look at things,
I look at people, I look at places,
and in my mind I am thrown back in time…
Every day I am reminded about
some of the things I have done,
some of the people I have met,
some of the places I have visited,
and what always follows
is an intoxication of memories,
feelings, colours, that rise
to the surface – like the bubbles
of a glass of wine…
every day, I read things that I have written,
I remember what I did and with whom,
and I am overcome with a wave of déjà vu
that floods my thoughts with
echoes of what came before
and what I had compartmentalized…
every day, I hold on tight to who
and what means the most to me
and I try to remember every detail
of everything as accurately as I can,
while trying to correct for
Mandela Effect – which is a
prime example of how sometimes
our own memories can play tricks on us
and even blatantly make things up…
every day, something new happens to all of us –
even if we don’t realize it…
every day something new becomes
the inspiration for an explorer,
a storyteller, a musician,
a dreamer, a poet, that has such
a phenomenal and an amazing
effect that the aftershocks
from the revelations – that feel
like the tectonic shifts
that you can physically feel
when the Earth moves beneath you –
continue to influence you
in everything that you commit to afterwards…
the past, the present, the future,
the outside, the inside,
the old, the new, would not be what they are
and they would not mean what they do
without our own personal perspective…
the world is built upon things
and moments that are not meant to last –
however, if it were not for
all of the things that we sometimes lose,
all of the things that we leave behind,
and all of the things that are not meant
to last then we would never know
the true meaning, nor experience
the incredible power, of moments of nostalgia,
gratitude, and reflection from something
that can serve as a wormhole back in time
through which we can cast our mind’s eye
upon something in particular:
a throwback to an earlier time in our life.

My Poem “Night-Shift”

You can see more things
that make people tick,
you can see a completely
different way of life,
you can learn more about
how people live,
you can find out so much
about the world when
the sun has gone down
and the dark veil of the night-sky
both descends and rises –
especially if you work somewhere
and you are constantly
seeing people come and go:
whether it is a place where people meet,
like a coffee shop or a bar, or somewhere where people
go to get well like a hospital…
people who work a night-shift
sometimes see more than people
working a day-shift do…
it seems to me that you see more
about what makes humanity who and what it is
when you see them at their most vulnerable –
when their judgement and when their preconceptions
are impaired, and they are able to relax into
an experience with people who they
want to be around…
some people who work a night-shift
see the highest of highs and the lowest of lows –
they see and they encounter people
who have chosen to do things
that they knew would cause themselves
or others a great deal of harm…
some people see things,
some people hear things,
some people feel things at night
that sometimes follow them into their dreams
and haunt the hours of the day when they are awake…
some people actually like working
when everybody else in the surrounding area
is normally sleeping…
some people actually enjoy the job that they do
and their fellow “night-owls” that they work with…
some people working during the night
and encountering all the drives, vices,
and the people who choose to live their lives
under the shine of moonlight
rather than the golden halo of sunlight
is what gives them a reason to keep living…
for some people there is no other time
that they feel more alive
and are the most active
than while witnessing the constantly
revolving door of new faces
and unexpected occurrences that show
themselves and arise while they are
working on a night-shift.

“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium; and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is on a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.”

-Martha Graham

My Poem “Never Stop Reaching”

Most dreamers, most writers,
most artists, like me,
often reach beyond what they know
in order to imagine, to see,
and to understand things
that they do not know,
have never experienced,
and have never seen –
sometimes you just have to,
sometimes you just have to
take a leap of imagination
into another world
equipped with as much knowledge
and first-hand accounts from people
who have been through
what you want to say
and let what you have heard
play out throughout your mind
and be interpreted with your own
internal voice and your artistic echo chamber,
and then share with your own
artistic license in the way
that a poet does…
no two people will have
the exact same thing to say about the same something –
unless they are experiencing a moment
of true and unfiltered synchronicity –
because, most of the time,
our memories and our experiences
have their own unique and predetermined
say on how we will personally
react to a given situation…
everybody finds their own truth
in their own time…
everybody finds their own gifts
in their own way…
everybody finds their own identity
in the mirror the more that they
find people who inspire them
and give them an answer to
what and why they are who they are
and how they should be living their life…
everybody finds their own discipline to practice,
their own doctrine to follow,
their own natural medicine to heal their own
unseen scars, the more that they
make strides down paths
that they do not know the end of…
everybody who is adventurous
is like a child – no matter how old they are –
because they know that sometimes
you have to reach the edge of something,
sometimes you have to leap
into the unknown without thinking,
and no matter what you are doing
you should never stop reaching.

My Poem “Good Omens”

The sun was shining
when I woke up this morning,
but as time went by
the clouds began to gather
and the raindrops started to fall…
it had been raining for days –
but I actually believed
that today would be the day
when spring would finally begin
and everybody could once again
enjoy the experience of walking tall
under the light of the sun
that has always been somewhat
of a universal draw…
just as I and everybody
had come to the conclusion
that the end of time was upon us
and that it was potentially
going to rain for another
forty days and forty nights, or more,
spontaneously a bright burst of sunlight
parted the dark clouds
and shined down from above –
like witnessing a miracle happening,
or like watching a thought,
an idea, or a dreaming coming true…
as soon as everybody saw the sun shining
and usher in a bright blue sky almost immediately,
I instantly saw smiles appear on people’s faces
and the clouds above people’s heads lift –
as if the sunlight that everybody had witnessed
inspired a feeling of hope and optimism,
and a definitive change in the collective mood…
it’s amazing what the gift of sunlight can do…
it’s incredible to watch wet paths
and deep puddles of water evaporate
before your eyes and make
even the most shy of people
want to laugh and sing…
it is breathtaking to see something –
that may seem random to someone else –
and to interpret it as if it were
a sign of a higher power
and a reminder to always expect the unexpected…
even when all that you hear
and all that you see makes your mind
wander to all the things in the world
that make people dwell upon
the fear of the doom and gloom
that seeks to cast a shadow over the world –
like when the sun is obscured by the moon –
it is always important to think,
to hope for, and to look for all
the positive lights that are there to be found,
even on a morning of dark clouds and raindrops
you can find small, but significant, good omens.

My Poem “It’s all relative”

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.