life

My Poem ‘I’m Predictable’

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

Some things come back-around…
some things are cyclical…
some things sometimes rebound…
some things and some people
are innately predictable…
take me, for example:
I go to the same places,
I do the same things,
I order the same drinks,
I listen to the same songs,
as I have done so for years –
you could say that
I have found “my groove”
and what I take great pleasure in doing?
But the thing that binds
all the things that I do
when I am out and about
walking the streets and seeing the sights
of the city that I visit the most frequently
and the one that I know more than any-other,
is my writing: the poetry, the short-stories,
the inspiration, the musings of life
that I have written – that in themselves
tell a story of their own and of their connection
to me and why I wrote them.

I admit it, I do things…
I say things… I think about things…
I write about things that people
who know me for what I do
may consider what I do my signature?
My identity? My tag? My trademark?
However, though some things
will never change about me,
there is always the possibility
that I will do something unexpected
and out of the ordinary!

I will always return to the same places…
I will always read the same books
of the same authors…
I will always watch the same
types of TV shows and movies…
I will always listen to
my favourite artists
and the music that they make…
I will always be the same person
who is writing what you are reading –
because, the fact of the matter is
that I, like most people,
am wonderfully predictable.

My Poem ‘Welcome Back’

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

It’s been a long time
since I thought like a poet,
or wrote a rhyme…
I didn’t know if
I would be able to do it again,
when I opened my notebook
and I picked up my pen.

I have been enjoying life
living every day surrounded by love,
but now I am traveling
into the morning light
and flying like a dove…
an island on the other side
of the Atlantic Ocean is calling:
I am going back home
to where the temperature is low
and snowflakes are falling.

I don’t want to leave where my journey began –
I am happy to see my family again,
but I am truly sad to be leaving
the love of my life and my second family…
I can still see the last face I saw
before I left America behind for a while,
I can still see in my mind
the house that has been my home
for two weeks, or more,
that has the family name
hanging over it of “Dial”.

Once in a life-time memories made,
but now I am flying on a plane
to the land of Shakespeare,
red TELEPHONE boxes,
green-fields, and The Beatles…
in 10 hours, I will be back home in England –
however, already I feel a sensation
of ‘butterflies’, and pins-and-needles.

My mind is always in the rear-view mirror,
I am always reliving in my mind
moments that other people
might think too small
and too brief to be remembered…
when I left the U.S. tears fell down my cheeks –
whenever I have to make a difficult leap
it is always hard for me to know
what to say and how to speak –
however, though time has gone by too fast,
I know that this time will not be my last,
being where I think about every hour of the day,
with those whom cannot wait to see me again
and wish me a heart-felt ‘Welcome back!’

My Poem ‘Crescendo (Happy New Year)’

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

As one important door closes,
another important door opens…
as one year ends,
as one journey reaches its climax…
another year, another journey begins…
as one world sleeps, another world awakens –
and the cycle of life begins again,
similar and yet brand new…
as one sky becomes filled with twinkling stars,
another sky is as bright as can be
breathtaking and blue.

This is real life…
this is the song of day and night…
this is the orbit of the human soul –
just like the moon spinning around the Earth,
just like the Earth spinning around the sun,
just like the sun spinning
on the outer-edge of our galaxy.

Lights go out in the universe
every second of every day,
but we do not see them until it is too late –
however, it is never too late
to mourn the passing of something, or someone,
whomever, or wherever they are,
with a thought, with a song,
with a simple-but-meaningful verse of poetry.

Time passes into darkness too quickly…
stars shine, they burn bright –
and then, like everything and everyone,
there comes a day when they die…
memories remain, everything and everyone
continue to live on,
and it is a long time before something
or someone’s spirit actually leaves…
there is nothing worse than letting go of something –
however, the parting of ways with something
is not the same as saying goodbye.

Within the blink of an eye…
within the time that it takes for you to realize
what your life has all been about
and what you leave behind,
you see a shadow fall within your mind…
every second, every minute, every hour, every day,
every year, of every moment of time
are all the same and are all connected like a chain –
one leading to another, over and over,
and continuing in one direction: forwards –
no matter if you feel like you are living in the past,
there is always a brand new miracle
that the universe wants to show you…
life is a precious and beautiful piece of music
that never stops growing, evolving, and building
into the most epic of all crescendos.

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My Poem ‘Winging It’

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

Leaving home…
leaving your comfort-zone…
looking up to the sky…
extending your wings, preparing to fly…
only one place, only one destination in mind…
soon to pass in front of the moon
and rocket as fast as you can
to the land of the free,
and for a while leave your home behind.

You travel light, you travel alone…
you travel morning to night,
and night to morning…
you travel, because you have heard a calling…
you travel, and as you do
you live a dream.

Certain days in our life are like landmarks
that we anchor ourselves to…
certain days – like birthdays, Christmas,
New Years Day – keep us grounded and reminded
of the important things in life…
certain days in our life
remind us of days gone by –
even though they are completely brand new…
certain days continue to shine all our lives
with the beauty and the intensity of heaven’s light.

Like in Peter Pan, it is your happiest of thoughts
that elevates you and allows you to rise above…
like your soulmate’s smile,
it is their breathtaking beauty
and the feelings that they stimulate in you
that makes your heart glow like a star in your chest
which is the epitome of all that you love…
until you have felt the freedom
of being unbounded by gravity
only then can you know what it is like
to be an astronaut floating in space…
for some people, flying is something
that they get to do every-day –
and, personally, I can think of nothing more amazing
than being intertwined with the palpable energy
of the indescribable that never ceases
to put a smile on every face.

I think that there should be more
astronauts who are poets…
I think that there should be more
travelers who rely on their instincts…
I think that there should be more
gateways to new frontiers, rather than fences…
I think that there should be more
people who would do whatever it takes
to helps others to see and understand
what it means to be truly alive…
I think that making plans is a great thing to do –
however, in my opinion, in my experience,
sometimes you just have to let things happen
naturally and grow out of the moment –
in other words: sometimes in life
it is best to not worry about what you don’t know,
and take a leap into the unknown,
and until you know what you are doing
just do what I do regularly:
get busy at winging it!

My Poem ‘Christmases’

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

Christmas is about family…
Christmas is about sharing…
Christmas is about being happy…
Christmas is about giving.

It’s Christmas time,
it’s Christmas day…
it is now when we celebrate
with presents, prayers,
mistletoe and wine…
it is now when people
the world-over are the most thankful
for what and whom is in their life
every hour of every day.

Christmas is about love…
Christmas is about thinking about others…
Christmas is about spreading a message of hope…
Christmas is about bringing everybody together…
Christmas is my favourite time of the year…
Christmas is a season, and its meaning
all culminates on one day, the 25th of December.

Christmas is about sharing how beautiful
life could be for everybody
if we opened our hearts more…
Christmas is about peace,
and if there is one gift
that Christmas should give us all
it is the understanding
that we as a species, as a world, as a planet,
are meant to live and breath
all the world’s differences and celebrate them –
because we were not born
to fight one-another, or wage war.

Christmas is about traditions…
Christmas is about symbols…
Christmas is about wishes…
Christmas is about angels…
it is so important to always keep alive
the Christmas spirit –
from childhood to adulthood…
it is so important that children
make lists and send them to Santa Claus…
it is so important to show
how much someone means to you –
even the smallest of gestures
of kindness is always enough…
it is so important to let
the ice of hostility thaw –
because feeling blessed to be alive and well,
and being thankful for the precious time
that we have, and whom we spend our time with,
highlights beautifully what
the true meaning of Christmas is.

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My Poem ‘The Rogue One’

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

They walk alone…
they walk a line…
it has never interested them
to be one of a crowd…
it has never been a dream of theirs
to be like everybody else…
they don’t need much in their life,
except their family and their loves-ones…
they don’t think like everyone else
around them – they never have, they never will –
because they are not supposed to…
like most people, they are content
doing what they love to do
in the place where they always feel
the most comfortable and content…
they don’t need to be constantly moving on
to the thing that is the most new…
they learn from the events of the past…
they have hope for the future –
but, more than anything,
they try to live and breath,
to embrace and to be inspired
by everything and every moment
that is their present…
most of the time they swim alone
through the ocean of life,
like a Great White…
everyday they are like a ghost-writer
writing a silent story…
every time they see people
wearing clothes and walking around
to the same beat, and just swimming along
with other people who all look exactly alike,
they sometimes feel like they are surrounded
by an army of clones…
when they see people taking advantage
of other people, they feel like
they want to explode…
they, like many others, have never believed
in the idea of an undefeatable-enemy…
the force of life teaches us all
that sometimes things change –
and when they do, after which,
nothing will ever be the same…
life is like a song, a story, a play,
a movie, a poem – it has a beginning,
it has a middle, it has an end…
however, unlike a story
with a deliberate structure of acts,
life and plans can change
their form by the second…
life is a cycle –
and it begins and it ends at the same place,
and in that way we are all characters
and pieces on the board
of the most epic of all board-games…
they are a patient person…
they have seen what happens to those
who do not listen to their instincts
before they leap into something
without even a thought –
but, they know that
there are times when you have to
let your heart be your guide,
and you need to close your eyes,
and take a running-jump…
because life is about finding balance –
most of the time it is not about
being the best at something,
or being the one with the loudest voice,
or the biggest gun –
to them, we are all a part of this world
to be our parents’ daughter or son…
to be uniquely ourselves…
to be one of the “rogue ones”.

My Poem ‘Draw’

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

Everyone has instincts…
everybody has to learn
how to react, and when…
everyone makes links…
everybody has to learn
how to use their god-given gifts –
whether it be a gift with their mind,
with their feet, with their hands on a steering-wheel,
with their fingers on keys
or on the strings of a musical-instrument,
or by connecting their heart, soul,
and their dexterity to create a piece of art
with a brush or a pen…
inspiration sometimes comes
from the most remote and random of places –
however, true beauty, to me,
true love can only come from one face…
what draws one person to another
is sometimes hard to fathom –
most of the time it is what and who we see
upon first-sight and it is a physical-attraction;
however, there is more to life than the physical…
there is more to life than what you can see…
there is more to someone that makes them beautiful…
there is more that makes the world what it is
than could ever be believed…
some things are tangible, but most things
are felt with another kind of ‘touch’…
some things can be simplified and described,
but some of the most important things in life
no words – at least to me – could ever be enough…
one example of a boundless, spiritual,
powerful, life-changing, magic that can fill
a person’s heart, soul, mind, and body
to overflow is the most phenomenal
of all energy in the universe: love –
and once you have found ‘The One’
who gives your life meaning every day
feels as energizing as feeling a burst
of brilliant starlight from the sun above…
nobody knows what their calling will be,
nor when it will come –
but when you know it for what it is
you will feel like you are momentarily
floating free off of the ground,
it will be like gravity is no more –
and once you feel what comes next,
nothing and nobody will be able
to stop what rises from the moment
that you feel that indescribable draw.

My Poem ‘A Gift of My Heart’

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

My Angel, my world, my love, my light,
my heart, my soul, my day, my night,
the muse of my poetry, the magic of my dreams,
the best thing that has ever happened to me,
the one person in the entire world
who gives my life meaning,
my sun, my moon, my obsession,
my addiction, my best-friend,
I truly, madly, and deeply love you
more than you could ever know, Melissa.

I spend every minute of every day thinking about you,
imagining the perfection of your beautiful face,
looking into your eyes, holding your hands,
kissing your lips, feeling your heart beating with mine,
living and breathing as-one, forever and always,
loving each-other, making memories,
holding each-other and never letting go,
giving one-another all that we have to give.

You care so much, you love so deeply,
you make me smile and you make me so happy,
and every day with you in my life
has been the best days of my life,
and I never want to be without you,
because I see, I know, I feel,
that within you the divine light of heaven shines bright,
and every day I cherish you
and I want to give you gifts of my heart-
as if every day were Valentines day,
Christmas day, or your birthday,
from night until day and from day until night.

My Poem ‘Finding Serenity’

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

I once followed the light of a Firefly,
and when I watched it
until its last second of life
something happened, something amazing…
the light of the Firefly went out,
but then the Firefly was reborn into Serenity –
and now it will live forever in my heart,
and in the hearts of many…
all those who were caught in the Firefly’s wake…
as it flew, as it soared,
as it became something close to people’s heart.

Firefly meant something special,
and it always will…
Firefly was like nothing else
that anybody had ever seen –
because it was unique,
because it was not afraid to be itself,
because it gave us all a vision of something magical:
a world that was shiny and beautiful
filled with different people, from all walks of life,
all working together, who all believe
in the power of the impossible,
and that believing in one-another
is what makes them mighty.

The Firefly continues to fly,
and now it is a star in the night-sky…
Serenity is always there to be found
right where you left it –
like a book on a shelf;
it is so sad to see someone’s spirit
leave this world –
I know that life is precious
and that we are only here for a short time,
but it is the thought that you
will never see the like of certain people again
that hurts the most;
everybody looks for something,
for someone, for some reason,
and what we all seek is out there
waiting for us to find it…
sometimes it can be something
as subtle as a song, an experience, a feeling,
or a verse of poetry…
if you keep going, if you keep looking,
and if you don’t stop believing
that you are going to find
what you are looking for –
then, maybe, you can be like me,
and you can be lucky enough
to have found Serenity.

In memory of Ron Glass

My Poem ‘The Lightning Conductor’

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

Life is an epic symphony…
life has a melody and a rhythm,
and a reason to be…
life is a series of rises and falls…
life has an air to it –
sometimes there is blue-sky and sunshine,
sometimes there are clouds, rain, thunder-storms…
life, in all its forms, is a work-in-progress
masterpiece, written, imagined, interpreted,
and conducted by a thunderous
and powerful conductor.

All things were created to work
in-concert with one-another –
but sometimes what that means
and how to put that message into practice
is interpreted in many different ways,
by many different people all over the world,
and it has been for all the centuries
of human existence;
everybody and every-one
are all individual players
of the same orchestra –
each playing their individual instruments
that they are gifted to play
and are destined to use
to both speak and listen;
all music has a composer –
it is not accidental that a musician
comes up with a sound, brings it to life,
and then they play it for all the world to hear;
every artist gifted in imagining inspiration,
visually or in an auditory-form,
is doing something that when it reaches
its true-potential can leave somebody
breathless, speechless,
captivated, and in-awe.

It was once thought that only the gods
of myth and legend could call-upon
and harness the forces of nature
and bend them to their will –
however, in my experience,
there are more forces of nature
than most people can name,
because in times gone by
“magic” was the word used
to describe some of these forces,
because they do not conform
with nature’s laws;
I am here to set the record straight,
and to say that lightning, energy,
sunlight, electricity, inspiration,
is not just a gift sent to us from the heavens –
I know this, because I feel, I touch, I live,
I interpret, I thrive, and I am kept alive
by a life-force that instantly strikes me
over and over again,
and every time it changes me a little,
and when it does I conduct my own movements
and I give others a reason to go on a journey
that they may never have thought to take before…
as I compose my own music,
while playing the music of the divine maestro,
and while being conducted
by life’s lightning conductor.