light

My Poem “The Blackout”

Mark Hastings life, lost, me, Poetry , , , , , , , , ,

One second there was light
and the next there was darkness…
One second all was bright
and the next I couldn’t see
my hand in front of my face…
One second I was looking at
my phones illuminated screen
and the next I was using the torch
of my phone to guide my way…
One second the sun was shining
and the next it had completely
disappeared below the horizon
heralding the end of the day.

I still remember those days
and those nights when I was a child
when the power used to go out
every now and again –
but whenever it happens now
it is always a complete and utter surprise
to the degree that some people
still attempt to flick light-switches
on and off multiple times
perhaps believing that they can cause
somekind of electrical reset.

It’s strange looking out of the window
at night and seeing all the streetlights off…
it’s odd having no power, no light,
and no heat for a short amount of time –
but such an experience does make you truly appreciate how much we all
do sometimes take for granted
the gift of instant electricity,
and how much when we do not have it
at out disposal some of us feel immediately lost.

When the lights come on again,
when the TV screens flicker back to life,
and when we no longer have any further need
for the torches and the candles that we
had lit as temporary sources of light,
we all feel thankful to be able
to see clearly and to feel comfortable
once again in our world of modern enlightenment
that for a time had been taken away from us
by the inconvenience of a brief
but significant neigbourhood blackout.

My Poem “Equinox”

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

Life feels like we have truly arrived
at a moment between light and dark…
life feels like we are transitioning
between two states of being…
after all that has happened this year,
after we have all sacrificed
and after how far we have all come,
life feels as of it is in a state of resistance –
because humanity feels like it is
stuck in a game of tug of war with itself
and with a nemesis they cannot see clearly.

Life in some shapes and places is continuing
irregardless of everything else –
as they always have done –
while some individuals fear that
they have reached a point of no return
and everything that happens next
with be irrevocable, and the pain
that will be felt will cut deep.

Life on planet Earth has been shook
profoundly by what has occurred this year…
life will never again be the same as it was…
life is subjective and based upon
the personal perspective of an individual
at a specific here and a specific now.

Life has been though dark times before;
however, after every era of profound change,
nature teaches all things that they need
to find a way to adapt to the circumstances
and the surroundings that they find
themselves in and to do their best
to find a balance that they may have lost –
and there is no better time to be
a shining example of phenomenonal
strength and fortitude than right now,
at this moment of equinox.

My Poem “Painting by Numbers”

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

The sun shines during the day…
the sky flashes during the night…
the heat is too much for some
people to take that they have to
spend most of their time
sitting in the shade…
within the dark clouds above
storms rage and echo the unparalleled
power of nature’s electricity
that manifests itself in the form
of both light and sound,
occasionally frenetically.

The summer months are usually
defined by the colours that are
seen emanating all around…
during the summer months
people usually take their time
to seek out a particular place
that they hope, or may already know,
will be somewhere special,
memorable, hopeful, and profound.

When painting a picture of the world
that they see, some people like to use
examples of other things
to compare their vision to,
for example: when someone sees
a beautiful person who is perfect
to them in every way, they may
compare them to a flower,
such as a daisy or a rose –
and in doing so they are
knowingly, or accidentally,
speaking in the language of poetry…
art, in its infinite forms, is an expression
of an artist who wishes to give
an example of who they are,
what they are, and what drives their heart
to share the story of something,
somewhere, or someone,
so powerfully, and yet so effortlessly
as if they were painting by numbers.

My Poem “Eyes”

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

I wonder how many people realise
that when they are staring into
another person’s eyes
that they are not only looking at
the windows into a person’s soul
but they are also seeing the most
external part of that person’s brain
which is constantly relaying multiple images
at the speed of light down the optic nerve
of each eye to the part of the brain
responsible for making decisions
and stimulating many simultaneous
reactions as a result,
and it is also true that you can tell
a lot about a person’s health
and their lifestyle by watching
the way that the iris of someone’s eye
moves, dilhilates, focuses and flickers –
and I think the fact that our eyes
have such a direct connection to
the way our brain operates,
the thoughts that we have,
and the storm of chemicals that
bubbles up within us perfectly
symbolises
why it is important to take care of your eyes
because they are vital in more ways
that some people might realise.

My Poem “The Comet”

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

As I watched the bright tail
of the comet streak overhead
I began to imagine all of the things
that had to have happened
since the creation of the universe,
since the disk of our galaxy came together,
since the formation of planet Earth,
and since the origin of humanity,
and how everybody and everything
has always been surrounded by
the darkness of space,
all the little things
and all of the big things
that had to combine to make up
the tale of everything –
and no matter the absence of colour that I see
I continue to smile because I know
that there are stars and there are nebulae
out there in the cosmos of the universe
that are like oases of light
and like gardens of life
which are composed of streams of matter
and energy that twist like ribbons
as they ripple like the waves of an ocean,
where stars are being born
every second that our world turns,
that are an example of how something
is always happening somewhere
in places where wonders beyond
the wildest of dreams are being realized –
and as I stare at the bright halo
and the streaking tale of the out
of this world interstellar snowball
I wonder how many other people
have seen this same remnant of
the beginning of the solar system
over the centuries since the journey
began for this particular comet.

My Poem “Being Brave”

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

Even while there are still clouds
creating a fog that makes it
hard to see what is going to happen
next and when things will once again
return to a state of normalcy
there are embryos of new life
growing within people,
there are sparks of light
sending out signals,
there are new shoots
of growth coming from old plants
continuing to revitalize
our thoughts, our dreams,
our shared existence, our planet.

Small pockets of happiness
have started to reemerge…
small gestures of generosity
are being made by those
who want to do something
for somebody else…
small pieces of creativity
are being found to bring joy
to those who are struggling the worst…
the smallest of things quickly become
important in a person’s life
and they can give those in need
unlimited amounts of hope.

There is always a way out
of any dark place…
there are always lights
to guide everybody –
on Earth as well as in outer space…
there is always somewhere
that we all feel safe…
there are always possibilities –
which is why sometimes
the strongest thing that anybody can do
is to remember to take every day
as it comes and if possible
to embrace the power of being brave.

My Poem “This is the way”

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

There are times when
some people can believe
that all hope has been lost…
there are times when
people cannot see beyond
the shroud of darkness
that obscures the constant stars…
there are times when people
walk through a forest of trees
and they cannot see a path
to the outside and back to the light…
there are times when
people have to dig deep and feel
for the source of the force
that shines like a beacon within them
and which seeks to cut through
the chaos of a moment
like a sabre of peace
that can be formidable if needed
to be used during a fight for survival.

There are times from dawn to dusk,
as the Sun walks the sky
and guides the lives
of billions of people
who are all seeking to play their part
in keeping the phantom menaces
that occasionally plague the world at bay –
however staying a course,
standing up against an adversary
who seeks to impose their will
over the innocent of society,
speaking out for those
who do not have a voice,
and saving the life of people
who you might not know
is the least that anyone can do,
and in the mission of those
who seek peace, harmony
and reconciliation with all things,
while walking with their head held high
and while basking in the light
of the living, is how it is possible
to be a force for good
in the world in some way.