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My Poem “In A Galaxy Far, Far Away” (A Star Wars Poem)

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

*POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR STAR WARS: EPISODES I-IX*

A long time ago
in a galaxy far, far away…
a young farm boy looked to the horizon,
to Light of the twin sunsets of his home world
of humble beginnings,
with a dream of going on an adventure
throughout the stars,
however unaware that he was already
a vital part of an epic story
and a saga that would one day
impact upon the lives, the dreams,
and the hopes of an entire universe
of people all looking to find
a purpose that would help them
decide what side of the Force of life
that binds the fate of everything
and everyone to embrace.

A long time ago, and every day since,
a reverential group of followers
of a tale of good versus evil
have diligently paid close attention
to every episode that chronicled
every twist and turn of a saga
that revolved around a “Phantom Menace”:
a Dark Lord’s insidious corruption
of the democracy of a Republic
and their rise to power
by becoming a tyrannical Emperor
who instilled fear into their subjects
and their manipulation and temptation
to the “Dark Side” of a family
with a powerful connection
to the energy field that binds
and flows through all living things
by the name of “Skywalker”,
and the many battles that comprise
the epic “Star Wars” that has defined
an entire generation and will never
stop influencing and inspiring
everyone who has lived through them.

A long time ago, X-wing starfighters
piloted by an alliance of Rebels hoping
to overthrow a tyrannical Empire
destroyed a moon-sized super-weapon –
a “Death Star” of phenomenal power
that had the potential to change
the face and the fate of this
“Star Wars galaxy” forever,
had it not been stopped…
a long time ago, a vessel by the name
of the “Millennium Falcon”
traveled through hyper-space,
beyond the speed of light,
from one side of the galaxy to the other,
and was responsible for
delivering the return of a New Hope
to counter the revengeful resurgence
of the zealots of darkness and fear
and restore peace and balance
to a galaxy and to a universe
that established from it’s very beginning –
with compelling characters, places, vehicles,
laser battles, and Lightsaber duels –
that it would never be forgotten,
even though the events that transpired within it
as stated from the outset,
all happened a long time ago,
in a galaxy far, far away.

May The Force Be With You Always

My Poem “BANG!”

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

I can smell smoke in the air –
I can smell the potent aroma
of a fire burning in the distance…
I can hear the sound of explosions
echoing from an unknown direction –
no doubt the early launches
of fireworks purchased
for Bon Fire Night, tonight –
November the Fifth,
“Guy Fawkes Night”;
however, because there is
a thick blanket of dark cloud
above my head, I cannot see
the glory of the colour
no doubt brightening the sky somewhere.

There is a fine downpour of rain
that falls upon my face
as I gaze above to see
if I can glimpse what I can hear,
what I can smell, what I can feel –
however, it seems almost impossible
to be able to see anything
beyond the clouds,
and even the light of stars
of the night-sky are unable
to penetrate through the
hovering mass of water vapour.

Then there is a break
in the thick clouds
and the twinkle of the stars
is slowly revealed,
and seemingly from out of nowhere
there is a sudden loud BANG!
at the same time that there is
an explosion of red light
that streams and stretches
down from the sky above
to fill my eyes and my mind
with wonder and a welcome
reawakening of awe –
and within no time at all
the rain storm ceases,
and the full majesty
of the constellations are exposed
in all their stunning
and magnificent
breathtaking beauty.

My Poem “The Hallowed Season”

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

The colours of autumn
are the some of the most
beautiful, rich, warm,
breathtaking, calming,
memorable, and hypnotic
of all the seasons,
and the resplendent palette
that encompasses and emphasizes
the entirety of the month
of October to December –
during which the leaves of the trees
express their beauty silently
and yet profoundly
in hues of red, brown, and gold –
which sticks with those
who observe closely all the changes
that nature goes through
during the season of Fall
when the light of the sun
seemingly shines its brightest
and speaks to every poet’s hallowed soul.

Some people wait for this
time of year all year long…
some people anticipate
all what this time of year
is known for every day…
some people have a personal connection
with the traditions, the sounds,
the tastes, and the ambience
that is ever-present
at this time of the year…
some people are sometimes
so struck by the sights
that nature puts on display
for free in these autumn months
that they are almost brought to tears.

Misty mornings are not unheard of
when walking up and down the hills
of the countryside…
the golden light of the sun
at dawn is always worth waking up
early for and should not be missed…
the red skies at dusk are some
of the most stunning and mesmerizing
spectacles that can be witnessed
of the glorious natural art
of the heavens above
as seen with the naked eye
from planet Earth…
Autumn is a truly incredible
and inspiring season that
has everything that anyone
could ever wish for to fuel
their most beautiful dreams
of what hallowed fate
hopefully awaits us all.

My Poem “The Quintessential Joker”

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

I have always been someone
who likes to smile, to laugh,
to entertain, and to share my
overflowing enthusiasm
and enjoyment of something…
I have always been someone
who was drawn to moments of time
which revolved around happiness,
hopefulness, and the beauty of life
and the depths of feeling
that the human spirit is prevalent with.

I have always been someone
who understood how precious,
how amazing, what an opportunity,
and what a gift it is to be among
those who live in the world of the living –
and it has been revealed to people
many times over that it is
in those moments in our lives
when our emotions are at their most heightened,
that our minds are open to the possibilities
that surround each and every one of us
but which sometimes have
their secrets and truths
hidden from view because
people are not always in the right
frame of mind to understand
what they mean nor why they are so important…
often times the funniest forms
of comedy come out of the darkest
of situations that we find ourselves in…
some of the greatest writers, storytellers,
and performers the world has ever known
once knew and went through
times of pain, anguish, and fear
that they had to go through and overcome –
because everybody has different ways
of coping with everything
that they have to endure,
and everybody has different
levels of resilience and tolerance –
and there are times when some people
do the wrong thing at the wrong time
but they do not come to their senses
until much later in their life.

Everybody needs some kind
of outlet to return to…
everybody needs some kind
of way to express themselves…
everybody needs some kind
of flickering flame to get them
through the most trying of nights…
everybody knows what is funny to them
and what makes them explode
into a fit of laughter,
and everybody knows someone
who can lighten their mood
and without even having to try
can turn on their charm
and become the quintessential joker.

My Poem “Superpower”

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

The life of an artist
is not always easy…
the inspiration imbibed
by an artist is the combination
of a marathon of many steps
of a long journey…
an artist sometimes has to walk
a line between darkness and light…
relationships, experiences, loss,
the stories of other people
are a vital contributing factor
in how an artist will grow
and what an artist will choose to create…
the art of an artist is
a subjective perspective of life
that is neither wrong nor right.

The explosive power of an artist’s muse
is unparalleled and indescribable,
and when fully harnessed
the inspiration felt by an artist
can feel as amazing and invigorating
and as dangerous as holding
a stick of dynamite…
art is an obsession and it can be
as addictive as a drug,
and as intoxicating as love.

Love inspires art,
and art inspires love…
art can be seen below,
as well as above…
in my opinion, artists
are like superheroes
and the gift to be able
to make art is a miracle…
art can save people,
and artists who make art that matters
have a responsibility to instill
into their creations ideas
that will help other people dream
and achieve things in their life
that will flower and continue
to reinvigorate the gift
that is their inner light
and their ultimate source of power.

My Poem “Like a Moth to a Flame”

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

I am the moth
and you are the flame,
I have a fever
and you are to blame…
I write poetry
as if I were spinning silk,
and you are my muse
and the angel to whom
I pledge my undying love to
and I always will…
I have been drawn to you
since I first saw the perfection
of your face and the ethereal fire
of magic in your eyes,
and to me you have always been
and you always be the wolf of my heart
that can never be tamed
but who needs to be reminded of
just how amazing you are
and the reasons why
I will never look away from you
or ever go leave your side –
because I am in awe of you
morning, noon, and night
like a moth to the flame of firelight.

My Poem “A Stream of Starlight”

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

As I slept last night
I composed the poem of my life –
but when I woke up
and I opened my eyes
all the words and the imagery
that I dreamt about
disappeared and returned
to the world from whence
they came, locked away
deep inside where I can
never find again,
without form, without memory,
without words, without time…
each and every one of us
live every day of our lives
riding the waves and existing
in the wake of dreams
that are as wistful
and as ethereal as the rainbow
of colour that comprises
a stream of starlight.