loss

My Poem “Traverse”

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

Getting through life is not always
as straightforward as following a path…
getting through a world of darkness
is sometimes like trying to cross an ocean
without a compass or a guiding light…
getting through the pain of profound loss
is like proceeding across the wilderness of a desert
and seeing nothing but signs of what was…
getting back on your feet,
after being in a bad place
that you had come to believe
you might never return from,
is like trying to climb out of the darkest hole
ever to have opened up beneath
the surface of the Earth
and wondering why you were cursed
with what happened to you in life.

The only way to know
what is meant to happen,
and the only way to know
what is not meant to happen,
is to go where you are drawn to
and to not stop until you realise
something that you could only
have discovered by taking the steps
that you needed to make…
the only way to be sure
of your purpose in life,
and the only way to be sure
of what might be your undoing,
is to be honest with yourself
when you feel like you have reached a point
that may allow you to have
all that you have ever wanted –
but you may have to face up to the fact
that sometimes only a fragment of
what is put into something remains
before it too falls away like a leaf from a branch.

Winter is cold… winter is stark…
winter is a time when we cling on
to whatever and whomever we can
to get us through the present
before it becomes the past…
winter is a reminder of the importance
of being alive and not taking anything
not anyone for granted,
because nothing lasts forever in this universe…
winter is when the night sky
is its most striking and staggering,
and winter is also when we look up
and see the shining stars of our ancestors
and the light of those who we lost
but who we will always love,
as well as the place that one day
each of us will be called to travel to
and the divine divide that we will have to traverse.

My Poem “Hell on Earth”

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

The fires of hell
have been visited upon
the “City of Angels”…
lives have been lost,
houses have been burned,
places of meaning have been destroyed,
life has been irrevocably changed
for the people of Los Angeles –
and no one can do anything to stop
what is still happening,
nor can anyone turn back the clock
and restore a community to what it was,
nor bring back the beauty that has been lost.

My heart goes out to those who have lost so much
to a force of nature that is notoriously hard to fight…
my thoughts and prayers go out to those mourning
the loss of friends and family members
who did not and could not leave their homes…
my hope is that when those
who were evacuated for their own safety
return to the place they never wanted to leave
will one day be able to recover
from the trauma of the nightmare
that they are having to endure…
my condolences and my deepest sympathy
goes out to those who may have lost everything
that meant the world to them
and that which symbolised their love of life.

As I write this, people from all around the world
watch on as images of the seemingly endless flames
of the devastating fire that continues to burn unabated
are shared with countless others…
as I write this, families who fled to save their lives
are returning to the charred remains of their homes
and are having to face the darkness
of their new reality as tears fill their eyes…
as I write this, I wish that a miracle would come to the rescue of the people of the haven of dreamers
and bring an end to the destruction, the death,
the suffering, and the misery of those who have been scared by what has befallen
one of the most beautiful places in the world
and which has always represented
hopefulness and prosperity…
as I write this, fire fighters, as well as ordinary citizens,
work together and attempt to do what they can
to douse the flames and prevent any further damage
to the place they call home
from the inferno that has raged for days on end –
and I hope that one day somewhere
that has for so long been thought of
as a place akin to “Heaven on Earth”
will rise again from the ashes
of how it appears at this moment: Hell.

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ By Mark Hastings – Chapter Six: Let’s Take It From The Top

Mark Hastings books, Podcast , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’, Chapter Six – “Let’s Take It From The Top”: the story of two best friends and soulmates, whose love for one another is tested to its limits, and whose one of a kind connection ultimately takes them both on a journey to somewhere beyond the horizon. However, nothing and no one can stop them both from fulfilling their life-long promise to one another: to meet each other at The Lighthouse.

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ By Mark Hastings – Chapter Five: The Next Life

Mark Hastings books, Podcast , , , , , , , , , , ,

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’, Chapter Five – “The Next Life”: the story of two best friends and soulmates, whose love for one another is tested to its limits, and whose one of a kind connection ultimately takes them both on a journey to somewhere beyond the horizon. However, nothing and no one can stop them both from fulfilling their life-long promise to one another: to meet each other at The Lighthouse.

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ By Mark Hastings – Chapter Four: The Beacon

Mark Hastings books, Podcast , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ , Chapter Four – “The Beacon”: the story of two best friends and soulmates, whose love for one another is tested to its limits, and whose one of a kind connection ultimately takes them both on a journey to somewhere beyond the horizon. However, nothing and no one can stop them both from fulfilling their life-long promise to one another: to meet each other at The Lighthouse.

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ By Mark Hastings – Chapter Three: The Reunion

Mark Hastings books, Podcast , , , , , , , , , , ,

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’, Chapter Three – “The Reunion”: the story of two best friends and soulmates, whose love for one another is tested to its limits, and whose one of a kind connection ultimately takes them both on a journey to somewhere beyond the horizon. However, nothing and no one can stop them both from fulfilling their life-long promise to one another: to meet each other at The Lighthouse.

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ By Mark Hastings – Chapter Two: Life Moves On

Mark Hastings books, Podcast , , , , , , , , , , , ,

‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’, Chapter Two: “Life Moves On”: the story of two best friends and soulmates, whose love for one another is tested to its limits, and whose one of a kind connection ultimately takes them both on a journey to somewhere beyond the horizon. However, nothing and no one can stop them both from fulfilling their life-long promise to one another: to meet each other at The Lighthouse.

I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse – Out Now!

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

My new book ‘I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse’ is out now and available to purchase from Amazon in hardback, in paperback, and as an ebook for Kindle: https://amzn.eu/d/belWXTy

I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse is the story of two best friends and soulmates, whose love for one another is tested to its limits, and whose one of a kind connection ultimately takes them both on a journey to somewhere beyond the horizon. However, nothing and no one can stop them both from fulfilling their life-long promise to one another: to meet each other at The Lighthouse.

Watch me talking about I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse on YouTube:

And listen to me talk about I’ll Meet You At The Lighthouse on a Special Publication Day episode of my podcast, Mark The Poet – The Podcast, in which I talk about the origins of my new book, its characters, and some of the themes that run through it from beginning to end:

My Poem “The Music of The Midnight”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , 
I can still remember driving together,
while listening to the music of The Midnight,
down the dark highways
illuminated only by the halo of the Full Moon
and the glow of the streetlights…
I can still remember how happy I felt,
I can still remember never wanting
our time together to end;
but then, before I knew it, we arrived
at the moment that we both knew
was always going to happen:
the moment when we would kiss each other
for the last time before we
both went our separate ways…
I can still remember the tears that I cried,
I can still remember wishing that what we had
could go on and never end -
but I had known from the moment that we met
that one day you and I would no longer be
lovers, nor would we be friends,
because that is exactly what you
told me from the start
but for some reason, back then,
I chose not to listen…
I can still remember thinking
that I would never see you again -
and all these years later it turns out I was right…
I can still remember seeing your face for the last time
before you disappeared from view
and returned to the shadows -
as if you had always only been a dream of mine
that was only meant to last for a short time…
I can still remember you telling me
that we were no more,
because you had already moved on from us…
I can still remember how calm you seemed -
as if what was happening had always been
the end result of some kind
of a plan or a game
that you had orchestrated, which,
in the end, you would be the only winner of,
because, even from the start,
you knew that you could manipulate
people in such a way that for you
there would never be a cost… 
I can still remember going to bed,
but unable to sleep -
because all I could think about
was what went wrong, 
the movie that we had gone to see that evening,
the doomed love that I still felt,
as well as the sound of our beating hearts
that once beat in time with one another,
but which now beat to a completely different rhythm -
and even to this day, I can still remember how sad
and how lost I felt after we said goodbye,
and how bittersweet the song that played
as we left each other forever sounded
as it ingrained itself into my soul
and became the soundtrack
of the music of the midnight.

My Poem “The Sea of Unfulfilled Dreams”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 
I used to think I knew everything...
I used to think I was
going to do everything...
I used to think I would
fall in love with someone
and spend the rest of my life with them...
I used to think I would
learn my lesson
and never again return
to that place that caged me
for so long like a prison -
but, as it turns out,
of course, I was wrong,
because here I am again
shackled to my memories of the past
and tormented by
what was never meant to be...
it's my own fault,
I was the one who opened the door
that said "DO NOT ENTER" on it -
but I just couldn't help myself
from wondering if who
and what I thought I had locked away
was still waiting to be found
on the other side.

I should have known better...
I should have stopped myself
from reawakening the power
of what I have struggled to put behind me...
I should have been stronger...
I should have talked myself
out of being who I am -
but, once again, I was weak.

Once again, everything feels complicated -
where before, not that long ago,
everything was finally
beginning to feel simple...
once again, I am a storm
of thoughts and emotions -
but not that long ago
I swore that I felt as if
I were truly at a place of peace...
once again, I have fallen hard
and I do not know how long
it will take me to rise
even so much as a little...
once again, I have been triggered
into a state of intoxication
because I dared to venture
to where I have been before
and from which I still wear the scars -
I just hope that I will find a way
to not drown under the dark waves
of the sea of unfulfilled dreams.