Whenever I see a photograph
of myself from childhood,
or whenever I hear my own voice
from decades past,
I am always reminded of how young I was,
I am always reminded of how untainted I was,
I am always reminded of how naive I was,
and I am always reminded of how much
I have changed, and also how much
I haven’t changed and will never change…
whenever I look back upon my own memories
I am always having to remind myself
that things might not have happened
exactly as I remember them happening -
because, no matter how good we think our memory is,
each of our memories and recollections
are always subject to our emotions -
and the farther away we are from
something that happened
the more that our perception of reality
becomes distorted and rewritten
with the version of our own internal narrative…
whenever I read something that I wrote
from years ago, when I was younger
and more inclined to believe everything
and take everybody on face value,
I look back on recent events
when my view on something or someone
was challenged and subsequently changed as a result -
and that is when I realise how important
is it to stay in the moment,
but not forget why things are
the way that they are
and why things were never meant to be
different than how they turned out…
whenever I read something I wrote,
whenever my own words and my own actions
return to me in some way,
I remember the fact that the past
is constantly talking to the present,
just as the present talks to
and perhaps even influences the past
in more ways than we realise,
and I find myself not regretting anything that I have done -
because we are all creating and recreating
our own version of our life
which only we have control over…
whenever I hear others talk about me
in the third person,
I always wonder how and why others
see me as they do and what it is about me
that has stayed with them
and reminds them of me -
but then of course there are the things
and there are the people whom I have known
who might not have as glowing of an opinion
of me as they used to;
however, I have learned that it doesn’t matter
what someone who is no longer in your life
thinks about you,
because it is those people
who take the time to reach out to you
and who want nothing but the best for you
who give you what you need, when you need it;
and when it all comes down to it,
everything and everyone all sound different,
and everything and everyone look different,
whenever they are heard as an echo
or whenever they are seen in reflection.
memory
My Poem “New Conclusion”
When I began this journey,
I didn’t realise that I was on a path
that would change everything about me…
when I was young I didn’t realise
that everything has a time limit,
and I couldn’t conceive of the notion
that everything didn’t last forever…
when I used to read books,
when I used to watch movies,
when I used to go outside
and ride my bike around my neighbourhood,
I used to believe that I could continue to do
and to enjoy doing certain things without end -
because I was uneducated to the reality
of the last time you might get to do something,
as well as the last time you might get to see someone.
When I left school and I first heard the news
that someone I knew, a friend of mine, had died
I was so shocked, I couldn’t make sense
of what I was hearing -
especially after I was told that my friend
had taken his own life because he couldn’t take
any more of being bullied for how he looked;
and even after all these years
I still wish that there was something
that I could have done to prevent what happened…
when I think back upon all the things that I have done,
when I think back upon all the places that I have been,
when I think back upon all the people that I have met,
it is hard to remember everything
as well as hard to remember everybody -
however some things and some people
we could never forget, even if we tried,
because sometimes things happen in our life
that mean more to us than we think
and the memory of them remains
ingrained within our consciousness
and is brought back to life within our dreams.
When I sleep at night, I know that I always dream -
but when I awaken I do not always remember
what I saw, nor who I encountered,
while within the world between worlds
where we all go to and are connected to
every moment of every day,
whether we all realise it, or not.
When I started to feel like I was a part
of something bigger than myself,
when I started to see signs telling me
that things in life weren’t always
as random as they seemed to be,
when I started to get the feeling
that I had a purpose in life that was mine and mine alone -
but which would see me doing things
and meeting certain people for a reason -
that was when something happened to me
that made me want to go seek out, explore,
wonder, learn, be inspired,
and not take a moment for granted…
whenever I have found myself at a place
and at a time when I have been taken aback
by the fact that I have been in the same position before,
and I have realised that I am continuing a cycle
and a trend that I thought would never happen again -
the same as I had seen other people repeat also -
I always promise myself that I will learn
from my mistakes of the past
and not repeat them in the future,
and I do try to be better than I was
at predicting the outcome of something before it happens.
Whenever I think about life and my place in the world,
the reason why I am here, and why things happen,
I have learned to be as philosophical
in my thinking and in my reasoning as I possibly can -
but, as always, just when you think you know everything,
just when you think you have seen everything,
just when you think you have heard everything,
something or someone will inevitably surprise you
and make you question whether something was always what it was,
whether someone was who you always thought they were,
and then, as before, life asks you
to look again at what you think you know,
take another guess at what is really going on,
and see what new conclusion you can come up with.
My Poem “The Mandela Effect”
Have you ever had the experience of
misremembering something?
Have you ever been so sure
that something happened
as you remember it happening -
but then being told, as well as being shown,
that your memory of something
is, in fact, not correct?
Have you ever heard the lyrics of a song
and then mis-hearing them,
and then singing along to the song differently -
even after you are told that the words
that you thought a song comprised of
are slightly wrong?
Of course you have. We all have.
Because everyone does.
Why? Who knows?
But, what if the reason is something
unexpected, memory-altering,
as well as reality-altering?
What if we remember things differently,
because things have been changed
from how they were to how they are now
by a change in the timeline?
You never know. Perhaps, as some people say,
we may all be living in an alternate-reality?
Because it can’t be a coincidence that
some people’s memories of the same thing can differ,
while others have a clear and similar
recollection that things definitely
occurred the way that they did -
but, for some reason, somehow, something,
or someone, has acted in a certain way in the past
and has created new memories
that have been overlaid upon
the memories of what once used to be,
which has created a feeling of uncertainty,
a paradox of perception,
as well as a sense of what is called "déjà vu".
From quotes from a movie
to the logos of food packaging;
from the names of TV shows
to the missing tails of cartoon characters;
from an actor being remembered
for playing a film role that he never played
to the most famous example of some people
remembering something that happened -
but never happened -
which, of course, is the fact that
South African president Nelson Mandela
did not die in a South African prison in the 1980s,
as some people believe they remember he did,
and he was released from prison
and in fact died in 2013 instead;
there are so many instances of what has been called
“False memory” about certain things,
and cited by so many people,
that I believe there might be something
more than meets the eye when it comes to
what has been coined “The Mandela Effect”.
The Comeback Kid – republished
Get your copy of the hardback version of my book ‘The Comeback Kid’!
Originally published in 2023, my poetry collection ‘The Comeback Kid’ is dedicated to my Dad and it was the first book I published following his sudden passing.
The poems within ‘The Comeback Kid’ symbolise the inner strength that we must all sometimes find within us to carry on living after losing someone who meant the world to us, and who was an inspiration to so many people in so many ways – just as my Dad was, and always will be.
I honestly did not know if I would ever be able to write anything else ever again after I lost my Dad; however, while still continuing to feel my Dad’s presence, as well as my unbreakable bond and my deep connection to my Dad, not to mention his phenomenal spirit and his incredible inspiration every day, I felt compelled to continue to write and publish a collection of poetry that my Dad would have been proud of. I know my Dad was always proud of me, he always believed in, and he always instilled in me the ethos to always do my best, no matter what I did – and I try to follow my Dad’s example and words of wisdom every day.
I miss my Dad, and I always will. And ‘The Comeback Kid’ will always represent who my Dad and I have always been – and no matter what we do, nor where we are, we will never give up, and we will always make a comeback in some way.
Get your copy of the new hardcover version of ‘The Comeback Kid’, featuring a brand new cover image, from Amazon now! 😊
My Poem “Dreams Come True”
As far back as I can remember,
I have always been a creator…
when I was younger,
I used to draw, I used to paint,
I used to use colour to express myself –
however, for some time now
I have used words and language
to paint a picture within someone’s mind
of what I see, what I believe, what I think about,
and what excites my imagination in such a way
that I am inspired to write about something
that I have never written before.
As far back as my memory goes,
I have always been someone who
can never stop asking questions
and looking for answers that I know
are there to be found –
like a detective, I have always believed
that if you keep going then every day
you will discover something new
that will further unveil a new layer
to life’s endless possibilities,
mysteries, secrets, and stories.
When I was younger,
I always gravitated towards,
and I was always spellbound by,
the characters that I saw in films and TV shows,
as well the songs that I heard on the radio
that all seemed to be conveying something
deep and profound about the human experience
that made me feel something akin to a spiritual awakening:
because what I saw, and what I heard,
touched and implanted something inside of me
that would take years to grow into
whatever it is that sustains me
and never stops inspiring me.
As far back as I can tell -
though I was not always as gifted
as I am these days at grasping the reasons
why things happen and why people do what they do –
I have always believed that
the best things in life are always
the things that make us happy
and fill us with joy and love,
and if we are lucky enough
to one day find certain people in the world
who are willing to take a chance on us,
and give us a little bit of their time,
to show them who we are
and what makes us different
from everyone else,
then anything is possible,
anything can happen,
and anything that can be imagined
can be made real and can change the way
that people perceive the world,
as well as the universe.
When I was a child, everything –
time in particular –
seemed to take forever to change;
however, these days it feels like
every moment seems to fly by
and I don’t get enough time
to take something for what it is,
or what it could be,
and see where it takes me,
because there is always
something else to do,
somewhere else to be,
and there is always news of someone else
who was there one minute
but who seemingly, in the blink of an eye,
left us without a word for the world to come.
As far back as any of us
can go back in our thoughts,
and as far back as any of us can sometimes
see echoes of what we have done,
where we have been,
and who we have known throughout our lives,
there is nothing that is more important, significant,
nor a more powerful part of our existence
than the fact that we get to live
and we are free to do
whatever we choose
with what we are gifted with
to make up our own minds about
what we want our future to be
and what we need to do to make
our words and our dreams come true.
My Poem “Dear Dad”
Whenever a beam of sunlight touches us,
whenever a red-breasted robin
comes to visit us,
whenever we see a white feather
on the path before us,
whenever we feel someone
standing beside us,
whenever we see your face within our mind,
we know that you have returned to us
to make sure we are OK,
as you put your hand upon our shoulders,
as you continue to smile
your one of a kind smile,
as your blue eyes continue to shine
brighter than the stars of night sky,
as you continue to give us the gift of you,
as well as your amazing presence and radiating spirit,
as we all continue to feel
your everlasting love.
I can not believe that it has been
a year since I last saw you,
I can not believe that it has been
a year since I last heard your voice,
I can not believe that it has been
a year since I last held your hand;
every day, I still feel our bond and our connection...
every day, I can still feel your presence
and I have felt comforted by the knowledge
that I know you are now living a life
somewhere beyond what can be seen -
because you have visited me
and you have spoken to me
now multiple times in my dreams.
Life will never again
be the same as it was...
every day I think about you,
and I can still recall how
devastated and distraught
I was when I found out
that you had been taken from us...
I am not the same as I was,
nor could anyone hope to be
following the loss of someone
who meant the world to them,
as you will always mean to me...
I will always remember all that
you gave me and all that you taught me,
and I will continue your legacy
for as long as I live...
to me, you will always be
the best father anyone ever had
and you will always be
my inspiration and my hero,
my incredible and my always
near and dear Dad.
David William George Hastings
6th January 1949 - 8th December 2022
My Poem “The Embodiment of Poetry”
I walked into the woods today... I returned to a place that I know well and a place that knows me... I saw the same trees that I have known for over a decade, and as soon as I entered the place where the poet in me was born I saw echoes of myself from the past - and I felt as if, once again, I was seeing a version of myself who had yet to have suffered the scars and the losses that I had. I have always felt blessed with inspiration whenever I go back to where things began for me - the place that I have a memory of which is so clear and special, the place where I only remember feeling an abundance of happiness, the place that I consider a fountain of poetry, that I have been back to many times over the years; however, today, this time, from the moment that I reentered the oasis of life that over time has become the endless kaleidoscope of memories, experiences, and thoughts from the moment that I saw it, I felt as if I were returning truly changed and different from who I was when I first visited. I felt it almost immediately: I was not the same person as I was, and yet I was still the same poet who I have always been - but now filled with the things of mine taken from the shadows of the monuments that define my life... I felt like I was one of the trees, and I felt as if they were as close to me as family... I felt like I had been waiting for something which was always there - but, before today, I could not perceive what had always been all around me and right in front of me. I had been away from this place for a long time - but as soon as I was once again surrounded by the storytellers of nature itself, it did not take me long to complete the puzzle within me, by using the pieces I had left behind from the last time I was there, to realise that I am, and I have always been, what I always wanted to be: the embodiment of poetry.
A Poem A Day #611: Those Days
A Poem A Day #608: One Day
My Poem “Summer Rain”
Listening to the summer rain fall upon the windowpane, I remember Summer's gone by when I smiled and those when I cried... I remember the sunshine and the love, I remember the moonlight and the loss... I remember every moment of connection, I remember every time I felt as if everything and everyone was forever - and I still haven't learned my lesson... I remember the ups and the downs, I remember the highs and the lows, I remember the deep conversations that I had with people about life, meaning, poetry, music, and sound - and I remember time going by so incomparably and wonderfully slow... I remember, and I never forget - that is my curse, and that is because, at all times, I always try to do my best to make something last for as long as it possibly can. The almost hypnotic sound of countless water-droplets, the intoxicating smell of a downpour, the entrancing falling of the veil of the world itself opens something within me to a series of places and faces that were once my idea of perfection but which are now only echoes of the past that return and then are gone again like the waterfall of time of the summer rain.
Mark The Poet 