A Poem A Day #443: Memento Vitae

“Memento Vitae” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Rambler’ which was published in 2020 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet ● Check out the merch store on Redbubble: https://rdbl.co/3xWa4Rw

A Poem A Day #424: My God Father

“My God Father” was taken from my poetry collection ‘Poet of the Multiverse’, which was published in 2022 by Zeloo Media and which was inspired by my Dad, David William George Hastings, who sadly passed away on December 8th, 2022. Check out more of my poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet

A Poem A Day #349: Memory Box

“Memory Box” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Dreamer and The Dream’ which was published in 2015 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet ● Check out the merch store on Redbubble: https://rdbl.co/3xWa4Rw

My Poem “Talisman”

Something to remind you
of somebody far away -
a loved one, a friend,
someone who you think about every day...
something as simple as an object
that somebody gave you for safe keeping
and also to remember them by...
something personal - like a watch
passed down and worn on the wrist
of generations of ancestors and their descendents -
that symbolises a way back through time...
something like a mantra that is repeated
over and over again to open a door
inwards and outwards...
something like a candle that we use
when the power goes out
and we have to use the only precious light
that we have to see the path before us...
something like a photograph
taken when visiting somewhere
indescriable and meaningful
with someone who is a daily hand to hold
and a guide back to solid ground
when we find ourselves far from land...
something that gives us a feeling
of hope, optimism, as well as
a forward momentum -
because to us they will always be
a talisman.

A Poem A Day #303: The Great Detective

“The Great Detective” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Eternal Boy’ which was published in 2015 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet

A Poem A Day #247: Never Forget

“Never Forget” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Eternal Boy’ which was published in 2015 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet

A Poem A Day #233: Once Seen Never Forgotten

“Once Seen Never Forgotten” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Eternal Boy’ which was published in 2015 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet

My Poem “Screenshot”

Life is a livestream without a pause button...
when something happens we can't commit
every detail of every moment to memory...
life sometimes feels like it is
in a state of fast-forward...
when someone scrolls through
the posts of someone else who appears
to be living the life that they have always
wanted sometimes people can feel envy -
however life is filled with more depth
of perspective and colour
than any resolution of screen
could ever display perfectly...
when a photograph is taken
a thousand words could be used to describe
what the two dimensions apparently show -
but to go beyond a static image
and dive into what preceeded it
and what came after it
you have to look to what appears
in the background that may not be
as easy to see, but take it from me
it is there that you will see a picture's true poetry...
there is no way yet to recall
what the first face that we saw
after we were born was,
nor is there yet a way to know
what the first sound that we heard was,
nor who the first voice that
we heard belonged to;
but, make no mistake, our entire life
of experiences are all saved within our brains -
the good, the bad, the tragic, and the funny -
and if at the end of everything
each of us do indeed see our entire life
flash before our eyes so fast
that every moment merges together
into a burst of bright light,
be sure to try and do what
people do every day when they see
something on their phone
that they think is worth capturing:
remember what you can, while you can,
and if necessary take a screenshot.


My Poem “Missing Time”

Since the start of this
world-shattering pandemic
I know deep in my soul
that I have missed the sound
of a particular source of music -
a soundtrack, a beat,
a rhythm of life that can be heard,
felt, and seen within your minds eye,
whether it be morning, noon, or night:
the same pulse of inspiration
that first surged within me
at the very moment when
I knew that I was born to be a poet.

What I love about writing
and what keeps me coming back
to the blank page time and again
is the same thing that I miss
about sitting in a café
surrounded by people,
before the days of mandatory masks
and before compulsory social distancing.

The thrill of the unknown,
the magic of the instantaneous,
the order and the chaos that to me
always made sense and which I could
always easily pull into focus:
all that being an artist is all about...
you can't plan for it, you can only create it
when you feel it within you boiling away
with such ferocity that you know
it is about to explode -
which is why artists need to capture
what occurs to them before
whatever idea forms combusts into dust
and becomes as spectral as a ghost.

I yearn to go back in time...
I wish that I could return to a place
at a point in the past where and when
I truly believed every moment
would always last...
I still cannot believe that we are all
living in the world that greets my senses
and compels my thoughts
and my emotions so overwhelmingly...
I wish that I could do something,
I wish that I could write something,
I wish that I could imagine something
that might serve to transport
everybody away from our current stark reality -
perhaps to a moment of peace, joy, and love
that the world once enjoyed,
or to a time in the future when I know
the memory of our current present
will not be as potent.

I have personal places
and I have particular times
where and when I return to within
my thoughts and within my dreams
that mean the world to me
that feel so close to me that I could
reach out and grasp them:
perfect moments the like of which
everybody has, which we all would do
anything to get back to,
which we never stop missing
and which are among life's
most precious of blessings.