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My poem “It’s a Boy!”

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

On the 21st of January, 2021,
my sister Clare and my brother-in-law Ben
were blessed by the birth of their baby son –
and I just wanted to write something
to welcome this brand new gift of hope
to the world and reassure him that
for all the days of his life
he will always be blessed by love.

Last night there was storm of rain,
but at the moment that my sister Clare’s
baby boy was born the clouds literally parted
and the sun shone upon everyone
brighter than it had done so for months –
and as soon as I was told that my new nephew
had arrived safe and sound
and was in his mother’s arms
I immediately felt this overwhelming
feeling of pride for what my sister had done
and I quietly conveyed my belief
that no matter what happened
my new nephew could rest assured
that he would never knowingly
come to any harm.

The ability to create new life
is one of the greatest gifts in the universe…
the phenomenon that someone
who you have known all your life
can still find ways to surprise you
in rising to the occasion of becoming
something bigger than themselves
is truly an awe-inspiring and a breathtaking
superpower that to me has always
been beyond any words.

I have never been prouder
of my sister Clare than I am today…
I have never been happier for anyone
than I am for my sister Clare
and for my brother-in-law Ben right now
because of the arrival of their new
buddle of love and joy…
I have never wanted to meet anyone
like I am looking forward to meeting
my new nephew…
I have never been more overjoyed
to share any news with anybody
than I am to say that my family now has
a brand new beacon of hope in our lives
in the form of a beautiful baby boy: Milo!

🥳🎊🎉🧑‍🍼🤱👶😍

My Poem “Keep the faith”

Mark Hastings life, me, Podcast, Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Where once there was many
now there are few…
where once there was darkness
now there is the promise
of something hopeful and brand new…
where once there was hate and fear
now there is the light of love
to usher in a new day of healing…
where once there was tyranny
now there is the arrival
of why it is always important
to never stop believing…
where once there was division
now there is a message of unity
for people who want peace and prosperity
to spread across the world
and out amongst the stars…
where once there were daily attacks
now the suvivors who did not
give up continue to walk tall
and seek to mend those who
now wear deeply embedded battle-scars..
where once there was lies
now there is truth to be found
in a myriad of ways…
where once there was indecision
now there is a symbol and an example
of why it is important
to always keep the faith.

My Poem “Strange New World”

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

Every day is like a strange new world…
every day sometimes looks and feels
both similar and familiar,
and yet alien and extraordinary at the same time…
every day is like a journey into the unknown
for which we sometimes have no words…
every day sometimes feels so full of
the unexpected that we can come to
believe that we have slipped into
an existence that feels like another life.

Every day is an exploration of
the human condition…
every day we all have to venture
into the frontier of the world
that surrounds us sometimes with
no knowledge of who and what we will find…
every day can feel like a test, an exercise,
or a mission during which we all have to
make both big and small decisions…
every day can feel like a dream
or a creation of hope or fear of our mind.

We all need fantasy, just as much as
we all sometimes need a dose of reality…
we all need the wonder, the art, the joy,
the imagination, and the gift
of learning something, of seeing something,
of hearing something, and of going to somewhere
that we have never been before…
we all need to sometimes escape
within the pages to a book,
within the notes of a song,
or within the visual storytelling
of a TV show or a movie…
all that we can ask of ourselves,
especially in times when we feel like
we are living a life seemingly
beyond our control,
is to take one step at a time while we
learn how to live and to thrive
somewhere that feels like
a strange new world.

My Poem “Strum”

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

I am not exactly sure what
it was that overcame me,
but from the moment that
I first saw and I first heard
someone playing a ukulele
I was immediately entranced
and fascinated by this
stringed instrument,
that looks like a miniature guitar,
that naturally seems to have this
calming tone to it when a player
strums its cords that range G C E A…
I am not exact sure why
I was compelled to buy my D.I.Y.
ukulele from the bookstore I found it in –
so that I could leisurely learn
how to play an instrument of my own choosing?
To feel a wave of emotional connection
and a sense of fun when driving
my fingers over the four strings
that I physically tied
from the bridge to the pegs of the headstock?
I’m not sure, but that is exactly what happened:
because as soon as I began to innocently
move my fingers over the four strings
of the ukulele that I had to glue, screw, and attach all the separate
components of, I felt this instant
and emotionally charged feedback
from the sounds that I created,
and I felt a rush of instant creative inspiration.

There is something special about
making things with your own two hands…
there is something about having
a project in front of you
to put your heart and your mind to…
there is something about the visceral
connection that a lot of people feel
when they handle a piece of wood
that has been crafted into the vital
parts of an instrument…
there is something almost spiritual
about holding something
and feeling as if what you have
in your hands has its own identity,
its own story, its own voice, its own soul…
there is something wonderful about
finding something brand new
that you never could have imagined
that you would ever discover
that would give you the gift
of grasping something profound.

I have always been in awe
of those naturally gifted artists
who can pick up an instrument
and instinctually know how to play
something in such a way that they
can illicit an emotional response
from their audience and immediately
generate a continuum of connection
without even knowing that they are doing so…
I have always wanted to learn how
to play a musical instrument
and to be good enough to be able
to capture and to sustain someone’s,
anyone’s, attention, in a good way –
and hopefully not bore them to tears…
I have known some singers, some song-writers,
and some instrumentalists over my life,
and I have had many moments of feeling
this heartfelt bond with several voices,
sounds, songs – and when I write my own poetry
I attempt to write in such a way
that my words can be interpreted lyrically,
as if they were songs in and of themselves;
however, now I believe that I have found
something that I will use in the future
as an accompaniment to what I write,
and perhaps I will get inspiration for
the poetry that I will write to come
just by strumming upon the strings
of my new ukulele.

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 “02022020”

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

Today is the second of February, 2020 –
meaning that if you were to write it down
then today’s date would be read as “02022020”,
which of course is a palidrome:
meaning that no matter in which order
that you read it it can be read in exactly the same way,
forwards or backwards,
which I consider as being symbolic
of the beautiful symmetry of life, of people,
of the universe that everybody finds themselves
a vital member of when they look up,
when they look down,
when they look in every direction possible,
in order to find their place in this
amazing hive of activity that is constantly
creating new gifts of love, energy, and inspiration
that we can only hope will fuel
that which is responsible for helping
each and everyone of us –
especially those of us here on Earth –
find our way and our purpose in life.

In Punxsutawney, PA, this morning
the Groundhog spoke
and Punxsutawney Phil himself
informed all in attendance that
he did not see his shadow –
which of course means that
there will be an early Spring,
which means that everything
and everyone can look forward
to the early start of a brand new season
of light and beauty
and all the blessings
that it will bring.


Happy Groundhog Day! 😊

My Poem “NEU”

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

When you make a choice
to wade out into an ocean of uncertainty
and away from the coast
of what is tried, tested, and known,
you have to stay calm,
you have to stay positive,
you have to stay strong,
and you have to keep going
if you want to realize the dream
of remaking, redefining,
and perhaps rediscovering
who you are in your heart of hearts
and what you want to see as
the ever changing face
and identity of your home.

Learning to swim can be scary at first –
being out in a vast and expansive environment
that is as uncontrollable,
as unrecognisable, as breathtaking,
and as alien as water can sometimes seem
can be daunting, and the further out that you go
and the deeper that delve
the more that you can sometimes
feel the need and the urge to turn back,
to return to the surface,
and to breathe in the air of the ordinary –
but if everybody in history had decided
to turn back when the waves of a sea got rough,
or when the land beneath their feet
started to seem impassable,
then no one would be around
to tell the tales of how humanity came to be.

A new day always harbours a new dawn..
a new morning always gives everybody
new things to think about,
to discover, and to explore…
an opportunity to do something
revolutionary is one that many people
around the world have taken advantage of
and the results of which undeniably
show more often than not
a beneficial change for those seeking
to expand their horizons –
which is why I always believe that
every new day, every new morning,
and every new opportunity
has to be grasped and considered
a gift to make a change that
may improve things, people,
attitudes, and fuel the dreams
of those people who are capable
of seeing beyond the horizon
and who can imagine what can become
a reality if you do not stop believing in
the power of transformation
and staying hopeful to what is possible
when people decide to make a move
to go their own way and carve out
their own individual groove.

My Poem “Countdown”

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

Every countdown that always occurs
on the last seconds of New Year’s Eve
before the obligatory
“Happy New Year!”
is simultaneously the countdown
to the end of one year
as well as the countdown to
a brand new set of 365 days
that will see changes in the world
as well as changes in people
that will change the landscape
of humanity in so many ways.

Countdowns can be good,
countdowns can be exciting,
countdowns can be like heralds from above,
countdowns can lead to instances
that can be surprising…
countdowns can give people
something to look forward to…
countdowns can give people
the thrill of anticipation…
countdowns can give people
the courage to do something
that they have always wanted to do…
countdowns can give people hope
and are not always a ticking clock
ticking down to a moment of destruction.

Time and space is relative…
the universe and nature
has its own timetable
which does not require
any knowledge or understanding of it
by anybody or anything.

Memories and experiences
are precious and personal
to whomever recalls them…
humanity requires the ability
to preserve and measure time
to give their lives some
semblance of meaning and structure,
and countdowns are especially necessary
because people like climaxes
just as much as they enjoy new beginnings –
and there is no conclusion and restart
that people plan for and look forward to
like the instant on the 31st of December
every year when 23:59, or 11:59pm,
changes to 00:00, or 12:00am,
when those who are still awake
celebrate, wherever they are
and with whomever they are with –
sometimes with a handshake,
a hug, or a kiss –
as they declare: Happy New Year!