My Poem ‘Mobile Poetry’

My pen has died,
its ink has run out –
but I really want to write,
but I don’t know what
I want to write about?
I am old-fashioned in some ways,
but in other ways I am very up-to-date…
I am sentimental about “the old days”,
but I also believe that you have to act
on something when you feel it
before it is too late.

Most of the time I imagine
and I daydream while I am on the move…
I write everywhere I go:
on planes, on trains, on buses,
in the middle of a bustling cafe,
or in the silent solitude of my bedroom…
what I write about I never plan in great detail,
usually I try to let the moment talk to me
and inspire me before I decide…
when I write I draw everything and everyone towards me,
I open my eyes as wide as they will go,
and I write and I create art
without having to try too hard.

Using all the tools that you have
at any given time is the key…
writing from the heart is the blood
that flows through every poet’s poetry…
writing and creating does not always have to be
strictly with a pen, a pencil, a paintbrush,
or even with the keyboard of a computer –
I once created a piece of art
on a sandy beach on the island of Jersey…
of course I will write with a pen again –
but this poem is one of the few that I have written
from beginning to end solely on a mobile-phone,
and I will always remember it as being a wonderful example
of my gift to be able to create art
and write when the need arises
to write to some “mobile poetry”.

My Novel ‘The Wolf In Me’ is out now!

“This is the tale of Olivia Hunter… this is the tale of how she lived, how she died, and how she was reborn. This is the story of an ordinary young woman propelled into an extraordinary world.”

My novel ‘The Wolf In Me’ is out now! And you can get a copy of my new book and my first novel from Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes&Noble, The Book Depository, and many other online book sellers, in paperback and as an ebook!

You can also listen to me talking about ‘The Wolf In Me’, what it’s about, and why I wrote it:

I hope you enjoy reading my new book and my first novel!

-Mark

My novelette ‘The Man In Black’ is out now!

Click the link above and get your copy of my new ebook for Amazon Kindle!

“I began writing this short-story in the summer of 2016, following the untimely death of one of our greatest and most gifted artists, icons, musicians, and inspirations, David Bowie – who died on the 10th of January, 2016. After he died I was so shocked to hear of his passing, and like most people I sort-out his music and I listened to everything he had ever made and created – and I also saw countless artists and musicians paying their own personal and heart-felt tributes to “David Bowie” in any way that they could: through music, through art – and I too wanted to contribute something. I wrote a poem dedicated and in honour of David Bowie after he died, called “Always the Starman“, and I shared it for other people to read. However, I was itching to write a new poem or a new short-story that spoke about things that I wanted to say… and that was when the initial idea for my story “The Man in Black” came to life and I began writing it. “David Bowie” walked into this story all by himself, just like the “Man in Black” does, and he naturally made himself at home in it – and in my story he will always be. Throughout my writing of my short-story I listened to David Bowie’s music continuously, and I hope that I have captured a part of his spirit. This is not a story about “David Bowie” per se, but it is a story inspired by him. I hope you enjoy it!” -Mark

‘The Wolf In Me’ by Mark Hastings, coming soon…

My first novel ‘The Wolf In Me’, coming soon…

My Poem ‘The Good Reader’

From acorn to tree…
to paper… to writer…
from life to inspiration…
from the pen of a poet…
to the eyes
and the imagination of a reader…
from out of a cloud of chaos…
something new… something personal…
something that like the person
writing it down and the place
from where the paper
it is being written on came from…
something incredible made believable…
something two-dimensional brought to life
so that it may walk the walk of words
and then take a leap from the page
into the mind of the one
who is reading what is being described…
a world imagined and captured
like a bolt of lightning in a bottle…
something that is a testament
to the power of the human mind…
it is amazing what a writer can do
and what pattern of magical words
they can weave…
it is amazing what a writer
can make a person believe…
epic journey’s have begun
and have been taken
by readers following every word
of every sentence of a writer’s story…
adventures of every height, depth,
and distance have been undertaken
by people who yearn to escape reality
and let their mind and their heart run-free…
over the centuries and after all the tales
that have been told there is still nothing
better to read than a story
that is based on true-events…
even to this day there is no better thing
to experience than to be told a story
and to hear a story while sitting around
a campfire at night with a group of friends…
ghost-stories, recollections,
tales of what, where, when, how, and who with…
some stories sometimes are so amazing
and miraculous that it is hard to know
what is imaginary and what is the real-thing…
a story, like a dream, is a world
that everybody steps into, lives,
and then takes something away from…
a story, a book, a world of characters
and people who we find within a tale
that must be told and read
can teach us something that we never knew
and it can also tell us something
about ourselves…
in countless bookstores, libraries,
on countless displays and book-shelves,
there is untold treasure to be found,
infinite sunsets and sunrises to be seen,
as if staring at the horizon from a pier…
sometimes it is just impossible
to put a book or a story down
once you have begun reading it –
and no matter where a book
or a story takes you
there is only one thing that you can do,
and only one thing that you want to do:
follow the words of a writer
and be a good reader.

img_20170302_171638_057

My Poem ‘The Morning After’

Two opposing sides…
two opposite ideologies…
two different leaders…
two people skilled
in vastly different ways –
and in the end, in the aftermath
of a confrontation of ideas,
perspectives, of brutal words and actions,
when the dust has settled,
when the crowds have disbursed,
when the truth of a moment finally “hits home”,
when the pain from tears that fell the night before
starts to sting again…
What do you do? Where do you go?
How do you pick up the pieces and put back together
the only picture you have ever known?
No matter what happened, no matter what might happen next,
the only thing you or anyone can possibly do
is carry on and hold on to hope
that one day the nightmare of your current reality
too will come to an end,
and things will get better again.
It’s hard at first to see
how you are going to cope,
especially when you know
that the immediate days and months
are going to be a tough adjustment –
but nothing lasts forever,
and one day even a once abandoned garden
will soon bear new flowers and new fruit,
and the world will grow again
into being something more familiar to you…
there are always casualties in every battle,
there are always winners and there are always losers,
there is always a change of colours and of livery
when there is an invasion of a castle,
and there is always fear –
especially in the face of uncertainty;
but, this time will pass…
in time, another army of soldiers and followers
will follow a new opposing leader
and retake all that was lost;
in the aftermath of anything sudden and shocking,
it can be hard to see a time
through a storm of bad weather –
however, one day this time now too
will just be another page in the book of history,
and there will be a brand new sunrise
that will guide you and everyone
to a new world future
and a hopeful brand new morning after.

(Written the morning after the US election, in 2016, in which Donald Trump was elected as the 45th President of the United States of America 😦 )

My short-story/poem ‘The Trick-or-Treaters’

the-trick-or-treaters
Just before the sun went down
on October 31st,
on the evening of Halloween,
two brothers, Isaac and Reece,
and their little-sister, Hailie,
left their house to go walking up their street
to go knocking on the doors of their neighbours
and to say in one voice the phrase of the hour:
“trick-or treat”.
Every year, on Halloween, these three siblings
loved getting dressed up from head-to-toe
in costumes of their own choosing –
and this year, like every year,
Hailie was a “ghost”, Reece was a “Vampire”,
and Isaac was a “werewolf”,
and every year when they got home from “trick-or-treating”
they always returned with more candy
than they knew what to do with…
going door-to-door with one-another
was a tradition that these three loved reenacting –
come clouds and rain, or under clear sky and moon-shine;
however, they only went up the street and back again,
and since they lived in a cul-de-sac
the sooner that their trick-or-treating began
in no time at all it soon came to a sad end for another year.

Every year it was all treats and no tricks-
but, since this year there was a new neighbour
that had moved into their road,
Reece in particular hoped that maybe this year
they might return home with more
than just a bag full of sweets.

The new neighbours lived in the house
at the end of the road, up a driveway,
where a lady used to live
who had more cats than could ever be counted –
but who had sadly passed-away;
Reece, Isaac, and Hailie, did not know
the late-lady well, only her name:
“Mrs. Leech” – however, word got around
and it was thought that now
her sister had taken on her house
following Mrs. Leech’s passing,
and her name was apparently: “Ms. Beetle” –
“like the car, and not the British band”,
the mailman had recently pointed out.

It was Halloween again,
and Hailie, Reece, and Isaac
had knocked on every door of their street – but one –
and all three were carrying a considerable
amount of treats to return home with;
however, they had not yet visited Ms. Beetle’s house,
which they had left until last on purpose.

The walk up the driveway to Ms. Beetle’s house
at the bottom of the street was done slowly –
and as soon as the trio of siblings walked up
onto the wooden porch of Ms. Beetle’s house,
and they knocked on the front-door,
neither one of them knew what to expect –
however, they certainly didn’t expect
the door to open seemingly on its own,
and they most certainly didn’t expect to see
Ms. Beetle dressed all in black
mixing away at a giant cauldron-shaped
black container with bubbles and gases
jetting up from the green mixture…
and they most certainly, definitely,
did not expect Ms. Beetle to look
at all three of them and say:
“so, what will it be? Trick or treat?”
Ms. Beetle then began to cackle at the top of her lungs –
and that was when all three of the kids screamed,
then turned around, and jumped off
of Ms. Beetle’s porch, and they ran
all the way up the street and all the way home,
leaving behind all their treats
that they had collected from the night.

The next day, their was a knock at the door
of Hailie, Reece, and Isaac’s house –
and when their Mom answered the door
Ms. Beetle was standing there on the other side
and smiling from ear-to-ear
and holding out in front of her
the three bags of candy that the kids had left behind.
Ms. Beetle apologized for the night before,
and she gave the kids their bags of candy
and she told them that she was pleased to meet them,
and that this year she gave them both a trick and a treat –
but she also said that there was no telling
what she was going to do next year,
and the only way they would know
would be if they were brave enough
to come knocking on her door again,
and all ask her: “trick-or-treat”?

My Poem ‘Buzzing’

When you get some good news,
it is like you are a honeybee
drunk on the nectar of a flower;
when you hear that things are happening
the way that you hoped they would,
it can feel like you are walking on air;
when you are told something that makes the world
look even more bright and beautiful,
you cannot help but smile from ear-to-ear;
when you see evidence
that whatever you have been doing
for longer than you can remember
actually has meaning and matters,
you start to see and feel happiness
as if it were something new
that you had never known before,
and you start to believe that there is someone
in this world who truly does care.

A new car, a new job –
the means and the motivation to go where you want
so that you can do what you want to do
is something that some people take for granted;
a new direction, a new life –
the freedom to be something and somebody different
in a brand new environment
is something that some people have never had,
but it is what they have always wanted;
a new story, a new chapter –
a break-away from the cycle of the monotony
that some people often fall into
and sometimes cannot figure out
how to see what else is out there
that they may have been missing;
a new opportunity to shine
comes like a brand new sunrise –
but sometimes to get something in return
you have to put something of yourself out there first –
like tossing a coin into a well, or a fountain…
sometimes you have to spend a token of your own
so that you can stimulate and disturb the waters
of that to which you are wishing.

Being at the right place, at the right time,
is not a science – it is a matter of fate;
being at the right point in your life
for you to be gifted your hearts-desire
sometimes only happens once –
it is like the feeling of butterflies in your stomach
that you get when you suddenly stop
but the world feels like it is still spinning;
being on the verge of a new adventure
is always amazing beyond any words
that could ever be estimated;
being hopeful, happy, enthusiastic, and optimistic,
at any time that you are lucky to feel that way
is a blessing to your heart, your mind, and to your soul,
that makes every part of you feel
like they are in a state of ‘fluttering’ –
like the sound of the wings of a bumble-bee
that vibrate so fast they are quite literally buzzing.

TCTTS: First verse

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