A Poem A Day #251: Perfectly Imperfect

“Perfectly Imperfect” 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
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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.

My Poem “The Rings of Saturn”

While growing up,
when asked by someone:
what my favourite planet
of the solar system was?
I would always immediately respond
by saying the name
of the most renowned
and the most instantly identifiable
and recognisable ring-encircled
“Gas Giant” that almost everybody
on Earth is familiar with,
and that Giant of the night sky
is the one and only planet Saturn.

Why has Saturn been my favourite
planet since I was a child,
and not Mars? Jupiter?
Neptune? Or Mercury?
Well, I am not entirely sure;
however, for whatever reason,
there has literally always been
a gravity that has been
drawing my attention
to Saturn in particular –
perhaps it is because
every time that I have seen images
of its vast, iconic, beautiful,
and incredible ring system
that surrounds it,
that is all made up of tiny pieces
of rock and ice that all seem
to fit together perfectly
and combine harmoniously to create
an example of natural astrological art,
there always seems to be a synergy
that to me is symbolic
of some many fundamental things
that I believe life it’s true meaning.

To me, the rings of Saturn
symbolize how life and the universe
is in a constant state of revolution
and almost clock-work like precision,
and depending upon which
vantage point certain things
are being observed from
that can have a fundamental effect
on how they are perceived;
for example, when seen along their
peripheral edge the rings of Saturn
are almost imperceptible,
but when seen from above
or from below the majestic magnificence
of Saturn’s rings show just how
spectacular they are to behold.

From a singular human
perspective and interpretation,
the rings of Saturn resemble
a vinyl-record ingrained with
the music of an artist –
and, just like a record spinning
on a turntable, people here on Earth
have been able to find a way to listen,
to interpret, to record, and to share
the music being generated
by this impressive world,
that just like every spinning
sphere of the cosmos –
be it a star, a moon , or a planet –
is constantly resonating a signal,
a voice, a music, a song
that can only be heard by those
with the right ears to hear it.

The universe, the galaxy,
the solar system of planets
that Earth is a part of
has always been a source
of exploration and discovery,
of intrigue and inspiration,
and thanks to the inventions
of some of our most inspired
and innovative creators and inventors
we have all been able to have
the privilege to see, to hear,
and to feel the pull of
some of the cosmos’ most
awe-inspiring and incredible phenomena;
however, to me, no matter what else
is discovered and uncovered
behind the dark veil of space,
I will always look to and consider
the impressive ringed world
of Saturn to be among the most exceptional
and evocative wonders of the universe.

My Poem “Like a Moth to a Flame”

I am the moth
and you are the flame,
I have a fever
and you are to blame…
I write poetry
as if I were spinning silk,
and you are my muse
and the angel to whom
I pledge my undying love to
and I always will…
I have been drawn to you
since I first saw the perfection
of your face and the ethereal fire
of magic in your eyes,
and to me you have always been
and you always be the wolf of my heart
that can never be tamed
but who needs to be reminded of
just how amazing you are
and the reasons why
I will never look away from you
or ever go leave your side –
because I am in awe of you
morning, noon, and night
like a moth to the flame of firelight.

My Poem “Roses”

Roses are like people,
they come in many different colours…
Roses are delicate…
Roses are strong…
Roses are some peoples’ favourite flower…
some people believe that roses
symbolize perfection
and that the perfume that they breathe out
is what you would breathe in
if you were to take a walk
through a garden in heaven.

To some people roses are
the flower of love…
to some people roses are
what you give to the one you love
on Valentine’s day, on an anniversary,
or at any time of the year
when you want to give someone a gift
that comes from the heart.

Roses symbolize beauty…
Roses embody life…
Roses can mean many things
to many people…
Roses, like people, should never
be underestimated –
and the closer that you get to a rose
the more that you should be aware
of their petals, their strong stems,
and also the thorns that they wear
for protection.

Roses are given, roses are received…
Roses bloom for a short time
and then they return to place
from where once came…
Roses will always mean something
profound to those who know
and understand the meaning of life,
of love, and the perfect dream of who
and what we will someday find
waiting for us all in the multicolored
vistas of heaven above
where roses can be found
lining every street.

My Poem “Every Day’s Eye”

Just like the delicate petals of a daisy,
every day we all open our eyes
and we see a thing of beauty…
just like the rise of the sun at dawn,
every day a new light is born
that brings new meaning to someone’s life
that they had never known before…
just like a downpour of rain on a hot summer’s day,
every day we can all find moments
of cleansing perfection that steals
all of our attention and brings delicacy
to the way that we see the poetry in the streets
and the gifts of reflection that we see in the mirror…
just like a feeling within that you want to shout out loud,
some messages that you read and some signs that you see
come to you in times of great need
and in ways that echo throughout your mind…
just like the multi-colored and multi-faceted world
that you see during the day,
and just like the shining sparks of light
that glow from a distance at night,
there lies an innumerable amount of truths
to be found when we look,
and when the delicate petals of every flower
of the universe open to reveal
the infinitely complex iris
at the centre of every day’s eye.

My Poem ‘Heaven smells like roses’

I believe that if hell smells like fire,
then heaven must smell like roses…
I believe that if you doubt yourself,
then you are only doing the devil’s work for them…
I believe that if you do not want
to fall under the spell of internal darkness
then I would suggest that you hold on
to the most powerful gift of all: faith,
and see where that faith in yourself will take you…
I believe that if at a young age
you think that you know every thing
that there is to know about life,
then you are in for a long life
full of surprises…
I believe that if you try not to focus
too much on the past
and what other people once made you feel about yourself
then you may actually be able to see past
the invisible mask that you wear
and which only you can see,
and then finally you will see
that you are somebody who is truly beautiful.

The sun makes both flowers and people bloom
when they feel its energizing rays…
in the light of a summer’s day
is when you can see elements
of heaven on Earth in full-display…
the sun is like a drug
that can instantly make you smile
and put you in a good mood…
the summer is a precious and memorable time –
especially around the summer holiday season
and the month of Flaming June.

I save special days and heavenly experiences
in my mind and I relive them in my day-dreams,
especially on cold and rainy winter days…
I try to remember as much as I can
about a time that I know I will always consider
to be special, one of a kind, and important to me…
when I think back to when I was a child,
even then I remember the days and the nights of summer
as being the times when the beauty of nature
made me feel happy and the most blessed…
some things are too unmistakable for words to ascribe…
some things are always going to be
a matter of faith and belief –
in god, or perhaps in yourself?
I believe that we were given seeds
from which to grow new gardens,
because we need to learn
that the path to happiness
and the revelation of perfection
can only come to us
when we see ourselves for who we are in our heart,
and when we realize that wherever heaven is
and whenever we go there
we will instantly know for sure, as I believe,
that heaven does in fact smell of roses.

My Poem ‘Where did you come from? I wasn’t expecting you?’

Within the blink of an eye,
within the flash of a burst of sunlight,
within an instant of time,
within a single simple impression
that touches you
when you see something
or someone at first-sight…
have you ever considered
what that moment is made up of
and where it comes from?
Have you ever thought about
what all the world
and all life is built upon?

There is always a before,
and there is always an after…
there is always energy,
and there is always matter…
there are always things
that you can’t understand
until you go through them…
there are always realities
that you can’t imagine
until you see them…
the most undeniable thing about life
is that you can never know everything
about it, about everyone who makes it,
about the depths and the secrets
of the universe beyond the sky
and our galaxy’s periphery outer-limit –
because every sphere has its own world…
every place has its own laws of nature…
every planet, every region of space,
has its own history, creation, story,
leaps in evolution, and future.

There is a reason for everything…
there is a reason we are all here…
there is a reason why nothing
can suddenly turn into something…
there is a reason for hope…
there is a reason for fear…
there is a reason for why
there are things that we need to know,
and there is a reason and a meaning
behind what makes us smile
and what brings us to tears.

Some things in life we hope for,
we plan for, we expect,
and we need to happen
to give our life the drive
and the spark to fill the world
with all that we were born to give…
sometimes when you are not expecting
to find paradise or perfection
you can stumble upon an oasis
or someone who to you is the most beautiful…
some things are so precious and meaningful,
and in every way they must be held
close to your heart as a gift…
sometimes life can become so simple,
especially when you look up
and you see something new
and you say to yourself loud and clear:
where did you come from?
I wasn’t expecting you?

My Poem ‘O.C.D. Me’

I don’t think I have ever met anyone
in my entire life
who does not have an
obsessive compulsion to something;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have a daily-routine;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who does not have something
to which they are drawn;
I don’t think I have ever met anyone
who, at one time or another,
who does not over-think…
to me, everybody has O.C.D. –
everybody has a desire to find
happiness through order;
everybody knows when they look around themselves
what the picture should be;
everybody knows that for every call
there must be a caller.

We all sometimes need reassurance about some things
in order to live a life without constant worry –
sometimes, however, our worries follow us
wherever we go…
some people cannot sleep properly
unless they find out things
that they don’t know;
we are all sometimes our own worst-enemy;
however, it is not always out fault –
because there are times when things
play on our mind, subconsciously,
and thoughts become like a bird
trapped in a house
just looking for a way out
so that they can fly-free.

Those with an O.C.D.
read every-thing into everything;
those with an O.C.D.
listen to the same songs over and over;
those with an O.C.D.
repeat the same things;
those with an O.C.D.
always remember.

As a writer, I am not afraid to admit
that when it comes to my writing
I have an obsessive-compulsion
to try and not make mistakes
in whatever I write –
I, however, am a human writer,
and not a machine who functions
and who is run by programs and mathematics;
whenever I see a mistake that I have made
it does play upon my mind –
however, after a while,
I eventually resign myself
to accepting that which I cannot control –
and I take a breath and do not panic… too much.

For some people, their O.C.D.
controls their entire life;
for some people, their O.C.D.
is what keeps them awake
when it is the dead of the night;
for some people, if they do not do something
then it could never be seen by them as done right;
for some people, their O.C.D. just takes over,
and something in their brain just takes control,
of their actions and they simply can’t help it.

My Poem ‘No comparison’

I’ve walked the Earth…
I’ve searched the stars…
I’ve been waiting to be
with you all my life…
I’ve seen love in the eyes of others –
but I have never seen a love
as breathtaking as ours.

It began before we met…
it started when our heart’s
first began beating…
it started when we were born
of our parents under the sunlight
that constantly shines down
upon our beautiful planet…
it all began before even
the first birds began tweeting.

You and I, me and you –
we are one of a kind,
we are unbelievably special…
we make new music together
every time we speak…
we fall in love with each other
over and over again…
we would not be the same people
without each other,
nor would we be as happy as can be…
we are one and the same,
and that is something
that could only we could ever understand.

It’s because of you
that my heart feels like
it is beating a thousand times a second…
it’s because of you
that nothing could ever compare…
it’s because of you
that I believe that for each
and every one of us God has a plan…
it’s because of you
that I look at your picture
at all hours of the day
and I dream of being with you
over and over again
within every timeless moment that I stare.

I have never loved anyone like I love you…
I have never thanked God more for anything
than I do when I thank him for you…
you have been the most beautiful to me
since the first picture that I saw of you…
because you are my passion,
because you are my obsession,
because you are my addiction,
because in all the world,
because on all the planets
that circle those distant lights of perfection,
there is nothing and no one
as gorgeous, nor as amazing, as you…
because, Melissa, to me, to you,
there is no comparison.

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