poem

My Poem ‘To the sun and back’

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

The light of the sun is so alluring…
the heat from the sun is so energizing…
the rays of the sun can sometimes
be so intense that can be burning…
what the sun has in abundance
and we sometimes take for granted and forget
is that it has more power
over our world-wide destiny –
and just as we have learned to harness
a fraction of our sun’s potential,
over time the star that shines
every hour that our planet is turning
will allow us to rise and realize
our own collective-potential –
but, as with every thing of power,
for every blessing there is also a warning
to not spend too much time
looking too intensely
and too longingly at the sun,
because too much of something can be damaging.

Our planet orbits the sun at the perfect distance
for life to exist, to thrive, and to evolve…
it is the gravity of our primary-star
that lies at the centre of our solar-system
that has made it possible for wonders of creation
to blossom and speckle the lands and the skies
of humanities planetary-family…
we do not own the sun and we never will,
our closest star will always have dominion over us –
and all it asks of us for what is gives so freely
is to have the foresight to know
when enough is enough…
the sun was and still is a source
of both worship and energy for many.

I have always considered the light
and the heat from the sun as a blessing,
and when I am being shined upon by its sunshine
I always feel as energized as a fully-charged battery…
the sun will always be both the fuel
and the engine of our planet
that will inform many of our choices in the future,
just as it has been in the past…
getting close to a fire can be dangerous
and it can be destructive –
but you can capture more than enough magic
from a single spark to fill your life
if you know and if you keep to a safe limit…
I have been as close as can be to a fire,
and I have on occasion been burned –
but I know what you can find
if you truly look around
at where you are and when you are
when you bask in the light, the heat,
and the inspiration of our world’s star,
and there is no telling what amazing things
each of us can find in the light and in the energy
that can be found when we travel
with our eyes and with our mind and our imagination
to the sun and back.

My Poem ‘Heaven smells like roses’

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

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 ‘Plane-spotting’

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

There are things that I remember
from when I was a kid
that are still so full of colour
and still so vivid and clear…
there are places that are forever
preserved within my memory
from when I was a child
that I can always return to
within the blink of an eye…
there are times when you think back
on your life and your memory
can play tricks on you
and you can accidentally and falsely
remember things that never really happened –
but, when I close my eyes
and I think back to being ten years-old again,
on a summer Sunday evening
just before the sun went down,
and I can see my Mum, my little-sister,
my Dad, and I can see my own face
being reflected in the rear-view mirror
of our family car as we prepare to go home
after a busy afternoon of plane-spotting.

My Dad has always been a train-spotter,
a plane-spotter, a car-driver,
and when he was younger
he was even a motorcycle-rider…
my Dad has always been a music-lover…
my Dad has always been the best father…
my Dad has always been of a lover
rather than a fighter…
I learned from a young age
that when it comes to deciding
and knowing what the best thing to do
in any given situation at any time of the day or night,
then my Dad is the one who always knows better.

Everybody who has ever met my Dad
never forgets my Dad –
my Dad has one of those faces
that hasn’t changed that much since he was a school-boy
growing up in his home-village of Coleshill…
when I was younger, as a family
we were always going to airports and air-shows
so that we could see and marvel
at the aircraft that we saw souring through the sky,
and my Dad always knew what every plane was
and he could tell you what type they were
with a single look…
going to places with my family when I was a kid
are timeless memories that I will never forget
because they mean so much to me…
I will always remember those moments
when I would look at my Dad
and I could see the genuine joy
that he took from being with his family
who he loved while he did something
that he had been doing since he was a kid…
whenever I see a plane taking off now,
or whenever I am flying on a plane as a passenger,
I always flash-back to when I was a boy
when my Dad would pack up the car
and we as a family would all go
plane-spotting.

My Poem ‘Scorching’

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

Days like this are filled with energy…
days like this when it is hot and sunny…
days like this are what inspire me…
days like this when I am free to be,
without four walls constantly surrounding me,
are precious and they go by so fast
that sometimes I can mistake my memories
of such days as dreams…
days like this are special…
days like this are perfect and beautiful…
days like this feel wonderful…
days like this are when you want so badly
to be with the one you love…
the sunshine is so divine…
the summer air is intoxicating…
seeing everybody basking
in the bright light feels gratifying.

Poetry presents itself in infinite ways:
through colour, through art,
through temptations to the senses,
through songs, through signs…
when you know and when you have felt
the power of the sun and its energy
running through your veins,
the inspiration and the expression
that you can conjure afterwards
is worth all the dark and cloudy days
through which you have been living and waiting…
no matter if you are walking
the avenues of New York City,
or sitting on a porch
in Georgia with your soulmate –
as long as the sun is high in the sky
and the breeze is cool
the unmistakable flood of natural energy
that is all around you
can be all that you need
to fuel all that you do,
all that you think,
and all that you feel.

Our world turns silently and perfectly
in a universe surrounded by life,
light, and wonders that are so infinite in number
that they both tell their own story
and also become a part of the story
of the world who looks upon them…
days like today are like enjoying every mouthful
of your favourite meal…
days like today drive the paint-brush of an artist
and they can inspire the words
that a writer writes with their pen…
the promise of a day as beautiful as today is exciting…
days like today can get you hooked on a feeling
and on a wave of believing…
days like today are worth keeping…
days like today can be described perfectly
with a single word: “scorching”.

My Poem ‘Be’

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

Somebody amazing,
beautiful, wonderful,
and inspiring recently said something
that I have been meaning to share…
a message, a motto, words to live by:
“Be You. Be Happy. Love Always.”
and “Don’t Let Anyone Get You Down” –
a gift of words, a talisman of protection,
a broadcast of hope, an optimistic way
of looking at the world,
and something that means more
than even the person who wrote
and shared this short, but powerful,
message could ever imagine.

Some things come and go so fast
within the snap of a finger,
while others endure long into the future…
dreams are made, dreams fade,
and then dreams drift-away,
to one day be captured
and dreamed again by a different person,
in a different way, on a different day…
real-life choices leave traces of themselves,
like a name written in wet-cement,
and they return to the forefront of your mind
whether you are sleeping or awake…
very few people in this world
have touched the heart of so many –
but it is not how forceful you say something
that gives a message its power,
and it is more than how strong
what words you build your message out of
that makes them so quotable and repeatable…
some times it is who is saying something
that means more than how they are saying it.

The most fragile people in this world
are also sometimes the strongest people
you will ever meet in your life…
the most caring people
are those who sleep the least
because they are too busy worrying
about the happiness of others
every hour of every day and night…
if you want to know what are
the most important ingredients
to ensure a happy and long life,
I have learned that they are:
to be yourself, to never stop loving,
and to never let anybody get you down –
and if you can do those things
then you will not believe
what you will find
and what will follow you everywhere you go,
and whatever the time of the day happens to be…
see it… believe it… feel it…
and all that you truly need will come to be.

Inspired by this tweet:

My Poem ‘Mobile Poetry’

Mark Hastings 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 Poem ‘Manchester’

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

A minute of silence…
a handful of moments…
a precious gift to those
who tragically lost their lives…
sixty seconds of stillness
to remember the children of Manchester.

Only days ago
young and old gathered-together
to enjoy the music of their idol…
not even a week ago
men and women, girls and boys,
showed their love
and shared the love
that they felt for life
with one-another…
it was only the other day
that new angels were born in heaven.

Time does not stop,
but we cannot move on –
we are all still mourning the loss
of the beautiful and innocent souls
who left their homes
but who will sadly never return.

How can a father, a mother,
a sister, a brother,
a cousin, a niece, a nephew,
a relative, possibly understand
and recover from what has happened?
What can a city, a people, a country,
a way of life, a world do to make sure
that the selfish and murderous deeds
of a demonic coward that walks among us
does not win a battle in the epic struggle
that is constantly being fought
between good and evil?

The only way to keep somebody
and something alive
is to never forget them…
the only way that I know how to live
is to hope for the best
and to pray that the entire world
will one day all share
the same hopes for one-another.

After something indescribable
and shocking happens
being there for those in need
is what is the most important…
today and everyday,
everybody and everywhere,
all over the world,
will never forget
and they will always remember
the lights that went out
and were reborn in heaven,
who were born in a city
and in a country
who they will always be a part of,
and they will always remain
in the hearts and in the minds of
the people of Great Britain
and the great city of Manchester.

Dedicated to all the children and all the men and women who lost their lives on the 25th of May, 2017, and for all of the people who have been affected by the horror that took place in Manchester… you will never be forgotten.