poem

My Poem “The Shining Light”

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

Seventeen years ago,
when the whole world looked at the images
being shown on television,
it felt like we were all witnessing
the world coming to an end
as we watched twinned towers fall to the ground…
nobody knew what they were seeing,
nobody knew what was going to happen next…
I can still see in my mind’s eye
the scenes of devastation,
I can still hear the sounds of fear
that echoed from one of our planet’s
greatest and most courageous nations…
tears were shed, and they continue to be shed to this day…
lives were lost on an unimaginable scale,
and to this day people all around the world
still have nightmares about the tragic events
of September 11, 2001, and they always will.

Five years ago, I stood where the shadows
of the two towers of the World Trade Center
once fell, in New York City,
where two giant pools of water now ripple
in their footprints and are refilled continuously –
and though surrounded all around by people
who had also come to pay their respects,
remember, and read the memorialized names
of all the people who lost their lives
on that day of days that could never be forgotten,
it was as I stood there looking down at the pools,
it was as I stood there looking around at everyone,
and it was as I stood there looking up
to the Freedom Tower that now stands
like a beacon of hope for all the world to be guided by
that I found myself overwhelmed by remorse, by sadness,
and also by a powerful spirit that spoke
directly to my heart and soul.

The power of hope, the gift of freedom,
the opportunity of optimism,
the wonderland of dreams that is the United States of America
will never be brought to their knees –
no matter what their enemies try to do to them…
the people of the United States of America will continue
to live, to endure, and to fight for what they believe in,
and they will continue to stay standing true, strong,
defiant, hopeful, and confident that they are
and they always will be a shining light
of aspiration and inspiration for the entire world.

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My Poem “My Lover”

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

Whether face to face, or behind you,
I will always love you
like you have never been loved before…
whether it is first thing in the morning,
or last thing at night,
I will always be thinking about you
and I will always be mesmerized
by your beautiful face
like a lightning bug to firelight…
whether side by side in bed with one another,
or separated from one another by an ocean,
the love that I feel for you
will never lessen and I will always wish
that I could give you all that I am –
because you are my sunshine,
you are my heart’s desire,
you are my soulmate, you are my heaven…
whether the weather outside is beautiful,
or pouring down with rain,
my heart will always be yours
and my love for you will always be the reason
that I will never stop worshiping everything about you –
from your perfect face to your magical name…
I could never stop loving you…
there will never be another…
loving you is the one and only thing that I want to do…
there will always be a you and there will always be a me –
because, my lover, you and I are meant to be.

My Poem “Sapiophile”

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

There is always more than meets the eye…
there is always more to life
than any of us could ever quantify…
there is always more than you alone can find…
there is always more to a person
that is constantly waiting to come to light…
there is always history… there is always mystery…
there is always entropy –
however, there is always the improbability of nature
that always surprises us and maintains a natural balance
of order that has worked perfectly for billions of years
which gives everyone an opportunity
to see what they believe and to believe what they see…
there is always complexity in simplicity…
there is always music in silence –
even within the space that lies
between the stars of the galaxies of the universe
there can always be heard a cosmic symphony
that encapsulates the true meaning of life,
love, music, that plays so emphatically
that its beauty can be too much for some to comprehend
without feeling the fear that sometimes rises
from within those who gaze into the vastness of infinity…
there is something about the world
that always captures a person’s imagination
and makes them want to know more –
that which comes from our inner instincts and drives
to explore beyond our boundaries and leap
into a world far removed from the one that we know
and see every day in order to learn and understand
something wonderful that we never knew before
but which we had always been searching for.

My Poem “Every Day’s Eye”

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

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 “Working”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , ,

Working all the time is not good for your mind…
Working all the time can sometimes bring out your bad side…
Working all the time is not good for your health…
Working all the time may earn you money –
but everybody knows that there is more to life than a person’s wealth…
Working all the time can be stressful…
Working all the time can be emotional…
Working all the time can sometimes make it hard to breathe…
Working all the time can sometimes make you feel like
you are chained to your workstation and unable to leave…
Working all the time can sometimes mean sacrificing
a part of your life that means more to you than words can say…
Working all the time can feel like you are
stuck in a cycle of obsession that you repeat day after day…
Working all the time is what we all need to stop doing…
Working all the time without a break and without recognition
for all your hard work is like being a member
of a team that is constantly losing…
Working all the time will do you no good…
Working on something that makes you happy,
in between the hours that you have to give over
to that which pays the bills,
is the thing that at the end of every day
will always fill you with the most joy:
that which you put all of yourself into,
but at no point while you are doing it
does it ever feel like you are working.

My Poem “Meant to be”

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

Looking up to the golden sky
at 8 o’clock at night,
what I see looks really nice –
but something just doesn’t feel right…
I see the sun, the star of our planet –
but I just want the light of my life,
the love of my life, the woman of my dreams,
who I love more with every heart-beat…
all I want to do is give all my love
that shines brighter than all the stars above…
all I want to do is make you, Melissa,
my wife until the end of time,
and cross my heart and hope to die
never tell a lie when I tell you
who I see when I look at you
and when you look back at me –
because to me, baby, you are my destiny
and the one who is meant for me,
because you and I are meant to be…
I want you to always know
that I love you and I am never going to let you go –
because you are my everything,
and every time I close my eyes
it is your face that fills my mind,
and every time I feel alone
it is your love that calls me home…
so take my words and carry them deep
and let them take you off to sleep
into your dreams of you and me
and of our love that is meant to be.

My Poem “The Dance that never ends”

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

It feels like a long time
since I was allowed to stop,
to sit, to look, to listen,
to read, to write, to take in the voices,
the songs, the sounds, the music of life
like I used to –
there is always something else to do,
there is always somewhere else to be,
there is always some staple of necessity
that always seems to get in my way
of being the dreamer I love to be
and gladly welcoming any and every
opportunity to engage in a wandering
of inspiration and discovery…
it feels like it has been a long time
since I took a walk through a woodland,
left my footprints in the wet sand of a beach,
or watched the sun rise while listening
to the many birds singing
in the bushes and in the trees
in chorus with one another at dawn –
it is moments like this, when my time is my own,
when I feel like a soldier that has just returned home
from a theater of war…
it feels like only yesterday that I felt
the world stop spinning,
when Melissa and I shared our first kiss
and it feels like only yesterday
that I saw her for the first time
and I fell madly in love
with every perfect inch of her beautiful face…
it feels like only yesterday
that I tossed my silver coin into that wishing-well
and I made my silent wish…
it feels like today is yesterday all over again
when my memories of quintessential moments of happiness
return to the surface of my consciousness,
that are so powerful that they can fool me
into thinking that they are happening right now,
and it is times that happened years ago
that even to this day still feel vivid and tangible,
that I live to remember, to return to,
and to feel as if they are happening
over and over again like a dance that never ends.