poem

My Poem “The Forbidden”

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

The draw of the forbidden…
the urge to explore
the places where very few
people have been before…
the instinct to reveal the truth
of that which is hidden,
the call of the wild
that has compelled many people
to seek out, to feel,
and to capture the energy
and the spirit that some things
naturally emanate –
symbolized in many stories
as being an apple, a chalice, a ring,
a fountain, a plant, a monolith,
a message left for others to find
so that they may experience
profound revelations that will
fundamentally change the way
that they see the world,
as well as change how they see themselves,
are as prevalent in the tales
that humanity has been telling itself
since the beginning of language
and the start of our path of discovering
who we are and what we are
in the grand scheme of universal understanding.

It is the quest of the forbidden that gives
a journey into the unknown its potency…
it is the question of what lies beyond
all the maps that have been drawn
that has attracted all the explorers
that have ever been born…
it is the danger of a forbidden vortex
that storm-chasers lust to race towards
that awakens within them
the same deep longing to push the envelope
of what is possible that precludes
so many people from being able
to silence the voice inside them
that tells them loud and clear
to never decline an opportunity
to take a bite out of
the fruit of the forbidden,
to experience what it takes like,
and to see where it takes you.

My Poem “Verbatim”

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

There is a story behind everything…
there is a reason for everything…
there is a story to be told about everybody…
there is truth to be found
about the human condition
by listening to everybody.

Everybody is capable of being
a storyteller with a varied
and a different perspective
on everything, because
everybody experiences the world uniquely –
which is why no voice
should be ever silenced or muted
because their opinions
do not run in parallel
with that of the status quo…
everybody is capable
of expressing themselves somehow –
even if it is with the power of a stare
or a passive but noticeable gesture
that is a part of the universal
art of getting your point across
and making your intentions known.

Stories are wonderful things –
however, stories have a way
of taking on a life of their own…
some stories can start out
being about something
small and insignificant –
however, when stories are internalized
and personalized then can be reshaped
and retold in many different ways…
stories can be given names –
especially those that were inspired
by real life events and circumstances…
stories always have characters in them –
and on occasion storytellers
often exaggerate the qualities
and the attributes of a particular
character in order to make the story
that they are telling more dramatic…
some stories are referred to as
“Chinese whispers”, because they grow,
because they change, because depending
on how many times they have been told,
heard, retold, and shared –
though the seed at the centre
of the same story remains the same –
little by little, with every passing
iteration and narration,
a story can lose some of it’s most
fundamental facts,
and the devil that is in the details
of a story can become a shadow
of what was initially intended
to be a story told word for word.

My Poem “The Angels of Sacrifice”

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

Remember the many…
Remember the brave…
Remember the lost…
Remember the scared…
Remember the tears…
Remember the cost…
Remember the courage…
Remember the men,
Remember the women,
and Remember the children
who still wear the scars of war,
the scars of chaos, the scars of confusion,
the scars of survival on the outside
and as well as those invisible scars
that they sometimes dwell
upon silently on the inside.

Always Remember why the world is
the way that it is,
and because of whom…
Remember, embrace,
and never forget the stories
of those who suffered through so much
in hope of helping to build
a brighter future for the next generation…
Remember, respect, remind,
and renew every day the gift of freedom
by never taking life for granted,
and by never forgetting all the heroes
who have sacrificed their lives
during times of war and utter darkness
and despair who soldiered on
no matter what for all the people
of every country of this fragile world.

Today, and every day,
if you are lucky enough to be able to do so,
take a moment to close your eyes,
to think, to Remember, and to appreciate
the angels in all their forms
who have walked this Earth –
whom you may have met –
who made a difference to the lives
of everybody simply by going to
where they were needed and by helping
those in the most urgent of need.

I will Remember, I will Never Forget –
and I hope that the memory
of the lost and the fallen
will always live on
in the consciousness of everybody.

Lest we forget.

My Poem “This time of the year”

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

This time of the year
should be filled with peace,
love, joy, and festivities;
however, invariably,
this time of the year
also sees the rise of feelings
and emotions that instantly
bring some people to tears.

At this time of the year
people tend to reach out
and they want to show
the people that they love
and care about just how much
they mean to them;
however, unfortunately,
not everybody who loves someone
is fortunate enough to be able
to have who they love safe and near.

At this time of the year
there are always loved ones
who are separated by a seemingly
insurmountable distance
or by a barrier between them
that keeps them apart.

At this time of the year
it is always hard to find
the words to describe
that which by their nature
transcends language, distance,
memory, and time –
because so much of what
makes life so special
for those who are fully able
to enjoy it and to cherish it
is encapsulated at certain
times of the year,
and most notably at Christmas time.

This time of the year
should be celebratory…
this time of the year
should be wonderful…
this time of the year
should be gift worthy;
however, the truth is
that this time of the year
is not everybody’s favourite
time of the year
because they may be
missing someone in particular,
because they may be
missing something that they have lost,
because they may be missing
the irreplaceable,
because they may be missing
the times when things
appeared to be easy, simple, and clear –
and that is why it is more important
than ever to be extra sensitive
to everybody you meet
at this time of the year,
because everybody is going through
uniquely personal things in their life,
and especially during the “holiday season”
that is this time of the year.

My Poem “BANG!”

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

I can smell smoke in the air –
I can smell the potent aroma
of a fire burning in the distance…
I can hear the sound of explosions
echoing from an unknown direction –
no doubt the early launches
of fireworks purchased
for Bon Fire Night, tonight –
November the Fifth,
“Guy Fawkes Night”;
however, because there is
a thick blanket of dark cloud
above my head, I cannot see
the glory of the colour
no doubt brightening the sky somewhere.

There is a fine downpour of rain
that falls upon my face
as I gaze above to see
if I can glimpse what I can hear,
what I can smell, what I can feel –
however, it seems almost impossible
to be able to see anything
beyond the clouds,
and even the light of stars
of the night-sky are unable
to penetrate through the
hovering mass of water vapour.

Then there is a break
in the thick clouds
and the twinkle of the stars
is slowly revealed,
and seemingly from out of nowhere
there is a sudden loud BANG!
at the same time that there is
an explosion of red light
that streams and stretches
down from the sky above
to fill my eyes and my mind
with wonder and a welcome
reawakening of awe –
and within no time at all
the rain storm ceases,
and the full majesty
of the constellations are exposed
in all their stunning
and magnificent
breathtaking beauty.

My Poem “Superstitious”

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

Ghosts from the past are real…
real witches were once tried
and sentenced to death
all around the world…
myths and legends of individuals
capable of doing supernatural acts
have been recorded and they have
become a part of the history
of every civilisation on Earth.

Superstitions were once taken
even more seriously than they are now
and over time most societies
have assimilated certain long-held believes
into their daily lives and they still
carry some meaning to them –
like not having a house on a street
with the number thirteen,
counting the number of starlings
that people see and interpreting their
number to mean that there
are invisible forces at work,
or hesitating at the possibility
of having to cross the path of a black cat.

Certain words, certain names,
certain numbers seemingly
have a natural weight
and a significance to them
that has only grown over time,
as more people continue to believe
that certain symbols and signs
are precursors to a particular
event transpiring.

Some of the things that happen
to people are considered to be too “spooky”
to be judged as being mere coincidence:
moments like when you are thinking
about someone in particular
and then the next minute that same
person is calling you on the telephone,
or that feeling of being at the exact
right place at the exact right time
to reap the rewards of a fortune,
or when you wish for something
to happen and seemingly,
remarkably, the thing that want
comes to pass and puts a smile on your face.

“Old Wives Tales” always have
a tried and tested ring of truth to them…
carrying out a particular routine
before committing yourself
to do something
has been known to be effective
in giving someone a sense
of peace of mind…
some people have hand-on-heart
admitted to have had near-death
experiences that cannot be explained…
some people will do anything
and everything not to step on a crack
on the side-walk, or step underneath a ladder,
or look a crow in the eye
for fear that the consequences
could be deadly and hazardous to their health.

Some people could not care less about
superstitions and refer to them
as “nonsense” and “rubbish” –
however, there are still many people
who believe all that they have
ever been told since they were young
who always carry out
the necessary customs
needed to counteract the “bad luck”
that may have been triggered,
and their are people who swear
by the validity of every word
of every superstition
that they have ever heard.

My Poem “Badges”

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

There are some people
who like wearing badges,
there are some people
who like collecting badges,
and there are some people
who like some badges
over other badges
because what they symbolize
has a personal and profound
significance.

Some of the most iconic badges,
icons, logos, and catchphrases
have been passed down from
generation to generation,
from person to person,
and they have outlived others –
sometimes through reinterpretation –
because they say so much
at the same time as being as
succinctly simple as the symbol
of an arrow pointing skywards,
a cross, a star, a heart, a lightning bolt,
or the unification of multitude
of many colours.

There are some badges
that are instantly recognizable
and when they are seen to be worn
by someone in particular
there is an immediate moment of recognition and response…
there are badges that signify
a certain level of competence,
there are badges that advertise
that someone is the member
of a particular group of people,
there are badges that people
wear proudly because they
are a touchstone for experiences
that over time will continue to
mean more and more,
there are badges that people
over their lifetime know
without question
have something to do with
health, wealth, music,
or perhaps with upholding the law.

We are constantly surrounded
by timeless iconography
that has it’s own story to tell
about where it came from,
what it means, where it leads,
and if it is worn what the person
wearing it believes –
and since the time that the first
cave paintings were created
many different universal motifs
and insignias have found their way into
the collective human consciousness,
and over time those same
symbolic gestures have become
necessary ways and forms
of identification and communication
that connects individuals
with other people who also
like to wear the same shape,
colour, and clearly identifiable
and recognizable badges.