poem

My Poem “Skyline”

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

Every city is constantly
remaking itself and is a mixture
of the old and the new,
and Birmingham is no different.
There is always so much to see
and so much to experience,
and no matter what day of the week it is
I always look upon its many different
buildings and its diverse population
and I think positively
and optimistically about
what it has always been, what it is,
what it will one day be,
and how it and the people
who make it what it is
will be seen when looked upon
from the ground or from high above
and among the many buildings
that make up is iconic skyline.

My Poem “Locutus”

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

Every collective and assembly
of individuals who seek to speak
with one voice when dealing with others
often elects one member of their society
to be the spokesperson for them
in matters of peace, diplomacy,
and the continued prosperity
of their shared consciousness,
while at the same time attempting
to announce, to advertise,
and to further their own interests
and to bolster the idea of the betterment
of those who are connected and interlinked
with every other person who makes up
the hive of knowledge, energy,
and the gift of adaptability
that their culture is built upon.

Figureheads, presidents, prime ministers,
kings, queens, ambassadors have been
sent on missions of state for centuries
in order to explore the prospect
and the possibility of assimilating
a new investment of riches in the form of
people, experience, and examples
of distinctive innovations
that surpass that which is already known,
and it is the act of seeking out
and trying to understand
what is presently a mystery
that has driven the course of the history
of all the empires and also the democracies
that have risen, those that have flourished,
and those that have survived
where others have fallen
because the victorious
chose to change some things
while continuing to stay true to their
underlying pursuit of a vision
and of a state of perfection for their nation.

Sometimes an individual’s voice
and their face can get lost in a crowd
of people who all have their own
personal perspective on what
the reason is for why things
should be the way that they are –
and when that happens
some people naturally seek out
a representative
to speak on their behalf,
and just as long as the person
who is naturally chosen
because they somehow embody
what needs to be conveyed
stays true to the message
and the ethics of who they are
supposed to be representing,
then unless their advancements
lead to conflict there should be no reason
why no one who is anyone
would not listen to a “Locutus” –
in other words, someone who is literally:
“the one who speaks”.

Resistance is not futile

My Poem “02022020”

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

Today is the second of February, 2020 –
meaning that if you were to write it down
then today’s date would be read as “02022020”,
which of course is a palidrome:
meaning that no matter in which order
that you read it it can be read in exactly the same way,
forwards or backwards,
which I consider as being symbolic
of the beautiful symmetry of life, of people,
of the universe that everybody finds themselves
a vital member of when they look up,
when they look down,
when they look in every direction possible,
in order to find their place in this
amazing hive of activity that is constantly
creating new gifts of love, energy, and inspiration
that we can only hope will fuel
that which is responsible for helping
each and everyone of us –
especially those of us here on Earth –
find our way and our purpose in life.

In Punxsutawney, PA, this morning
the Groundhog spoke
and Punxsutawney Phil himself
informed all in attendance that
he did not see his shadow –
which of course means that
there will be an early Spring,
which means that everything
and everyone can look forward
to the early start of a brand new season
of light and beauty
and all the blessings
that it will bring.


Happy Groundhog Day! 😊

My Poem “NEU”

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

When you make a choice
to wade out into an ocean of uncertainty
and away from the coast
of what is tried, tested, and known,
you have to stay calm,
you have to stay positive,
you have to stay strong,
and you have to keep going
if you want to realize the dream
of remaking, redefining,
and perhaps rediscovering
who you are in your heart of hearts
and what you want to see as
the ever changing face
and identity of your home.

Learning to swim can be scary at first –
being out in a vast and expansive environment
that is as uncontrollable,
as unrecognisable, as breathtaking,
and as alien as water can sometimes seem
can be daunting, and the further out that you go
and the deeper that delve
the more that you can sometimes
feel the need and the urge to turn back,
to return to the surface,
and to breathe in the air of the ordinary –
but if everybody in history had decided
to turn back when the waves of a sea got rough,
or when the land beneath their feet
started to seem impassable,
then no one would be around
to tell the tales of how humanity came to be.

A new day always harbours a new dawn..
a new morning always gives everybody
new things to think about,
to discover, and to explore…
an opportunity to do something
revolutionary is one that many people
around the world have taken advantage of
and the results of which undeniably
show more often than not
a beneficial change for those seeking
to expand their horizons –
which is why I always believe that
every new day, every new morning,
and every new opportunity
has to be grasped and considered
a gift to make a change that
may improve things, people,
attitudes, and fuel the dreams
of those people who are capable
of seeing beyond the horizon
and who can imagine what can become
a reality if you do not stop believing in
the power of transformation
and staying hopeful to what is possible
when people decide to make a move
to go their own way and carve out
their own individual groove.

My Poem “Story of a writer’s life”

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

Whenever you ask a writer
what the hardest thing to do
when writing anything is
they will most likely tell you
that the same thing that is
the hardest thing to do is also
one of the most essential,
one of the most fundamental,
one of the most amazing
and one of the most fulfilling
things that a writer can do:
to finish things, to end things,
to conclude things, to write a definitive
and effective last verse that defines,
underlines, and gives a new insight into
what the meaning of a work
of literature might be,
why its underlying message
might be enlightening,
and also the reason why an author
chose to explore a particular story
or subject matter in the first place.

It is always good to restart a story
the minute after you have just read
a particular book. Why?
Because no matter how much you think
you know about the story
that you have just read
there is always more to be found
within the lines of text,
especially with a god-like insight into
what is going to happen before
the characters do,
because by restarting the story again
you are turning back the clock
and resetting an entire world
of characters whom you know more about
than they know about themselves –
which gives everything
a fresh new perspective.

Stories and storytellers
are to what, and they are to whom,
everybody turns to when they want to be
entertained, enchanted, educated,
and illuminated about something
or someone that has a tale to be told
about the what, the when, the why,
and how so much of life
revolves around and is built upon
stories told by storytellers
who might have spent countless hours
retelling, building, understanding,
and trying to capture
a sometimes indefinable magic
that they once found themselves
inspired by and compelled to grasp
the ball of entangled threads
that combine to create every single
word, of every single line,
of every story, of every writer,
of every creator since
the beginning to time.

My Poem “Peace of Mind”

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

When we go so far outwardly
I find that it is sometimes necessary
to turn inwardly, to regress –
if only momentarily –
essentially to regain some perspective,
to connect all the dots that lead
from where we were and who we were
to where we find ourselves
at a given moment in time,
in order to appreciate everything
that we have and to realize why
what we left in the past
we needed to leave behind
for the prosperity of our future
as well as our present peace of mind.

My Poem “The Eyes of a Poet”

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

As the rain lashed down
on a cloudy day
I looked out the window
of the Diplomat café,
as a bright blue tram car
glided passed upon the rails
of the tram railway –
and as I did I immediately
found myself experiencing
a wave of inspiration grow within me,
which I knew almost instantly
that I wanted to savour,
to save, and to capture
so that it may endure
in some profound way.

Writers and artists are always looking
for a place where they can create
unimpeded by the distractions
of the outside world –
especially when they are first
starting out upon their artistic journey;
personally, I try not to box myself
into the corner of a particular room
and declare that there is only
one place and one way,
where, when, and how,
I can express what I want to say.

Writers and artists are constantly
finding themselves creating art
at every time of the day
and wherever they find themselves
caught in the shower of
shooting stars of inspiration,
because what artists become inspired by
is ultimately in the hands of fate,
and over the years I have
randomly found myself –
while staring at a sunset,
while sitting in a movie theatre,
while staring at a masterpiece of art
by Vincent van Gogh or Leonardo da Vinci –
absolutely and unfathomably
in a state of complete mesmerism
in which I felt like I could access
deeper layers of connection, life,
and an understanding about the art
that I saw and the artist
responsible for creating
what ultimately turned out to be
that something that would inspire me.

Artists and writers
are always chasing that once
in a lifetime spark
of artistic creativity
that will excite and unify
every one of their senses
and their instincts
and that will perfectly combine
to make something special
that people will never forget –
and being an artist is sometimes
like walking a line,
like crossing borders,
and like discovering
and delivering a message…
being an artist and a writer
is sometimes like being some kind
of an envoy, a peacemaker, a diplomat,
and someone who can occasionally see –
when they can look at all
the multiple possibilities
of something simultaneously –
that things become increasingly
more clearer when you
take a step back from something,
while still looking at it
and while still internalizing it,
however while secretly interpreting it
by using the eyes of a poet.

My Poem “Substantial sustenance”

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

It’s always great to experience new things…
it’s always great to see things
you have never seen before…
it’s always refreshing to go somewhere
you have always wanted to go
but have never been before…
it’s always enlightening to be exposed
to the sights, the sounds, the people,
and the unique identity of a community
all living and breathing
every aspect of their particular
village, town, region, or city.

It has always been a passion of mine
to seek out, to explore, to experience,
and to learn more about the many
different and diverse voices, accents,
faces, beliefs, and opinions
that make humanity the distinct species
of dreamers, storytellers,
and builders that we are…
when people go somewhere that
is renowned for representing
and practicing certain customs
and for communicating
in certain ways of speech
that cannot be witnessed nor heard
anywhere else in the world,
you can find yourself initially
overwhelmed and uninformed –
however, like with most things,
the more that you are exposed to
certain things, and to certain practices,
the more likely it is that you will
naturally accept what you are surrounded by
and over time you will naturally
assimilate certain things into
your unconscious daily routines.

Being a wanderer can be exciting…
being someone who is constantly
looking for inspiration and stimulation
can be encompassing and thrilling…
being someone who wonders
why things are the way that they are
can be revealing…
being someone who ventures
beyond their understanding of what
life is all about is to be someone
who accepts the mission of exploration
and discovery that might take them
to places that are both illuminating
in terms of knowledge and fulfilling
in terms of inspiration
that cannot be underestimated
and are an essential and a substantial
source of sustenance
for the mind, for the body,
and for the soul of who you are.

My Poem “Want to take a ride?”

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

Some people love riding…
some people live to jump
on the saddle of a horse,
or on the saddle a bicycle,
on the seat of a scooter,
or on to the seat of a motorcycle –
especially on the weekend
when people feel like
time is on their side
and they can glide through
the quiet lanes of the countryside,
or down the open highways with
the wind blowing against their face,
while enjoying every moment
and every ounce of the feeling
of being unburduned by anything,
and some people also enjoy
the opportunity of the pure release
of their inner nature
that they get to make.

Some people have a great affection
for past times that make them feel rebellious –
as if they are doing something
that they shouldn’t be doing:
like disregarding a sign that says
“DO NOT ENTER” or “SLIPPERY WHEN WET”,
and they still decide to proceed
regardless to what awaits them within
the forbidden place before them…
some people are simply unable to fight
the feeling that rises within them
that makes them want to
face their fears, take a leap,
and expand the boundaries
of their imagination.

Some people sometimes do things
that they know other people
have died while doing…
some people sometimes do things
that are dangerous
because the experience of doing
certain activities is profoundly thrilling
and sometimes life-fulfilling…
some people who live near a beach
love to start their day by taking
their surfboard and riding the crests
of the early morning waves…
some people love being active,
being brave, and seeking out
their calling in life in many different ways.

Some people live to explore…
some people love to dive…
some people like the ritual
of waking up at dawn
and taking their dog for a long walk…
some people want nothing more
than to do what they want,
when they want, how they want –
especially those who wake up
every day when they do not have
anything in particular to do
and who can take the steps
to fully answer the question of:
“Where do you want to go?”…
some people experience
the feeling of being “more alive”
when they instively act upon
the question posed by
their adventurous side,
which is usually a variation
along the lines of:
“Want to take a ride?”

“Life should not be a journey to the grave
with the intention of arriving safely
in a pretty and well preserved body,
but rather to skid in broadside
in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up,
totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming
“Wow! What a Ride!”
– Hunter S. Thompson

Mark The Poet: “My Nature”

Mark Hastings Blog, life, me, Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,