poem

My Poem “The Universe”

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

All my life I have been obsessed with time…
all my life I have wished that each and every one of us
could have all the time in the world to do
what we want to do, to go where we want to go,
to be with whom we want to be with…
what I have learned throughout my life
is that time and space is infinite,
however our lives are brief
and the moments that we have
to enjoy everything around us come and go far too soon…
all my life I have been inspired by time,
by space, by nature, by people,
by the universe of the seen and the invisible, by love,
and by the theory of everything that everybody has
to explain who we are, what we are,
when we are, where we are, and why we are…
all my life I have had heroes…
all my life I have had happy memories to look back upon
and a bright horizon to look towards…
all my life I have had my mind and my imagination
opened up to the infinite possibilities of existence –
and one of my heroes and inspirations,
since I was given his book ‘A Brief History of Time’
for Christmas back in 1998, has been the astounding genius
Professor Stephen Hawking, who I am afraid to say
has now left this world and who now possesses
the grand unified theory of everything
that he sought all his life…
all my life I have shared my life with hope,
and I have always believed that if we all were
to work together as one world, as one universe,
as one unified creation, then each and every one of us
could reach, dream, and travel among the stars
in an infinite moment of time –
and I believe that if we were to follow
Stephen Hawking’s example then none of us
could ever be bound, as if in a nutshell,
because then we would realize
that we are all capable of doing things
beyond the ever expanding periphery of time,
space, love, and life that is the universe.

Rest In Peace, Stephen Hawking

My Poem “Mum Love”

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

I love my Mum!
I love my Mum in so many ways…
I have loved my Mum since the instant
that I opened my eyes and I stared longingly
at her beautiful face…
I love my Mum and to me there is no one else like her…
I love my Mum and to me she
is the epitome of the perfect mother…
I love my Mum and she has loved me
since the day I was born…
I love my Mum and every day she gives
the gift of her loving soul to her family
while not expecting anything in return…
I love my Mum and I always will…
I love my Mum to me she will always be beautiful…
I love my Mum like a flower loves the sun…
I love my Mum, and just as my Mum will always love me
I will always love her
and I will always be her loving son.

My Poem “Never Say Die”

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

Even when it is dark
and all that you see outside your window
is white, cold, and bleak,
never once close your eyes and ever admit defeat…
even when there appears to be nowhere
and no way to take one step forward or one step back
take it slow wherever you have to go,
because as long as you keep moving
the steps that you take and every move that you make
will not be your last…
to keep moving is to keep fighting…
to think of your heart within your chest as a fire
is one of the ways that we all need to stay alive…
every day is a test – however, some days
test us more than others…
every day those who suffer through pain
have to constantly motivate themselves
to step out from under their comfortable bedcovers…
it can be hard to get through things
when we feel that the odds are against us
and the situation that we face is grim –
but when we are faced with such a circumstance
we all need to look within and call upon our inner strength
to get us through the storm that we are confronted by…
whenever the weather is bad and our paths seem impassable,
we all need to be a rebel, we all need to keep calm,
we all need to keep going, and we all need to never say die.

My Poem “The Eighties”

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

I grew up in the 1980s…
I grew up in the decade when
the world was blessed with the best
and with the most memorable days of their lives…
when I think of the 1980s and the time of my childhood,
I look back with awe and with a nostalgic longing
to return to those days –
even if only for a short time…
I can still remember living, breathing, growing,
and enjoying every one of the gifts of humanity
that were ever-present and essential…
I, like many, still vividly remember what I saw,
what I heard, and what I felt when I was a child –
what I was fortunate to have seen, heard, and felt
for the first time, at the moment that
their star of influence began to rise
and instantly started to impact
and change the world forevermore…
television, movies, music, games, books –
the characters, the vehicles, the fashions,
the songs and the soundtracks
that continue to stand the test of time –
that to this day are still re-watched,
replayed, rediscovered, and renewed
for a brand new generation…
to me, there is nothing like nostalgia…
to me, there is nothing like revisting
the precious memories of your youth…
there is something about certain times
in our collective history that resonates
with some people on an emotional
and on an almost cellular level…
there is something special about remembering
the things we used to watch,
the things we used to listen to,
and in the ways that we used to enjoy them…
there is something wonderful, heart-racing,
exhilarating, and magical about using
our imagination as a vehicle to go back in time,
like the Delorean time-machine
from the Back to the Future movies,
and in a small way reliving decades-old memories –
and even though I am now in my thirties
and my childhood now feels like a life-time ago,
I still love thinking back, I still loving watching back,
and I still love using the songs that I remember from my youth
to take me back and give me a rush of euphoric recollection,
like the feeling of returning home:
the same overwhelming sense of belonging and joy
that I ways feel when I think back to the 1980s.

My Poem “Connecting…”

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

So much of life is about finding connections…
so much of life involves beginning from somewhere new…
so much of life is about making choices and decisions…
so much of life involves everybody having to dig deeper
and further discover more about something that they never knew…
so much awaits those who do not listen too intently
to the voices who vehemently proclaim
that something cannot be done…
so much can be attained by those who choose
to look beyond the horizon for the answers that they seek…
so much music becomes un-muted to our ears
when we listen to the hopes and the dreams
of those who love what they do
because they do what they love…
so much can be expressed when we no longer surround
ourselves with the walls and the barriers
that can sometimes make us feel claustrophobic
and like a Goldfish in a fish-bowl…
so much needs to be seen… so much needs to be said…
so much happens instantaneously and beyond our control…
so much comes easy to us when we put our faith and our trust
into that which calls out from within us to be allowed to shine…
so many people do not have the confidence in their own voice
and they shy away from any and all opportunities
when and where they can open up their soul
like a flower that becomes their most alive when they are blooming…
everyone in this world is a work of art in the making –
and like the sometimes hidden meaning of a piece of art,
the only way to see what is ever-present
is to reach out with all of your senses
and embrace every moment with which you are connecting…

My Poem “A World of Time”

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

A world of time… a world of faces…
a world of life… a world of places…
a world of mountains… a world of waterfalls…
a world of fountains… a world of the very small…
a world of the very tall…
a world of intelligence… a world of beauty…
a world of providence… a world of poetry…
a world of imagination… a world of dreamers…
a world of interconnection… a world of believers…
a world of vastness… a world of colour…
a world of wanderlust… a world of desire…
a world of love… a world of light…
a world of worshipers of the sky and the heavens above…
a world of day and a world of night…
a world of history… a world of hellos and goodbyes…
a world of symmetry… a world of synchronicity
all living the dream of their life
and all doing what makes sense to them
in a world of time.

My Poem “Wild at Heart”

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

Everyone is wild at heart…
everyone shows just how wild they are
every time their eyes grow wide, they cry,
and they open their mouth in a scream or in a laugh…
everyone is young at heart…
everyone shows just how youthful, rebellious,
and energetic they can still be –
even if most of the time they feel like
they have to “act their age” and stay in after dark…
everybody always has memories of times in their life
when they were able to act without any fear of boundaries
and allow their body and their mind to run free –
because nobody ever forgets that feeling of liberation,
that unbounded power that is at the centre
of the inner light of glee that rises
like the golden light of the sun
that glistens over the waves of a morning sea…
even within the most serene and tranquil of landscapes
there lies a wild spirit whose heart is always racing…
even within the quietest and the most remote places
of solitude there can be heard a call
that some find invigorating…
ever since I was a child, my mind, my eyes,
my emotions, my drive, the voice within me
that I have drawn my inspiration and my strength from,
has been that of the wolf within me –
however, it wasn’t until I found the soulmate of my dreams
that I realized that I have always been a part of a union
of two halves – one male, one female –
and two souls bound together
because they are one and the same: wild at heart.

My Poem “Loving You”

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

I can’t stop thinking about
the one who saved me…
I can’t stop seeing in my mind
the one who completes me…
I can’t stop remembering
the one million and more memories
that I and the love of my life have shared…
I can’t stop wishing once every second
that I were back there where my angel of inspiration
every day shines and hypnotizes me
with the gorgeous glare of her beautiful stare…
I can’t stop thinking about where we have been
and what we have both seen…
I can’t stop reliving those moments
and the best times of my life,
because what we have experienced together felt so incredible,
amazing and heavenly to me they could easily have been a dream –
but they were not merely a dream… they were real…
everything that I still remember so vividly happened
and the stories that we both can retell word for word
in perfect symmetry and synchronicity are all true…
I can’t stop believing that no matter the time
and the distance between us that we are always going to be
two halves of the same heart and soul,
and when I look into the eyes of my muse
that mesmerize me every time I see them
because they are so vibrant and strikingly blue,
even if I cannot always be heard saying a single word
I am always saying to you, Melissa,
my fiance, that I love you!
I can’t stop the fountain of love that I feel for you
from flooding the world and showing anybody and everybody
how, what, and why I love you the way that I do…
I can’t stop and I will never stop loving you and only you.

My Poem “Transmute”

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

The essence of all art is to transmute…
the art of being an artist
is having the gift to be inspired by something,
to be transformed by something,
and to create something that elevates something
to a new level of understanding…
the spirit of everything changes as it grows
and as it interacts with all that nature creates
when it endeavors to carve out a brand new groove…
the one thing that is irrefutable about life
is that it is changeable, sometimes unpredictable,
and everybody’s short time to shine
is something that is mutual…
as everything and everybody grows
their voice changes, the biology changes,
their psychology changes, the spirituality changes –
because life, in a nutshell, is all about change
in so many ways – even the sky above changes twice a day
from black to blue, and from blue to black…
the universe is not the same as it was when it began,
and neither is anybody the same person
their whole life through –
and that is a good thing, because what would a universe,
a world, a seed, an insect, a flower, an animal,
a person be if they were unable to transmute?

My Poem “A Space-car named Desire”

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

A car has been launched into space…
A cherry red Tesla Roadster is now the first man-made vehicle
participating in a new space-race…
A sports-car that might ordinarily be found
cruising down the highways
and the roads of an Earthbound human city
is now orbiting Earth and broadcasting
The Best of David Bowie
while on its way and at the beginning
of a billion year-old life and journey –
and I don’t know about you,
but the thought of such a thing
happening in my lifetime is truly
amazing and awe-inspiring…
The thought and the knowledge that we are now
living in a time and in a world when and where
anything is possible and anything that can be imagined
is achievable, to me is wondrous –
and it is ingenious innovators and visionaries
like Elon Musk who we have to thank
for keeping alive and stoking the fire of
the human condition and refueling the human drive
to be spellbound, amazed, and inspired –
and what better way to show an example
of our collective human ingenuity
and our indomitable human spirit
than to launch a car into space atop of a rocket,
propelled, among other things,
by dreams, imagination, and a boundless desire.