From the moment that I
open my eyes every morning,
my mind, my heart,
my extra-sensory perception
of the world is well and truly ON…
From the moment that I am awoken
and I am in full control
of my actions and my decisions,
the light of my soul rises
and again starts to shine like the sun…
From the moment that I step
off of the dream path that I have been walking
all throughout the night,
I slowly feel fully reintegrated
and reconnected to the physical world…
From the moment that I feel
the air of the morning upon my skin,
I feel something within me reach out
and grasp the energy of the new day
that instantly breathes new life into me –
and that reinvigoration of spirit
does not end until the stars above
shine again and the light of the day is done…
From the moment that I fall asleep
another part of me takes over
and goes to the places that can only be reached
when the light of the world of true,
unfiltered, and pure imagination
has been switched from OFF to ON.
poem
My Poem “The Maze”
Into the maze I walk…
Into my mind I fall…
Into the well of my dreams I dive…
Into the place of love
where I feel the most alive…
I see painted upon every wall
reflections of my life…
I hear the echoes of voices
that sound so loud
they could be the sonic boom
of a lightning strike…
Into the maze within me
is where I go to find inspiration…
Into the maze that I have built over time
is where I go to find the things
that were born from my imagination…
Into the maze is where I go
to marvel at the stars
of my internal constellations,
and when I reach the centre of my maze,
the heart of my labyrinth,
the core of my soul,
that is where I always find someone waiting for me:
the person who I would protect and do anything for
and the person who gives my life meaning…
I have searched so many times, in so many places
but the love of my life, Melissa,
has been for so long, and she always will be,
the one who I find and who finds me
within the maze of my mind.
My Poem “Bonfire Nights”
I remember the nights
of the fifth of November…
I remember the times
standing around, feeling the heat,
and basking in the glow of a bonfire…
I remember being a child
and being completely hypnotised
by the flickering of the flames
and by the sound of the cracking
of the furnace that burned before my eyes…
I remember watching the giant behemoth
that brought light to the darkness
and warmed the heart of my family and I…
I remember being a child and reciting to myself
the rhyme “remember, remember, the fifth of November”,
and having my imagination filled with images
of “gunpowder, treason, and plot”,
and watching Guy Fawkes being burned in effigy…
it has been too long since I stood
and looked into the flames of a fire,
but I still remember and I will never forget
all those bonfire nights that were filled
with sights, sounds, smells,
memories and dreams that will forever
fuel the inspiration and the fire
of my occasional child-like wants and desires.
My Poem “A place and a time”
A photographer capturing an artist,
capturing a place, capturing a moment of time…
A poet inspired by an artist,
inspired by the muse of life,
capturing the instant of a lifetime…
A gift shared, feelings painted,
high above and in view
of a carousel that you might expect to find
at a fun-fair,
an artist uses all the colours
of his heart and soul to imprint upon their canvas
a picture perfect miracle of creativity…
A place has an unique voice
that sometimes speaks to an artist…
An artist interprets and is inspired
by an experience and a moment
in ways that vary from person to person…
Sometimes a painting paints itself,
sometimes a poem writes itself,
sometimes a moment captures itself
and becomes a part of someone’s heart
and changes their life…
A moment can come and go in a flash –
however that is the most beautiful thing about life:
that it is finite…
and if you ask me and many others like me,
I and they would tell you that
every moment craves and calls out to be captured –
because every moment of time is a place,
and every place captured
is an infinite moment of time.
My Poem “Zeitgeist”
Times change… lives change…
Things change within the blink of an eye
when we’re not looking…
Seasons change… styles change…
opinions interchange…
the zeitgeist of the moment
changes it’s face with the snap of a finger…
The cream of the new crop rises to the top,
while the cherry of yesterday falls to bottom
and below the public consciousness…
The “In” can be “Out” from one week to the next…
One minute, everybody is talking
about this amazing new phenomenon –
and the next that same thing
can be considered out of date…
Time can be seen by some people
as both a gift and a predator…
You can do so much with time,
but sometimes time can feel like an ocean wave
that we are constantly trying to out-run…
Time goes by too fast, if you ask me…
Things change too much nowadays –
I’m not sure if anybody else agrees?
Maybe it’s my age? Maybe its because I’m sentimental?
Maybe my head is stuck in the past too much?
I’m not sure – but in this modern day and age
of the shortest attention-span known to man,
I think it is even more essential than ever
to be a detective of further knowledge
and see past the momentary flashes of the present
and embrace different periods and opinions
that were once considered the zeitgeist of their time.
My Poem “Transient Existence”
Human beings are a naturally
transient species…
We are all always on the move…
Human beings have come a long way
since our ancestors ventured out
of the ocean and on to land
and then up into the trees…
We are undeniably always
going to be a race of travellers and explorers,
and one day in the not too distant future
the first of us will leave Earth
and found the first colony on the moon…
Our entire genetic drive
is one that revolves around
and relies upon our instinct
to take a leap into the unknown
and discover a new world
of infinite possibilities…
Our inner-space, our mind, our spirit,
our consciousness, our imagination
thrives upon our internal aspirations
and their interactions with
our outside inspirations
as we go where we go
and as we do what we do
throughout our transient existence.
My Poem “The Pumpkin”
There is something wonderful
about watching children
and an entire family gather around
and participate in the carving
of a pumpkin for Halloween…
Everybody has an opinion,
everybody has an idea
about what image should be carved
into the skin of a ripe pumpkin
after its contents have been removed
and it now resembles an orange shell…
It seems as if it is only at this time of the year
when you actually get to see a pumpkin –
and they in themselves are what symbolize
Halloween as the season it has for longest time
been remembered for as being…
Halloween, like most public holidays,
is about family, about tradition, and
about enjoying the fruits of the world
that surrounds us…
Ghost stories, scary movies,
rides at fairgrounds that take us on
a rollercoaster of emotions is
what reminds people that they
are alive and kicking…
Halloween is the season that we are in,
and what better way to celebrate
this season of the human spirit
than to gather around and carve a pumpkin.
My Poem “My Basic Instincts”
My basic instinct is to love:
to love Melissa, to love my family,
to love life and all the gifts
and wonders that it provides…
My first instinct is to be optimistic:
to focus on the positive,
to look at things in a way that feels poetic,
profound, and as inspiring
as the sight of fire-light…
My basic instinct is to the think
about people and about things
and be inspired by them:
moments when a single thought
grows into the many words of an idea
are golden and they are as energizing
as a bolt of lightning
from the mysterious and inviting sky
that I see above me –
whether at night when it is dark,
or when the sun shines bright
and intensifies an already
beautiful blue sky…
In any sense of the word,
I am not a genius of intellect –
however, what and who I am
is a dreamer, a writer
and an artist who seeks out
and who follows the trails of breadcrumbs
and footprints that are there to be found,
until I find myself back where I began…
and it is then that I realize again
who I am and what are my basic instincts.
My Poem “The Golden Season”
Golden light beams down from above…
A feeling of comfort floods the air…
Brown leaves tumble and are carried by the gentle breeze…
Change is everywhere…
The ground is wet, making it slippery under foot…
Things look the same – but, as with every new day,
differences surround and reveal themselves to me…
It is a magical time of the year…
New stories are being written,
as Old tales are being retold…
The cycle of nature continues
and now it is the season of Autumn’s turn
to fall upon everyone like a flurry of red leaves…
This season of transition will herald the arrival
of one of our world’s greatest natural wonders…
This season will be when all the instruments
and when all the notes and the chords will be played
by the ever-present players of nature’s orchestra,
whose music will crescendo higher and higher
until the last leaves have danced and fallen
in time with the golden season’s symphony
until it’s last breath.
My Poem “The Ancient Ones”
We need to protect our environment…
too many of our greatest sources
of natural beauty are constantly
under threat from being taken away from all of us…
there are places in this world
that mean a great deal to so many of us
and they are important…
woodland being destroyed to build roads,
houses, and things that people
might think they want but they don’t need…
it is only when something is gone forever
that people start to look around at what remains
and their view of the world
starts to come into focus…
where would any of us be without trees,
birds, insects, green fields, mountains,
oceans, blue-sky above our head?
We need to preserve our beautiful planet…
we need to improve and not impede
our world’s life-support system
and give back to our planet
from which we have taken so much.
Our planet… Earth… our home
is all that we have,
and we need to take a step back
and see what some people are doing
to our precious life-giving
and life-sustaining environment,
and remember the teachings of the ancient ones –
our forefathers and foremothers –
and worship our world first and foremost,
because for the foreseeable future
all we see all around us is all that we have.
Mark Hastings 