When I look above
my attention is instantly captured…
when I listen to the hum of the night
the barrier between reality
and my dreams becomes fractured…
within the same moment
I see light and dark –
a bright sun and a full-moon…
among the stars
I see a pattern, a play,
a dance of light –
and then I see the sparkling eyes
and the perfect smile of my muse,
and my mind feels as if
it has left my body,
and I feel as if I am
floating through space and seeing
the multiple dimensions of the universe
one after the other…
I could be anywhere, at anytime,
at any age, at any moment of my life,
and all that I have to do
is look up to the sky and open my soul
and see, hear, and feel with all my senses
the siren of the stars.
poem
My Poem “_”
The wind blows… the trees sway…
the water of the lake ripples…
the raindrops fall upon my face…
the clouds are grey…
it is not even midday,
and though the sky feels like
it is falling down on me
I feel completely at peace and content,
as I sit on a bench
looking out at this oasis of tranquility,
completely exposed to the elements of nature,
as the ink of my pen becomes smudged
as I write in my notebook –
however I do not mind for a second
what is happening around me and above me
which I have no control over,
because all that concerns me in this moment
is where my inspiration
and the thoughts of my imagination will take me…
some moments leave quickly
like a leaf on the wind,
while others will live forever
and they will never leave me.
Happy Internatinal Literacy Day!
My Poem “American Dogs”
American dogs
of every size, breed,
fur length and fur colour…
American dogs of the countryside,
of the city, and of suburbia…
American dogs – wolves of the domestic era…
American dogs who grow up with,
who know, and who would
protect their owner
if they were ever in danger…
American dogs who have been
taught and treated in the right way
since they were a puppy
never forget who loves them,
nor where their home is…
American dogs are an important
part of the family
that they have been adopted into…
American dogs, like children,
love to be shown affection
by their adoptive parents…
American dogs adore their human parents
and they worship them
as if they were gods…
I have seen multiple times,
in multiple ways, face-to-face,
how truly loving, social,
thoughtful, and protective
some animals can be to their
family and their siblings –
and, in my opinion,
there is nothing like the love
that is shown and given freely
by an owner, which is then
reciprocated by
an American Dog.
My Poem “Rhapsody”
The voices of everybody over-lap…
one minute the music is jazz,
the next the beautiful melody of a piano…
the echoes of a chorus of sounds
are carried through the air
like the waves of an ocean…
there are moments of time that run slow
and there are those that race past
and then are gone again in a flash…
there is a dance of people,
of language, of emotions,
of noise, of stillness, of silence…
the beats of a heart,
the thoughts of a mind,
the air and the ambiance
that flows gently like a stream
can gradually become a waterfall –
the place, the people, the music,
the moment that is filled
with an infinite number of instants
that make them who and what they are
is what is at the heart
and what is the true essence
of what poetry, to me, is all about…
the best poetry comes from the heart of a poet
who feels a moment of time and an experience
so deeply and so profoundly
that it can only be expressed as a rhapsody.
My Poem “Flamingo”
Your passion is like a flame…
an indomitable spirit beats within your heart…
a fire can be found in the blood within your veins…
your strength is inspiring…
ever since I was a boy I have watched you grow
into becoming a striking model of grace and beauty…
to see you as you are now is amazing…
you are loving to those who mean the most to you…
you have seen so much, you have been to so many places –
and yet you have not changed since you were a girl…
I am so proud of who you are…
there is no doubt in my mind that no matter what happens
to you in the future, my sister, you will never stop continuing
to be a beacon of hope for those who you love
and those whom love you…
to me, it is no coincidence that purple is your favourite colour:
because purple is the colour of royalty,
creativity, dignity, devotion, pride, independence, and magic…
to me it is fate that you like flamingos,
because “Flamingo” means “Flame-coloured”,
and Flamingos symbolize love and happiness
and someone who is accepting,
someone who opens their heart for others,
someone who can’t stop giving, and that is you to a tea –
because you embody all that a Flamingo symbolizes.
Happy Birthday to my wonderful sister!
Happy Birthday, Clare!
My Poem “Under Arbor”
Sitting under a tree…
Sitting under a shadow
as the sun shines
and there is blue sky above me…
I take a moment alone, on my own,
to savour the moments
of precious peace…
My time here is short –
however, isn’t everybody’s these days?
My thoughts briefly drift away
as I daydream that I am far away…
I think of memories
that mean the most to me…
I remember and I see the faces
of those who give my life meaning
and who make my heart skip a beat…
Life is the most precious thing…
Love is the most important blessing…
I never get the opportunity
or the time these days to just sit
and take it easy,
and that is why I am
making the most of this moment
to breath in the fresh air
and sit in the shadow of a tree.
My Poem “Corona”
Did you see the ring of fire?
Did you see the aura of the sun?
Did you see the halo of our star?
Did you see the moon turn day into night?
Where you there when the sky darkened
and people were overwhelmed with emotion?
Where were you when you saw your first eclipse?
Were you frightened, or were you hypnotised,
when you saw the moon obscure the sun’s light?
I remember, and I will never forget,
how I felt when I first saw the moon
come between the Earth and the sun:
I felt lost for words,
because I knew that what I was seeing
was synchronicity in all its perfection,
and also poetry in motion
that would stay with me forever…
I can still remember where I was
when I saw light explode,
as the sun was revealed again
from behind the moon –
and even now, within my mind,
I can still see the sun’s crown
that is its beautiful
and mesmerising corona.
My Poem “Fortune”
“It is within a bookstore where I willingly get lost…
it is within books where I discover a part of myself…
it is when I am with my muse in a bookstore
that my heart comes alive the most…
it is when I breathe in the aroma of new books,
when I become entranced by all the different book-covers all around me,
when I cannot take my attention away from the one I love,
that I feel surrounded by a fortune of limitless wealth.”
-Mark Hastings, “Fortune”
My Poem “Words Enough and Time”
If only there were
enough words in the world
and limitless time in our lives
for each and every one of us
to find peace of mind
to fill our soul
with only the things of life
and the universe
that are among the most
wondrous and beautiful…
during an eclipse of daylight,
under the silent shadow
of a celestial event,
within the brief window
of day becoming night,
every one of us
can feel as if our lives
have become frozen
in an instant of twilight…
if only there were a way
for thoughts to break-free,
if only there were a way
for us to see the unseen,
if only there were a way
to describe the true meaning
and the transcendental
beauty of a sunrise…
if only there were
words enough and time.
My Poem “The Dark Tower”
I once spent an entire summer
with Roland Deschain,
“The Gunslinger”,
as we followed
the “Man in Black”
as he fled across the desert
of a world that had “moved on”,
in the pages of the books
of Stephen King’s epic
multi-novel adventure
“The Dark Tower” –
and it was as we journeyed
and followed the path
of the beams that led
to the tower that stands
and binds the worlds
of Stephen King’s stories together
that I discovered along the way
that the best stories
are like the most memorable dreams,
and that to find something
you may have been looking for
for as long as you can remember
sometimes the doorways
that we must walk through
we can only find
when we explore the world’s
that reveal themselves
under the covers –
and now I am preparing to enter
a movie-theatre so that I may return
to the world of Stephen King
and journey again across a desert
and through magical doors
with “The Gunslinger”
and return again to “The Dark Tower”.
Mark Hastings 