poem

My Poem ‘Petrichor’

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

The air is cool;
the thunder and the lightning of last night
have taken away and abated
the feeling of fire that had been burning my skin;
the stormy weather of last night
apparently put on quite a show –
however, right at this moment,
the bright morning light
is streaming through the window;
and like every day that I venture out
into the world, I am hearing things
that I have never heard before,
and I am seeing things and people
that I have never before seen.

I slept like a still sea last night;
I never once woke up
nor was I awoken by any sound of rumbling
or by any flash of light;
when I opened my eyes from my dream,
I looked and I saw the sight
of a beautiful vision before me:
an intense light, brighter than lightning,
enlightened everything and made my world shine,
and the sound that I heard
that sounded like thunder
was my heart beating in my chest;
and as the new day began,
I knew that I could no longer linger or rest –
because what I felt next, to me,
has always been the best.

Making connections;
connecting the dots;
painting a picture of impressions;
seeing the gold within the rock;
understanding the true nature of life and the world;
finding and breathing in the clear and fresh morning air,
and inhaling that extraordinary and unmistakable smell;
feeling happy and sure;
stretching and reaching out
like a newborn chick that has only just
broken free of its shell.

People feel intensely and deeply;
everybody has instincts;
people want to feel secure, as well as free;
everybody can imagine anything
and everything in a single blink;
it has always amazed me
how much our surroundings talk to us
and what they say about us;
it has always fascinated and inspired me
how much life there is above ground,
as well on the ocean floor;
it has always excited me
every time that I have considered and thought
that I and everybody were once cosmic dust,
and that what makes me and us,
who I am and who we are,
also makes the stars what they are –
and, to me, that is enough to make
anyone’s blood rush;
it has always brought alive in me the light in things,
every time that I have taken in
the wonderful planet that I live on,
after a hot day and a stormy night,
and inhaled the air
and became instantly intoxicated
by the smell of petrichor.

My Poem ‘True Calling’

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

There is a reason
why a writer is a writer;
there is a reason
why an artist is an artist;
there is a reason
why a singer is a singer;
there is a reason
why someone can pick up an instrument
that calls to them,
and why when they play
they can do so epically and with such ease.

Acting without thinking,
moving with fluidity,
expressing without talking,
feeling the intensity
and the deep meaning
and wonder of your natural ability,
and not having to try;
being yourself; living the good life;
feeling rejuvenated to overflowing
and perfect health.

Words, numbers, sight, sound,
taste, touch, day, night,
sense, style, view, voice,
darkness, light;
symbols, windows, music, life,
colour, vibrations,
leap, dive, rise, and shine.

There are some things you “just know”;
there are some songs you replay
that will never get old;
there are some things that “just flow”;
there are some things you can see
and understand without having to be told.

Music is life filtered,
interpreted and expressed, through the senses,
inspired by the seasons and the surroundings
that the artist finds themselves,
that comes from the source and the heart
that lives to breath and beat
constantly and indomitably;
muse is inspiration made tangible –
which you can touch with your mind,
with your body, with your spirit and soul,
that keeps your artistic fire alight,
and keeps alive your unquenchable desire
to express the inexpressible.

What is meant for you
will always catch you
if you ever find yourself falling;
believe in destiny;
never forget that which to you is truly beautiful;
listen to what is all around you;
follow and answer that which to you
is your true calling.

My Poem ‘America’

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

America the great;
America the amazing;
America the epic;
America, the country,
the dream, the promise,
the pride, the pursuit,
the heart, the place,
the people who will forever
be in my heart and a part of my soul,
that is always calling to me
like a beautiful hopeful light
that never stops dazzling and inspiring me.

The America I know,
the America that I have grown up with,
the America that is like no other country
in the entire world,
that is more like a collective
of fifty different countries in-one,
who are all bound to each other,
and who would not be the same
without each other,
are like the most vast cast imaginable
of the most epic Broadway show;
the America that I have watched,
listened to, and loved since I was a kid,
is a place that has everything
and anything that anyone could ever want,
and the places within America that I have visited
have to be seen to be believed.

Every state has its own dialect,
its own character, its own identity,
its own distinguishing beauty,
customs, food, and music;
every state is like a puzzle piece
that perfectly fits together with the others,
as if since the first settlers arrived
it was always meant to be;
every state will always share more with themselves
than with anywhere else,
and they will always be inextricably linked;
every state lives and breathes
the defining ideal and the founding dream
of the country that they are a part of,
and that is the freedom to be free.

The United States of America
is a country of revolution;
the United States of America
is a country with the strongest
and the most unbreakable constitution;
the United States of America
is, and will always be,
a place where every new day
can be a brand new frontier;
there are hundreds of countries
all over the world –
however, there is nowhere else
that will ever come close to being
the powerhouse of hope, innovation,
leadership, strength, drive,
determination, creativity,
and a beacon for, and to, the entire world,
like the country that is the most phenomenal
of them all, who will forever be
the United States of America.

America poem 2015

My Poem ‘Behind the baseline’

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

Behind the baseline,
standing diagonally,
opposite each other,
almost at the edge of the court,
two racket rocket tennis players
face-off against each other –
one waiting to serve hard and fast,
the other waiting with anticipation
with their body flooded with adrenaline,
as they try to psyche themselves up
and read the body-language of the other player,
hoping to get a touch and a contact
with the fast moving almost-invisible tennis ball
and return it over to the other side of the net
before it can be counted as an “ace”
as it flies past.

The striped green grass of the court glows;
the white lines of the boundaries are pure white;
the audience in attendance are silent and are hypnotized;
the first and the only sound that can be heard
is the moment when the player who is serving
tosses the tennis ball that they are holding in the air
and they hit it hard, far, through, high to low.

Within a split-second,
after that first hit,
the two athletes spring into action
and run to meet their competitors return;
the two players’ hearts race,
their finally-tuned instincts are heightened,
their skin burns under the hot sun,
they think, they swing their rackets,
they run and they run and they run…
all they are thinking about
is reaching the glowing ball of energy
and using the strings of the racket-head
to keep the ball of their game “in” and not “out!”

Tennis is a sport of strategy, skill,
athleticism, rivalry, thought, and preparation;
tennis players are held in high-regard,
and they are renowned and they are championed
as being as close to the perfect sportsperson
as anyone could be;
tennis has the magic about it
to capture you and strike you
with complete fascination
and inflame your imagination,
and it can even galvanize the people of an entire nation;
tennis players walk in the same circles
and they brush shoulders with rock-stars,
and they are considered heroes in their own right
because of their unbelievable natural ability.

As the rally of a set goes on,
as the crowd watching in the stands
become more and more captivated,
as the flight of the tennis ball
and what side of the court it is on
continues to be the sole focus
of everyone’s attention,
even those who are just watching
and who are not playing
are living for every bounce, hit, return, and point.

Bounce after bounce,
serve after serve,
as the scores are announced from the umpire,
everybody tries to keep cool,
keep hydrated, keep their nerve.
When the match is done and won,
and the victorious player
raises their racket high into the air,
the relief that is felt all around
by everybody who is there is palpable
and it is enough to bring both players to tears;
and when the champion of the game
takes their victory lap
and enjoys and takes in the crowds adulation
and rapturous cheers,
it is then that people remember where they are
and the minutes and the hours of the time;
and as everyone in the stands and on the court
collects their things and leaves
to return to the outside world,
everybody is still in awe,
and they can still remember every second
and every shot that they saw,
as they watched a remarkable game of tennis take place
from just behind the baseline.

My Poem ‘The Reveler’

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

Instantly feeling the life of a party
get inside you, as the music
moves your body to the beat;
living and breathing the life
and the times of a festival,
unable to stop yourself
from moving your feet;
being at a show
and hearing band after band play epically;
losing yourself, finding yourself;
being yourself, embracing your inner-self;
feeling happy, feeling free;
the collective spirit,
emotion, ambiance, and unbridled
and unbounded liberation
is exciting beyond words;
the wondrous magic
is like breathing the air of a brand new world;
the uplifting and enlivening anti-gravity
has you feeling like you are flying like a bird;
the amazing energy penetrates
deep inside you like a sword;
the echoes of waves of sound
emanate and overcome you;
even if the rain was falling
and the sky were a blanket of clouds,
the sun would be shining
and the colour above would be bright blue.

Music is its own language;
music is its own eternal and everlasting age;
music is a force of the universe;
music is what came first;
music is living, breathing, evolving, changing,
and can mean different things
depending on the time that you are listening;
music is meant to be enjoyed and reveled in.

The stage is like a heaven of stars;
the stars of the stage are like angels and messengers;
the songs played are like magic spells of amazing power;
that which raises the heart-rate
and brings stars to everyone’s eyes
is like being in the passenger seat of a speeding car.

If you are wild at heart
and the call of the unseen and the unknown
grips you hard every time you hear it,
then you are a born traveler;
if you can see things
and feel the presence of something divine,
then you are a true believer;
if you feel that every day is a prize
and a gift, then you are always a winner;
if you know what it means to be a part
of something bigger and greater,
that connects you to all levels of nature,
then you are closer than ever to heaven of Earth,
because you are a timeless reveler.

My Poem ‘From the top’

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

My time, my days,
often see me surrounded by people
on an infinite, overwhelming,
incalculable, unfathomable scale;
there are days when the thought
of how many billions of people
there are in the world
literally boggles my mind;
the obsessive observer in me
wants to see everything,
and wants to meet everyone,
and sit down with them,
so that they can tell me their tale;
the dominant writer in me
wants to discover and convey
the meaning of the entire universe
and the meaning of life
and wrap it all up in a story,
or a poem, and leave a message
to live and to love life by
for all of mankind.

I cannot help but look out and see more;
I cannot help but listen and hear
a symphonic opus;
I cannot help by feel drawn
in multiple directions,
while still keeping my feet
firmly on the ground –
like a rocket of potential
waiting to launch;
I cannot tell you how much love means to me,
and to me the meaning and the feeling of love
is the most important thing in and of my heart
that I wholly trust.

Most things occur and are where they are
according to a plan;
everyone is defined by their own unique chemistry
that, to some degree, dictate the things in life
they can’t have and the things that,
if they want to, they can have;
knowing what to do and when
is one of the key indefinable instincts
in attaining your dreams;
some things, no matter how simple
they are on the outside,
are not what they seem.

Trillions of stars,
billions of planets,
millions of galaxies,
thousands of possibilities,
hundreds of variations,
tens of directions –
but only one of each of us;
each of us bound,
each of us free,
each of us still connected
genetically to ancestors
and to distant family members
who once spent a great deal of time
thinking, adapting, understanding,
and swinging from the branches of trees.

The farther back in time we go
into the history of Earth,
and the more we read of humanities
relationship with the planet
we are blessed to live on,
we can tell and we can see
the direct effect that we as a species
have had on our environment,
on life, on ourselves,
and the most fundamental fingerprint
of humanity is the ability
to deliver change globally –
both quickly, and slowly,
quietly, and sometimes boldly –
and because change is in our nature,
we sometimes do not know when
or how to stop.

One thing that I have learned about life
is that nothing is predetermined in stone –
but a prosperous and a hopeful future for all
can happen if people work together,
and if hope can be promised, assured,
and delivered every time it is spoken,
or shown by those who in the pyramid of the world
lead from the front as well as from the top.

My Poem ‘Live for the moment’

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

Living for the moment,
living in the moment;
doing something different,
going somewhere different;
soaking up the rays of the sun,
going out and having all kinds of fun;
having so many ideas in your head
you do not know where to start,
thinking about so many things to do –
the thought of the potential possibilities
feel almost too much for both your head and your heart;
taking the initiative and acting on instinct;
making a plan to dive low and rise high,
like the bubbles of a fizzy drink.

Where once things felt harder,
because they felt so far away –
today, everything is accessible with a touch;
where once people used to think
that there was a literal edge and end to the Earth,
humanity has learned that no matter where
and in what direction you travel
there is always more to see and further to go –
because the world is constantly
and instantaneously redefining the meaning of living,
and when it comes to Life
that could not and will not ever be enough.

One of the greatest things you can do
is to plant a seed, and with your care and attention
watch it grow before your eyes;
one of the best experiences of your life
is when you are doing something with someone
and everything feels effortless, timeless, momentous,
and truth transcends words;
one of the moments that stays with you
is the feeling of intense and deep happiness
without the need to try;
one of the things that reminds you
that you are a part of something
larger and greater than you might have realized,
is something that you see and feel everyday –
but which you may take for granted,
and that is Life itself:
the air we breathe,
the language and the detail
in the landscape that surrounds us,
and in the burning core and in the heart
at the centre of our beautiful and glorious world.

There are oceans of energy,
as well as oceans of water;
there are reasons for things to be as they are,
beyond how they appear;
there are silent languages of signs
that say infinitely more than the response
of a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ answer;
there are people who are more in-tune
with the needs, the voice,
and the poetry of our sphere;
there is a constant concert performing
that is free to attend, and anyone can revel at it
and participate in it with the gift
of their birth-born instrument;
there is a time to embrace and to seize life,
and that time is always right now…
so take this instant, and run with it!
And whatever you do next, promise yourself
to make the most of every second…
and live for the moment!

My Poem ‘The First Impression’

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

The first impression
is always the most important;
the way that you present yourself
speaks volumes about how important
something is to you;
the first word that you speak
echoes and forever stands out;
the old saying that you can tell a lot
about someone just by watching
and noticing how someone walks in their shoes,
and what someone’s choice of footwear
can tell you about someone,
is absolutely true;
the first of anything
sets the standard for everything to follow;
the first expression can have as much impact
as a burst of light from the sun;
the first message is often forgotten –
however, if and when reread,
that same first chain of words,
at the end of everything,
always resurfaces and means the most;
the first signs, the first icons,
can imprint more meaning, more feeling,
and they can be a source of constant hope,
like the always recognizable symbol of love.

Meeting someone you love,
meeting someone you care for and adore,
meeting someone you have never met before for the first time,
meeting and greeting someone at your front door,
is one of the best things that will ever happen to you –
especially, because the more instant
and unexpected that first meeting is
it can speed up your thoughts
and your heart-rate so fast that
that first view can change you.

Love at first sight is true,
it exists, and it is not simply a myth
invented by romantics;
the first exposure to anything,
especially at a young age,
will inform a great many
of your important life-decisions;
the first reaction that you have to something
can sometimes be deceptive –
but the look that someone gives you with their eyes
can be as rhythmic as a song-lyric;
and just as everybody follows one kind
and one type of a fashion,
so too does everything grow
from that very important first impression.

My poem ‘The Dreamer and The Dream’

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

Everyone is a dreamer,
everyone has a dream…
everybody is a creator,
everybody can be
whomever they want to be.
Stay hopeful! Be optimistic!
Be incredible!
Believe in miracles,
and witness life’s magic!

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Check out the ebook version of my new book ‘The Dreamer and The Dream‘ on Amazon right now! 😊

My Poem ‘One of a kind father’

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

The real and true super-man of my childhood;
the one man while growing up
who could make anything and everything happen;
the hero of great strength,
whose greatest super-power makes us who we are,
because they are a part of us,
just as we are a part of them,
and because their life-force
is literally in our blood;
the man who we look to
and imprint on from day one;
our Dad, our father,
our sun who shines down and smiles upon us
when we are feeling sad;
our life-giving, caring, amazing, creator
who for us there could be no other.

Birthdays, holidays, unmissable moments
that would not be the same
without that one special person;
first words, first voices, first steps
that may never have been
without the man who watched over us,
and who called to us,
and who encouraged us to never stop;
mornings, nights, early rises, bedtimes
that always would have been missing
something and someone important
if we had not have had them;
the constant giant
who we all looked to
as our all-powerful god.

My Dad loves his family,
and my family love my Dad;
if it were not for my Dad
I would not be the man that I am,
nor would I have had the extraordinary,
happy, love-filled life
that I have been blessed to have had;
my father and my mother
were always fated to meet each other
and to be together,
and while there is blood in my veins,
and air in my lungs,
I will always feel the spirit, the love,
and I will always speak the name
of the best man in my life,
who will be with me everyday…
and that man is my incredible, wonderful,
amazing, one of a kind, father.