My Poem ‘Burning Bright’

March 28, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry authors, books, Bradbury, bright, burning, characters, inspiring, language, life, poem, poet, poet of the sphere, poetry, Ray, stories, The Eternal Boy, the sound of mark, writers, writing

‘Poet of the Sphere’,
‘The Sound of Mark’,
‘The Eternal Boy’ –
I am my books, and my books are me;
just as Ray Bradbury is ‘Fahrenheit 451’,
‘The Martian Chronicles’, ‘The Illustrated Man’ –
just as those books will forever be
Ray Bradbury.

An author has a connection to their books,
to their stories,
that is even beyond the words that they have written;
a published writer is a part
of each and every one of their books –
deeper than the cover, the ink, the paper, the ideas;
a storyteller knows what it is
to have true unburdened and unbounded imagination;
a wordsmith embodies their words and their works,
and their power cannot be taken away from them,
not even by fire.

To me, there is no greater sin in this life
than to burn a book, to try and destroy a story,
to undo what was done and written;
to me, there is no greater crime
than ignorance of the truth;
to me, everyone of Earth with a story to tell
deserves to speak aloud and stand under a hot sun;
to me, and to a lot of writers,
the knowledge of life that each and every one
of us possesses is what keeps us Human,
and it is what makes us unique –
magic is real,
and language and stories are the proof.

J.M. Barrie is Peter Pan;
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is Sherlock Holmes;
Terry Prachett is every character
that lives on the ‘Disk World’;
William Shakespeare is every character
that he wrote and gave life to in his plays;
Stephen King is Roland Deschain
from his epic ‘Dark Tower’ series of books;
Neil Gaiman is ‘Shadow’ from ‘American Gods’;
Douglas Adams is Arthur Dent;
J.K. Rowling is Harry Potter;
J.R.R. Tolkien is Bilbo Baggins;
and I am every one of my poems,
that to me are like rhyming short-stories.

Every writer of every book,
is each and every one of the characters that they write;
every myth, tale, and story, is an inspiring light;
every author deserves to have their books
remembered and embodied until the end of time –
from the sunrise of every morning,
until the moon fades away again
at the end of another night;
every story can live forever and be retold,
if people take them into their minds
and into their hearts,
and allow them to never stop
burning bright.

In memory of Ray Bradbury;
and all authors, all books;
and all myths, tales,
characters, and stories.

My Poem ‘Mark of a Masterpiece’

March 27, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry art, artist, creativity, creator, elation, feeling, Heart, inspiration, life, masterpiece, meaning, music, nature, paradise, perfect, perfection, phenomena, poem, poet, poetry, writer, writing

What makes something a masterpiece,
what makes something second to none,
and perfect, is not a science,
and cannot be predicted;
what makes something stand out,
and perhaps be considered an epic
and a profound work of art,
all comes down to feeling,
emotion, timing, and an electric shock
of energy like a bolt of lightning.

A masterpiece calls to your heart
and gives rise to an overwhelming sensation;
a masterpiece elates you and changes you;
a masterpiece sews the seed of inspiration;
a masterpiece is like the sun in the sky,
or an island on an ocean,
with an endless message from the artist and creator
for you, to perhaps keep its essence
replaying in your mind
like an unforgettable tune.

Everybody has their own idea of perfection –
to some, a place of silence is a paradise;
everybody can remember a day and a time
when they arrived somewhere,
and they knew in their heart
that they had reached their destination;
to some, a person of great beauty in all forms,
and in every side of themselves,
would be somebodies categorical definition
of breathtaking exquisiteness
that they have ever seen with their eyes,
or felt with their senses.

A musical phenomenon to your ears;
a visual extravaganza to your eyes;
a hallucinogenic overload of your thoughts;
an intense and extreme maximizing and amplifying
of touch, taste, smell, greater than the impact
they had on you when you were born;
anything and everything that impacts you,
and leaves an impression on you,
is a masterpiece that is a cure
for any and all of your fears.

I have seen masterpieces of nature;
I have been entranced by masterpieces of art;
I have tasted masterpieces of flavours;
I have felt masterpieces of a person’s heart;
to me, anything that brings about a change
in a person, a place, a feeling, an idea,
about the meaning of life,
is as important as understanding and peace,
and is the true mark of a masterpiece.

My Poem ‘Tableau’

March 26, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry art, colour, Emotions, feeling, frozen, Heart, inspiration, instant, motionless, people, poem, poet, poetry, reality, Reason, stillness, tableau, The world, time

The music stops.
Time stands still.
You could hear
the sound of a pin drop.
Everyone and everything
is motionless
and as statuesque
as anyone could ever hope to be.
I look around where I am,
and I see the many different faces of people
who are in the exact same place,
at the exact same time, with me;
I was searching for inspiration,
however it looks like it has found me.

People come to the same place –
but, more often than not,
for different reasons;
I come here to write, to observe,
to listen, to enjoy the atmosphere,
and also to drink some coffee –
however, I can see that even though
there are parallels in people’s lives,
everybody is here under a different guise.

I scan the space where I am in a flash,
and I make instant observations of the people
sitting at all the tables:
some people are talking,
some people are reading,
some people are drinking,
some people are in the middle
of a moment of laughter,
and some people look as if
they are on their way to leaving;
some people look happy;
some people look sad;
some people look over-joyed;
some people look like
they are students from university;
some people look at home where they are sat;
some people are looking in at us all
through the window that separates
the inside from the outside.
Some people look incredibly fashion-conscious;
some people look religious;
some people look like they are on their way to work;
some people look as if they are reading something
that they need to learn.

Most people are wearing the same colours –
black, blue, and grey,
appear to be the predominant palette of choice;
however, there are small touches
being worn by people that set them apart
and show their inner-personality and voice.

Reality snaps back.
Time starts moving forward again.
People continue with their lives.
That frozen moment moves
from being the present to the past;
words are spoken;
people continue their conversations;
and at that instant,
there is the most intense
and extreme explosion of light.

The world is a work of art;
the masterpiece that is life
is a canvas that changes in infinite ways –
by the moment, you can see, feel, and think,
so much within the time of the beat of a heart;
life moves so fast,
and sometimes the only way
that you can truly appreciate
the tapestry of existence
is to have a moment of true stillness –
when you can look at the world
and see it like a tableau.

My Poem ‘Don’t stay silent’

March 25, 2015March 25, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry abuse, accountable, don't, eradicated, fear, freedom, intolerable, life, live, me, people, poem, poetry, rape, rite, silent, stay, stop, stories, victims, writing

Every day, someone is abused by someone else;
every hour, someone is subjected
to a storm of words that cut like a knife;
every minute, someone – a child, a man,
or even just a woman walking her dog –
is made to feel as if they are just a piece of meat,
a punching bag, and attacked like a wild animal,
and beaten both verbally and physically,
and looked upon as someone who is helpless,
and THIS MUST STOP! THIS MUST NOT HAPPEN!
Everyone who just wants to live their life
and walk through life unimpeded and unscarred,
deserves to have that god-given freedom and rite.

I am disgusted to hear that son’s
who have not been taught how to respect a woman,
or any human being, are terrorizing women of all ages
and giving them nightmares of fear;
I am at a loss to understand
what gives anybody the rite to make someone
burst into tears;
I cannot believe that in this day and age
abuse is still happening behind closed doors,
as well as in broad-daylight.

Rape, or even the threat of rape, is intolerable;
abusers in all shapes and forms
must be held accountable;
we must all do all that we can
to educate children to respect
their fellow man and woman;
and our animals also need protecting –
we must all do all that we can
to stop all despicable acts of abuse of every kind,
and it should be one of society’s most important pledges.

People’s stories of abuse deserve to be told
and brought into the light,
and they should not be quietened.
Abuse needs to be spoken about and eradicated,
and the victims of abuse,
for the sake of those who are too afraid to speak out,
must not continue to stay silent.

My Poem ‘Sputnik’

March 25, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry answer, constellations, distant, earth, human, me, moon, nature, orion, planets, poem, poet, poetry, question, satellite, space, Sputnik, Stars, twilight, universe, window, world, writing

It’s six o’clock at night,
on a cool spring evening,
and I am looking out my window to the sky
at a beautiful gold and blue light,
watching the sun setting –
and the sight of it takes my breath away;
and within seconds,
I watch the sky go from red to grey,
as all that I see becomes draped
in the dark veil of twilight.

I watch the stars appear;
I see the planets rise;
I see the ultimate display of the constellations,
and I name them one by one, as I imagine them;
and then, when I see the constellation of Orion,
I am awestruck by how wonderfully its stars
shine so clear, and my entire vision
is that of an infinite number of stars in my eyes.

I spent my day taking in nature,
listening to the world around me,
being captivated by birdsong,
and watching the building of bird-nests
in the branches of the trees above,
and in the hedges of the ground below;
I spent my day believing that I knew
all in life that I could ever need to know.

Right this second, I feel like a satellite;
right at this moment, I feel like I am alone in space,
and no one even knows I am here –
because I am just a faint moving white dot in the dark sky;
right now, I feel so far away –
like a distant flickering candle
in the window of a cottage atop a hill;
and barely noticeable –
like a star of the night;
now, I look down,
and around at everyone else on Earth,
and I see what I can of their lives:
I see true happiness,
and I wonder what that feels like.

I look up at the moon;
I gaze up at the stars;
I see the heavens –
the place from where we all came from,
and I dream that I may return there soon;
I imagine that I can reach up and touch the sky,
because in the dark the void of space
does not seem that far.

Every human being has looked above
on a star-lit night, and wondered:
are we alone in the universe?
And, is anybody else out there?
I have asked myself that very question,
and I know the definitive answer –
and I speak that answer aloud every night.

Everybody sometimes goes into their own
“hibernation mode”, in which they appear
to leave their worries in another place somewhere;
I have always found it difficult
to remove myself from the world,
and not think about what is always on my mind;
some days I wish I could be a living, breathing,
astronaut floating in space –
or a part of Earth, circling the planet,
like the very first satellite: Sputnik.

My Poem ‘An Acquired Taste’

March 24, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry acquired, children, connection, contrast, Exposure, important, influential, life, links, parents, particular, people, poem, poet, poetry, relationships, taste, Unapologetically

After we are born,
the one thing that we crave,
without even knowing it,
is comfort, closeness, touch,
and the feeling of being held,
and we instantly form a connection
with the first face that we see
when we get over the shock
of emerging and being thrust into the world,
and we start figuring out
exactly where we are, who we are, what we can do,
and the things that matter to us most importantly.

Our initial exposure to certain things
is incredibly influential
to the person who we will grow up to be;
being a child can be harder
and more confusing than we think;
for a parent, just being there for your child is the key;
the first bonds and connections that we make
are our life-long and most important links.

As we get older, the way we think changes;
the way we react to things changes,
and the relationships that we have change also –
because life sometimes is about going through
and adapting to many different and evolving phases:
physically, emotionally, spiritually –
and the more we see and feel,
the more we question, and ask: is this real?

Everything in life is a matter of taste –
like clothes, in life, some things we grow into,
and some things we grow out of;
something that still has value to it
should never be thought of as a waste;
in life, for every one person
who spends their days looking down,
there is always someone else
who is always looking up and above.

Tastes can change, depending on the day;
tastes can switch, depending on the weather;
tastes, like most things in life,
always repeat and will always reoccur;
taste is like music that speaks to your soul
and fills your world –
and no matter what, must be played and heard.

Some people drink coffee;
some people drink tea;
some people only drink things that are natural –
like water, or fruit juice –
and never drink anything that contains any caffeine;
some people like particular brands of clothing;
some people have an obsession
with a particular type of car;
some people spend lots of time
on what they should be wearing;
some people are painfully particular;
and, to me, as long as someone’s choices
do no actual harm, I have no problem with that –
because they are the way they are,
and they are vital in showing
that life is not one way, or another,
and that existence is a universe of wonderful
and phenomenal contrast.

Some things we are born with;
some things we are born into;
every face of everyone on Earth
is as striking and as fragile as a vase;
some things we orbit around our entire life;
some things have been there in your life
since day one, even though they may seem brand new;
most things in life are unapologetically
an acquired taste.

My Poem ‘Autograph’

March 23, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry appreciation, art, autograph, famous, gift, Honor, life, me, name, Notoriety, poem, poet, poetry, Role-model, signature, signed, special

Signed objects of all kinds
have always been highly sort-after;
signed books, paintings, pictures,
ceramics, and all kinds of works of art,
that have been touched by the pen,
the hand, or the brush,
of a writer, an artist,
or the person whom that has been captured,
have always been considered to have great value –
especially if they are thought of as rare.

To have something that has been genuinely marked
by someone truly wonderful,
to me is like owning the first edition
of an epic book by a phenomenal writer;
to actually look into the eyes of someone
after they have signed something is truly special;
and telling someone how they have touched your life
and feeling the warmth in them
from them seeing your appreciation of them and their art,
does make a great moment even greater,
and the world does become that much brighter.

People who have achieved notoriety,
and who are famous because they have done something
that has made a difference,
do not truly know what they mean to some people –
but to be able to see someone’s eyes light-up
because of you is something that is magnificent;
and the knowledge that you are a role-model for people
may sometimes be thought of as a burden to some,
however I would think of it as an honour –
because even the fact that someone
who you have never met before
knows who you are- to me, at least –
is something incredible.

Whenever I stand in line
to get something autographed by someone
who I have admired for a long time,
and then I come face to face with them,
each and every time, is it absolutely sublime!
Whenever someone asks me for my signature,
I take great joy in putting pen to paper –
because the mark of my name is very personal,
and giving someone something with my name on it
I always think of as a great gift of mine.
Every time I sign my name
I think of it as if it were both
my first and my last –
and even though I may not have signed my name
as many times as some celebrities must have,
I still think that there is something great
about having something, and signing something,
with an autograph.

My Poem ‘Elise Jené’

March 22, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry Angel, Canadian, Elise Jene, friend, inspiring, messenger, Musician, poem, poetry, singer, Surya Devi, teacher, wonderful

My beautiful, wonderful
and talented friend, Elise Jené,
is, and has been, an inspiring light
for everyone who has ever met her –
and that was something that I saw,
felt, and knew, when I first met her,
all those years ago,
when she became my friend on that first day.

Elise is a musician, a teacher,
a healer, a divine messenger;
Elise is a singer, a song-writer,
a lover of life, who I once described
as a “jewel of Canada”;
Elise is a friend, a warrior,
a believer, a world-traveler,
and an extra-dimensional explorer –
who has not only seen the world,
but she also understands the world;
and until I met her,
I had never met anyone like her.

I have been listening to Elise’s music for years;
I have been listening to Elise’s beautiful voice
and been literally been brought to tears;
I have thought of Elise as a spiritual guide for me,
ever since we first traded messages;
I have seen Elise rise higher and higher,
and I truly believe that her spirit and mine
have been communicating for ages.

When Elise plays her guitar,
when Elise plays a song on a piano,
when Elise sings a song of hers,
I am instantly reminded of the meaning of the heavens,
the universe, and the music of the stars;
when Elise performs, and talks,
I am always captivated by her voice –
and I can even imagine seeing her sing and play,
even if I can only, merely, and wonderfully
hear her voice on the radio.

My friend is great;
my friend is beautiful and amazing in so many ways;
my friend is so close to me in spirit,
even if she is physically far-away;
my friend is incredible,
and I am so lucky to have an infinite friend
like my friend, Elise Jené.

Check out my friend Elise Jene’s amazing website SuryaDevi.com and check our her amazing music @ Mantrasforthemasses.com

My Poem ‘One for the road’

March 22, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry bumper stickers, fascination, favourites, journey, life, poem, poet, poetry, road, slogans, talisman, totem

When we are about to set out
and head down a road somewhere,
we all need something to take with us
and drive us forward as we go;
when we are about to make a move
into the wild open air,
we all sometimes need a talisman
that, as our journey evolves,
may become more important to us
than at first we could ever know.

I have always been fascinated
by the sayings and the slogans
of “bumper-stickers” that you sometimes see,
and can read, on the outside of a car, a van, or a truck –
mostly on the roads of the United States of America;
I cannot remember all the insightful things that I have read,
however most of the bumper stickers’ messages
that have adorned the vehicles that I have seen,
to me, are the things that perfectly capture
their drivers, and give a small insight
into who they are.

A favourite book to read along the way;
a memorable album of music to listen to
that always carries you like a wave;
a favourite drink that can keep you wide-eyed
and ready for what awaits you;
the memory of someone, whose face makes you as happy
to see them as a sky of bright-blue.

The road ahead could be anything;
where you are going could be anywhere;
the road ahead could mean anything;
where you are going might be
just the beginning of a story
that you may one day want to share.

One thing can come to mean everything;
one moment can spark into life something amazing;
one word, one phrase, can come to have
profound significance to you,
and can even become your own personal code;
one totem, one symbol, can be all that you need,
when what you want is simply
one for the road.

My Poem ‘The Thinker’

March 21, 2015 Mark Hastings Poetry creative, empathetic, Empathic, fascination, human, inspiration, life, me, poem, poet, poetry, thinker, Thinking, thought, wonderful, writer, writing

I am often observed
“lost in thought”,
and staring into space;
if you were to follow my eye-line
and believe that I were looking at nothing,
I am afraid that you would be wrong –
because, secretly, quietly, tantalizingly,
I am looking at the world,
and seeing everything:
the nature of life,
the order in the chaos;
and, as always,
what I see is constantly changing,
and the universe is always inspiring.

I sometimes forget where I am;
I sometimes lose all track of time;
I sometimes can be so enraptured
in the writing of a new poem,
that my heart-heat slows –
however I feel completely fine,
because I am in a maelstrom of fascination,
and I know that I could not stop writing
even if I wanted to,
because I am surfing like a pro
on a wave of inspiration.

Human consciousness, Human thought,
Human focus, Human art,
is our greatest gift
and our most wonderful achievement,
as a race and as a species:
we are thinkers, and believers of things;
in our own unique way, in my opinion,
no two people could ever think exactly the same –
even if they shared a link
that was telepathic, or empathic –
because we all live in different existences of degrees;
I do, however, believe that,
no matter how different we are from each other,
we are all bound together in infinite ways –
every action, every thought, every emotion,
creates it’s own interactive and universal tidal-wave.

Thinking as deeply and intensely as I do
is a wonderful gift to be able to unfurl
and wrap myself up in;
and, in turn, I do see some things
as questions that needs answers –
however, I would rather be who I am,
than someone who does not realize
the power that they have between their ears –
and that is why I am glad,
and that is why I am content,
to continue to be thought of as a writer,
and most importantly as a thinker.

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