possibilities

My Poem ‘The Mermaid’

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

Before writers started looking
above the clouds and imagining
the wonders of creation
that may live on other worlds,
orbiting around other stars…
before philosophers started dwelling
on the burning questions of human existence…
before any child ever dreamed
about setting foot on another planet…
before rockets, before planes,
before trains, before cars…
before there were countries with governments
led by the will of presidents…
the ancient seven seas of Earth
were believed by many to be
where the most amazing and fantastic,
supernatural and magical,
being and life resided –
and there must have been many
a sea-faring captain of a ship
who must have stayed up all night long
dreaming about capturing
a mythical creature from the ocean depths.

Epic and gigantic monsters…
tentacled behemoths…
giant and colossus monstrosities…
the nightmare characters of those who spent days,
months, even years, battling the forces of nature
over vast expanses of the oceans of the world
hoping to come face to face
with the unseen and the undiscovered…
in the days when and where dragons were thought
to live on the literal edge of the Earth…
gods of all names, sizes and colours, were worshiped
and had monuments erected in their honour…
when the possibility of traveling to another country
on the other side of the world
was so incredible to think of
it could only be the stuff of fantasy…
it was in the days before
the world fought itself in war after war
that everybody believed there was more to be found
than anybody had ever seen before.

Even in this day and age,
even in this decade and century,
we are still discovering life on our planet
that for some reason or another
had remained hidden and secret in seclusion
and were only the spoken or written word
of a story told and retold
by people who claimed to have had
a first-hand close-encounter;
every day something extraordinary
has a light shined upon it
and the knowledge of it actually being
a living-thing is so miraculous
it creates shock-waves;
there is no more powerful reminder
of the infinite possibilities of life
than nature – and there are countless times
when that fact has been abundantly clear;
everywhere you look,
every day around the world,
even today in the 21st century,
we are all surrounded by images
and iconography of myths that still live on –
be they leprechauns, dragons, epic crusades,
or a beautiful green and white mermaid.

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My Poem ‘We are all one’

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

Joy may come in the morning for you
in more ways than you might expect –
someone with a passion
and a drive and a love for what they do
cannot wait to jump out of bed,
while someone who feels like
they do not have a purpose in life
might open their eyes
and then close them again quickly
and cover themselves up again
below the covers
like a bird putting their wing
over them as they rest
comfortably in their nest –
however, the truth is
that everybody has a role in life,
everybody is meant to be alive,
and everybody is born to be
just as they are –
everybody is a necessary source of experience,
knowledge, instinct, inspiration,
heat and light, like a candle burning in the dark.

We all go through a metamorphosis;
we all go through an identity-crisis;
we all go through doors to places
we do not always know where;
we all go through stages of re-evaluating
what our priorities in life are,
just as we all sometimes struggle
to pick-out what we want to wear;
we are all a creation
and made in the same guise as the divine;
we are all here to be something to someone;
we are all blessed from birth
with the gift of infinite possibilities,
even if we are not given an endless life of time;
we are all of our time
and no matter how you see yourself,
or how somebody else sees you,
never forget that we are all reflections,
we are all human, we are all
resonators of change and emotion;
life is a lesson in accepting the undeniable fact
that we are all one.

My Poem ‘Yesteryear’

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

Sitting in the same spot,
wearing the same shoes,
unlocking a door
usually kept shut,
looking out through a window
and seeing a unchanged view;
remembering the past
without reliving it,
remembering poems that I wrote
right here about a time in the future;
everybody is nostalgic, especially a poet;
the more I see, the more I think,
the more I write, the more I remember,
and the more that the pages of my mind
flick back and forth,
I pick up on things that I left behind
from the last time that I was here.

The past is a story that we all tell ourselves,
and for good reason when we come up upon
moments from our lives we do sometimes find
blank pages full of words written in invisible ink;
the present is like being at a crossroads
of time and possibilities;
the future is sometimes not going to turn out
just how you think;
the Earth keeps turning,
the people keep moving,
the seasons keep changing,
life keeps evolving as it has
and as it will continue to do so
for centuries upon centuries to come.

We sit across from ourselves more than we realize;
we are constantly searching for commonalities;
we all want to see ourselves reflected
in another person’s eyes;
we all imagine different realities;
some things will always change,
some things will always be the same;
some things are other things
just repackaged in a different box
with a different name;
some things come back time and again.

Tears must fall;
forests must grow;
flowers must rise tall;
rivers of all colours must flow;
life can sometimes feel like you are walking
through a hall of mirrors;
we must all learn to capture every miracle
and make it a part of us
before it disappears;
a life of anticipation can feel like
you are constantly waiting
for a parcel to be delivered;
as I get older and as I travel
and I am pulled along by destiny’s slipstream,
I constantly find reasons to say
that I am glad to be here –
and now, as before, I walk forward
while closing again and walking away
from the door of yesteryear.

My Poem ‘Back to the Future’

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

Wednesday,
October 21,
2015

There are things that silently inspire us;
there are things that we can call back to
that can have the effect of being
a time-travel flux-capacitor;
there are things that truly have a hand
in making us;
there are things from all of our pasts
that we constantly strive to bring back
and make them a part of our future.

For everybody,
every day of our childhood
is a playground that we always want
to make the most of;
when we are children
we all look up and are absolutely captivated
and hypnotized by the sight
of an airplane flying through the sky above;
everybody uses their imagination
and the memories of the things
that they have seen and heard
to build dream-landscapes and new worlds
of all hues and colours within their mind;
we all have a date that we always say
that if we could go anywhere
at any specific moment from our lives
that we would always choose to go to
and to go back to, if at any instance
it were possible to travel through time.

The idea of time-travel –
just as with the possibilities of space-travel –
is a wondrous fantasy that we have all
entertained more than once;
the amazing prospect of being able to go back
and come face to face with a direct relative
or ancestor of ours,
who we share a miraculous similarity to,
is one that we would all embrace with both hands
if we were given the chance;
some people would rather live in the future,
while others would prefer to know the future –
especially their own personal future;
I, personally, would love
to be able to flash back
and see myself, and perhaps introduce myself
to myself at a young age,
and reassure my adolescent self
that if you/I believe in yourself/myself,
and if you/I continue to be
who you/I know you are/I am,
and as long as you are happy,
every day of your life will contain within it
a glistening and shining jewel
like the pearl within an oyster.

Everybody wishes
that they could meet their parents
when they were younger;
everybody watches movies
that depict a potential future
and they hope that that imagined world
would come true sooner rather than later;
everybody wishes that they had a time-machine
to use at their leisure;
everybody sees things
or witnesses something
that they wish hadn’t happened
that they would definitely
change the outcome of,
or stop from happening entirely,
if they had the means
and the time to do over.

We are all time-travelers;
we are all traveling every second
into an unknown future
that we have next-to-no power over
to control beyond the actions
that we choose to make;
we are all effecting the world around us
with every step that we take;
we are all able to travel
without the need for roads
and discover our reason to be:
where we are going and why –
just like Doc. Brown and Marty McFly did
in one of my favourite films from my childhood…
Back to the Future.

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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 Open Window’

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

I have never been able to say “no”
to an open window;
like a little white bird on a ledge,
I have never been able to fight
the feeling, the draw,
nor have I ever been able
to not take an opportunity
to fly off on an adventure –
like a child dreaming so happily
and so soundly that they are
far far away in a Neverland
of infinite imagination,
while still tucked up
at night in bed.

An open window first thing in the morning
to me is always a calling;
the view of a beautiful scene
on a hot and sunny afternoon
is as rejuvenating as a kiss;
an insight into another life
in which the possibilities are infinite
is an adventure that I never want to miss;
the white clouds of the day,
and the stars of the night,
keep me dreaming and imagining
while I am still wide awake
of epic worlds that keep me going
and thinking all day, all night,
and straight on till morning.

Windows do not stay open
for as long as doors do;
windows sometimes have to be broken through,
or more ideally climbed through;
windows can show each of us things
before we actually see them in the flesh,
so to speak;
windows… every window
are living and constantly changing and evolving
pictures of life and time
that are momentary, brief, precious, and unique.

Mirrors are reflected images,
while windows on the other hand
can let things come in as well as let things
fly free into the open air;
mirrors can only show you backwards messages,
while windows allow you to leap and go anywhere;
mirrors show only a distorted world;
windows are how children
and those with a phenomenal imagination
are able to understand what is going on
around them without having to hear
or speak a single word.

The best dreams are born
when you let every thought grow and flow;
the most inspiring stories
are inspired by searching for answers
to questions you have not yet asked
about things you did not realize
you did not already know;
just by letting everything and everyone
be connected to each other
you can invite within the light of life
and magic, and perhaps even share
something of yourself with an eternal spirit
who can at times lose their own shadow.
My favourite character of literature
would have to be Peter Pan,
and even though I may have grown older in years
I still cannot, nor will I,
ever be able to resist the temptation,
the fascination, and the flight of imagination
that I always take when I see
and when I look through an open window.

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My Poem ‘When’

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

When things happen is no accident;
timing is everything;
when it is the right time to do something
is sometimes a matter of instinct;
when the conditions are favourable and right
anyone can do anything.

Sometimes you just know;
sometimes you just have a feeling;
sometimes you have to lead,
and sometimes you have to follow;
sometimes to learn how dangerous something is
you have to walk into a storm
and accept the possibility
that you might get struck by lightning.

Most things that seem accidental
are actually fateful;
most things that feel out of the blue
are wishes come true;
most things that feel natural
are the real deal;
most things that you want
you to work hard for,
but life can be so much easier
if you remember, and if you count on,
those who were there when you needed them
years before.

The time is now;
the choice is simple;
the rebuilding of anything can only happen
if you can truthfully make a vow;
time only counts if you make something of it;
if something means anything to you at all
then it is always worth reaching out
and trying again;
if you want to see a flower bloom again in your garden,
you need to take some time
and you need to pay some attention
to the importance of the ‘when’.

My Poem ‘Another Life’

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

Do I dare dream of another life?
Do I dare to think about what could be?
Do I dare to make real the dreams that I dream every night?
Do I dare to feel what I feel when I see what I see?

Uncertainty can be scary;
when you can’t see the other side of something,
you might as well be staring into a singularity;
if you don’t run, and jump head-first into the unknown,
you may never know what is out there;
if you don’t try your hardest at something,
you may not realize just how much you care.

Things can sometimes be covered over from view from you,
as if under a blanket of thick white snow –
and unless you dig deep there might be some things
you might not discover, and never know.
Life gives us all signposts to follow,
but most people miss them when they first look;
if you believe in something,
if you believe in yourself,
if you believe that you have something to offer –
then you can do and be anything:
a soldier; a teacher; a writer,
who has the opportunity to put his stories,
imagination, and dreams, on paper
and see them proliferate all over the world,
as the printed words of the author of a book.

Anything is possible.
The world, and the people of this day and age,
have made it so that anyone can achieve their dreams.
Life, and the human heart, is fragile – but also powerful;
and if you were to spend a day and a night
watching the cycle of life you would understand the calling
that doctors and nurses know, hear, and see,
when they work a shift at a hospital.
Just because something appears as if it is done, at first glance,
it doesn’t mean that the spirit of something
you thought was gone won’t rise again from the flames.

For the rest of your life,
you can keep asking why? until the day you die –
but while you are doing that
you may miss the answer you have been looking for;
sometimes in life you have to go out
and find that spark that you need,
because it won’t always and spontaneously knock on your door;
so if you are thinking about giving something a try,
by all means do it if it feels right to you –
because that just might be the first step that you need to take
to finding and having another life.