tragedy

My Poem “The Heart of A Family”

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

There are some things in this life
that cannot be predicted…
there are moments in our lives
that we never want to see repeated…
there are some things and some people
that we all sometimes take for granted…
there are truly terror-inducing,
fear-filled, horrifying and shocking
things that happen to fathers,
to brothers, to sisters, to mothers –
to members of a family –
that have the power of a lightning-bolt,
the gravity of a star, and the explosive
impact of a bomb being detonated
to bring people to their knees.

When terror and tragedy strike
time is always of the essence…
when there is the fear that
someone could lose their life
every action of every second is precious…
when someone’s heart stops beating
the split-second instincts
of a stranger could mean everything…
when a chaotic event takes place
the present and the future
of a person’s life can depend upon
so many disaparate pieces of a puzzle
coming together, to work together,
to give something to someone else:
to restart a person’s heart,
to breathe life back into the lungs of someone, in my opinion,
is nothing short of a miracle,
because giving the gift of life,
so that someone may carry on
living and breathing once again,
is truly incredible and phenomenal in every way.

So many things run through a person’s mind
when they hear that something
out of their control has happened
to someone that they love…
so many different scenarios
are considered and so many
things are thrown into the air
in order to find out who or what
was to blame for what happened,
and for what mostly could not have been foreseen;
however, ultimately, the truth about every one of us is that
no one is untouchable,
everybody is vulnerable –
and when the life of somebody
who is important to a group of people
is threatened in some way
it becomes greatly apparent
whom it is who stands, sustains,
and is the driving force
at the heart of a family.

Dedicated to my Dad
My Dad

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My Poem ‘Manchester’

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

A minute of silence…
a handful of moments…
a precious gift to those
who tragically lost their lives…
sixty seconds of stillness
to remember the children of Manchester.

Only days ago
young and old gathered-together
to enjoy the music of their idol…
not even a week ago
men and women, girls and boys,
showed their love
and shared the love
that they felt for life
with one-another…
it was only the other day
that new angels were born in heaven.

Time does not stop,
but we cannot move on –
we are all still mourning the loss
of the beautiful and innocent souls
who left their homes
but who will sadly never return.

How can a father, a mother,
a sister, a brother,
a cousin, a niece, a nephew,
a relative, possibly understand
and recover from what has happened?
What can a city, a people, a country,
a way of life, a world do to make sure
that the selfish and murderous deeds
of a demonic coward that walks among us
does not win a battle in the epic struggle
that is constantly being fought
between good and evil?

The only way to keep somebody
and something alive
is to never forget them…
the only way that I know how to live
is to hope for the best
and to pray that the entire world
will one day all share
the same hopes for one-another.

After something indescribable
and shocking happens
being there for those in need
is what is the most important…
today and everyday,
everybody and everywhere,
all over the world,
will never forget
and they will always remember
the lights that went out
and were reborn in heaven,
who were born in a city
and in a country
who they will always be a part of,
and they will always remain
in the hearts and in the minds of
the people of Great Britain
and the great city of Manchester.

Dedicated to all the children and all the men and women who lost their lives on the 25th of May, 2017, and for all of the people who have been affected by the horror that took place in Manchester… you will never be forgotten.

My Poem ‘Survivor Instinct’

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

Once the mist has lifted,
once the dust has settled,
once a new day begins
and the dark clouds have drifted,
and the frozen time has melted,
once the sunlight breaks through
and showers to the ground,
once people find a way to say something
to fill the void of silence
once again with sound,
once everybody no longer feels guilty
for showing a smile –
everybody can learn to accept and to move on
without constantly living every hour in denial.

Some people do not blink,
some people do not know,
some people do not think,
some people care so much
that even the thought
of something tragic
happening to someone else
anywhere in the world
feels like they are
carrying a heavy load.

There are people
who would do anything
and would give anything
to someone who was in need
more than them;
there are people
who get up out of bed
hoping to help someone in some way;
there are people
who feel a need to give to charity
in the form of a donation;
there are people
who live their life
with a constant open hand
to anyone and everyone every day.

Heroes are all around us;
angels walk among us;
where there is dark you can find light;
you never know when someone
is going to safe your life.

When something is happening far away from you
it is easy to convince yourself
that it isn’t happening;
when someone is hurting
and you don’t know them
it is easy to switch off
from the image of them
as if the memory of them
was a creation of your imagining;
when you see something happening
and you know that you can do something to help,
when you believe that you can be a light
to guide someone out of a living hell,
when you see a chain
and you would give anything
to be that necessary missing link,
then do what feels the most natural to you
and use all that you feel
when you turn on your survivor instinct.