understanding

My Poem “The Forbidden”

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

The draw of the forbidden…
the urge to explore
the places where very few
people have been before…
the instinct to reveal the truth
of that which is hidden,
the call of the wild
that has compelled many people
to seek out, to feel,
and to capture the energy
and the spirit that some things
naturally emanate –
symbolized in many stories
as being an apple, a chalice, a ring,
a fountain, a plant, a monolith,
a message left for others to find
so that they may experience
profound revelations that will
fundamentally change the way
that they see the world,
as well as change how they see themselves,
are as prevalent in the tales
that humanity has been telling itself
since the beginning of language
and the start of our path of discovering
who we are and what we are
in the grand scheme of universal understanding.

It is the quest of the forbidden that gives
a journey into the unknown its potency…
it is the question of what lies beyond
all the maps that have been drawn
that has attracted all the explorers
that have ever been born…
it is the danger of a forbidden vortex
that storm-chasers lust to race towards
that awakens within them
the same deep longing to push the envelope
of what is possible that precludes
so many people from being able
to silence the voice inside them
that tells them loud and clear
to never decline an opportunity
to take a bite out of
the fruit of the forbidden,
to experience what it takes like,
and to see where it takes you.

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My Poem “Appreciation”

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

We don’t always appreciate something
when we first see them,
we don’t always appreciate someone
when we first meet them,
we don’t always appreciate what
something means when
it is first given to us,
we don’t always appreciate
what someone does for us,
until we witness the work,
the sacrifice, the effort that someone
might have had to put into something
so that people can keep living their lives
and keep doing what they like to do –
because, most of the time, in this life
most people are oblivious to
the other sides of life
that exist behind curtains, walls,
doors, barriers, even underground,
that keep the wheels of society turning…
nothing happens without first
putting some effort into something.

Everything comes from something,
something comes from someone,
someone comes from something
than someone does –
because that is the cycle of life,
that is the process of life…
life on Earth is a potent mixture
of chemistry, physics, biology,
psychology, origin, struggle,
discovery, knowledge, adaptability,
innovation, strength of spirit,
and it should be a choice
and a willingness
to want to better yourself
and make the world better for your actions.

Most people don’t appreciate
something until they
no longer have it,
and the people that
understand and appreciate
what they have should know
how lucky they are
to have what they have
and they shouldn’t wish
they had what someone else has.

Things happen for a reason –
even the things that
we wish didn’t have to happen…
most things and most people
follow a pattern of behavior
that they find hard to break free of
because when they are on
the same path that they know so well
and they might not often think about
anything else or anyone else other than
the result and the reward that they are going
to receive when they reach the end
of their current cycle of repetition.

Very few people actually know
or ever ask where, when, and how
something appeared before their eyes
to their overwhelming delight –
because no one is capable
of being witness to every step of the way,
nor every chapter of the story,
of how something found itself transitioning
from being something literal
into being something physical;
however, some people do ask themselves why
things are the way that they are,
and when they do they often times
they are unknowingly opening doors
to all the other worlds that exist on Earth
that surround us all,
and when some people step through
those doors and they take a specific journey
to a world and a life
that is so close but which feels so far away,
people can come to attain
an understanding about things,
about life, about people, about nature,
and gain a wider, deeper, richer,
and a more respectful appreciation
about what goes into making
the life that we see every day
and at the same time the same life that
we may find that we do not really know.

My Poem “It’s not rocket science”

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

Some things – like poetry, art,
biology, chemistry – can be easy
if you possess the right key,
that fits the right lock,
at the right time,
to open the right gateway
to the way of understanding
that you need to comprehend what you find…
some things – like being a parent –
can seem easy when seen from far away;
however, the closer that you get to anything
the more that you discover that there are
more constantly moving parts
that need to be juggled
than can be observed with an observers eye…
some things seem so simple,
but at their heart they are more
complicated, chaotic, unpredictable,
and uncontrollable than can be put into words…
the sun rising in the sky every morning,
the moon orbiting the Earth,
the Earth orbiting the sun –
things that repeat day after day,
things that we believe we understand
and have an answer for,
but which are far from
as simplistic as they appear…
even a simple magic trick
takes many instances of practice
by a magician to make them seem effortless…
even the ability to stand up straight
and not fall over is something
that most people take for granted…
even the fact that we have clean air to breathe,
sunlight to brighten our day,
trees and flowers growing all around us…
even the fact that there are
insanely complicated cycles, systems,
and forms of life – like humanity –
is proof positive that sometimes
the things that appear so perfect
take time, perseverance, and patience…
the blue sky above, the epic peaks of mountains
that tower, which are constant draws
to adventurers and explorers to conquer,
the oceans of life that are the home
of some of the most diverse and amazing
forms of curiosity known to man,
space, the stars of the night-sky –
some things, especially the simplest of things,
are the most complicated of things;
however, it isn’t until you dig deeper
into what makes something what it is
that you realize that every thing
sings its own multi-layered song –
even silence – and everything is complex,
even it isn’t rocket science.

Listen to My Poem ‘It’s not rocket science’ by Mark The Poet on #SoundCloud

My Poem “Another Insight Into Life”

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

I often think about the fact
that there are other worlds
out there in the universe
with their own future,
their own present, their own past…
I often wonder, as I marvel at
the human endeavors that take place
to land on another planet,
what stories await to be unearthed
and retold about the who, the what,
and the where of an alien place
that is also our celestial-neighbor…
I often wonder about our connections
to the other planets of our solar system,
and why the myriad planets, moons,
comets, and asteroids call out to us
to visit them and understand them…
I often wonder whether it is the universal
human compulsion to explore the unknown
and learn as much as we can about what
we don’t understand that compels us
to keep staring up at the night-sky
and wanting to reach out and touch
and put our footprints into the soil
of a world unlike our own…
throughout my life I have often dreamed
about escaping the gravity that holds me
to this spinning sphere of rock,
water, life, and hope –
but even if I never get the chance to do so
in my life-time I remain optimistic
that within the life-span of the next generation
children will know more about the universe
than any era of human history ever has before…
I often share the belief that we yearn
to return to the stars, because that is where
all life came from long ago –
but the best thing about wondering
what lies elsewhere in the universe,
and about where all life came from,
is that, at this point, nobody knows
the answers to the fundamental questions
of existence, and in my opinion
we as a species, and as a planet,
have only just begun to scratch the surface
in our discovery of an insight
into what gives the light of existence
its spark of life.

My Poem ‘Intro’

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

An entrance, an introduction,
an opening, a beginning…
where to begin is seldom an option,
what to do when you start something
is like being a knight
standing nose-to-nose
with a fire-breathing dragon…
most of the time
we enter something
in the middle of a story –
we mostly never come into something
at the very beginning,
nor at the absolute end –
however, we are always equipped
with all that we need
when we first enter into the world,
and it is only as time goes by
do we learn and pick up
the implements and the defenses
that we require to save us
from getting struck down
or devastatingly hurt.

Everybody’s life is an epic adventure.
In times gone by,
heroes heard the calling
that they had been waiting for all their lives
as if it were as distinctive and alluring
as that of the call of a song-bird.
Whether a cowboy or an outlaw
in the old-west of America,
or an astronaut on the cusp
of the final frontier,
the boundless unknown of a wild open space
holds the potential
of fulfilling a life and a dream come true
that constantly brings a smile to the face
of those who live for the spark
that dwells where the land leaves no trace.

Most people are first exposed
to other worlds through stories;
most people first feel
the touch of the divine
when the veil of heaven
falls right in front of them;
most people can only believe
what they can see;
most people are not truly
awake to the world
until they have been fully awoken.

The best of things
begin with an insatiable sound:
a beat, a melody, a voice, a keystroke –
the contact of two separate things
connecting and intertwining;
there is nothing as jaw-dropping
as seeing a lightning-storm happening
in the dark clouds above
that looks so beyond understanding
and like something that only God
could be the reason for,
because it is so breathtaking;
the first things of anything
are always the ingredients
and the building-blocks that will grow
like the snowflakes that settle
and cover a mountain-top with snow.
You may be young,
you may be old,
you may think that you know
all that there is to know –
but, believe me,
everything that has happened up to you
until now was nothing but the intro.

My Poem ‘Psychic Arithmetic’

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

We all know our own minds,
but other people see more of us
than we do;
we may spend all of our time
with ourselves,
but we do not see
all the things that we do;
we may all know our own
personal likes and dislikes,
but we may not all be familiar
with all of our routines;
we all may look in the mirror,
but it is other people
who see the face that constantly changes.

By acting on instinct
we all can sometimes
take our own actions for granted;
by repeating the same tasks for a while
we can find it hard to imagine
a life that is not already
a picture and a memory in our own head;
cycles and predictive patterns
are important to life on our planet;
everybody has their preferences:
what they like to drink?
what they like to eat?
what they like like to listen to,
and what they like to watch?
Some people just do not “feel right”
if they do not keep on their
preferred side of their own bed.

Some people just know us;
some people can just read us;
some people are just like an open book;
some people can tell the story
of who they are from a single look;
some people constantly analyze;
some people speak as well see with their eyes;
some people love us – no matter how predictable
and bound by our own insecurities,
obsessions and compulsions we are;
some people think that when they see us
we shine like a star;
some people are so incredibly psychic
that their gift can be deceptive;
some people teach us every day
that there is more to learn
about all forms of nature
just by looking, observing,
understanding and deciphering
the signs and mimicking the techniques
used by the best of those schooled
in the performance of psychic arithmetic.

My Poem ‘Sympatico’

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

It truly is good to share;
it truly is great to communicate;
it truly is epic to marvel at the most beautiful,
as you look, stop, revel, and stare;
it truly is miraculous to find someone,
and to know someone,
who from minute one
you instantly feel that they are
your long-lost soulmate.

Associations bind the planet;
relationships keep the heart of the world beating;
inside everybody is a secret poet;
there is no such thing
as an accidental or chance meeting.

The moment that you make a friend
you create ripples in their life,
and they create waves in yours;
the moment that you establish a rhythm with someone
you can always count on what drew you to them
in the first place, because to you
they are like a beautiful sand-covered beach shore;
when someone first makes you smile,
when someone makes you laugh for the first time,
there is an instant and growing synergy
and an energy that becomes spectacular
and breathtaking – like the scenery of a country mile;
and without having to try
there is a melding together
of hearts and minds.

True understanding does not always come from explaining,
true learning mostly comes from interacting and practicing;
true love for someone which is also mutual
is something that you really and truly just know;
the true pull of the universe
that holds everything together
is as mysterious as dark matter,
it is as beautiful and as shining as the stars –
and whether you realize it at all,
that which is the most important of them all in life
is to feel, to understand, to cherish,
and to realize that life is meant to be lived,
and as long as you have life
you have it all.

My Poem ‘Hard Rain’

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

It’s never too late
to learn something new;
it’s never going to be the case
that you are going to know
everything about everyone;
it is at times when you are not
expecting anything to come to light
that you invariably learn something
you never knew;
it’s never too late to ask questions
and get answers that make your thoughts
just want to run and run.

Music has always been important to me,
and to my family, for as long as I can remember,
since long before I was even born;
music has always had the key
to unlock the door into our soul;
however, it wasn’t until just recently
that I learned from my Dad
that he had once been a ‘roadie’
in the 1970’s for a rock-band,
and I am still enthralled and in awe
because (yet again) my Dad has surprised me
with an interesting and inspiring insight into him
which I love to learn and hear stories
told to me about –
because, to me, it just makes my Dad even more cool.

Hearing my Dad tell me how he used to help
transport and set up the equipment
of the band ‘Hard Rain’ –
a group that I had never heard of before –
I was inspired within seconds;
hearing my Dad reflect and remember
times that he enjoyed, as always,
brought a smile to my face
and made me feel emotions
that no one else could possibly understand.

As a child, I remember us as a family
having musical instruments around us:
a recorder, a keyboard, an organ,
an electric-guitar, an acoustic-guitar,
that my Dad used to play and strum
a song and a tune exquisitely with –
even now, my Dad knows more songs
and can sing every word of his favourite band,
‘The Beatles’, and he knows the deep meaning
within those magical lyrics,
and he has been moved by them
on more than one occasion – as have I –
and each song, and each piece of music,
I know when I hear them now,
are nothing short of amazing and incredible poetry.

I have always wanted to play an instrument,
write a song, come up with a melody,
bring my words and my inner music to life,
so that the whole world can hear it;
I have always wanted to take my poetry
and make my imagination and words
shine like no other poet;
I have always wanted to give something
back to people, and the world,
for reasons that I can’t fully explain;
I have always been someone
with a great eye and a great ear,
and, to me, seeing and hearing
as much as can be seen and heard
is a gift we are all born with –
and if you are someone creative,
or if you are someone who just
wants to be a part of something in some way,
then I can honestly say
that I too am there with you
in that want to be touched and changed,
and to remain connected to,
what makes my heart beat so long and so thunderous
as the music of hard rain.

My Poem ‘3/14/15’

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

Today is the 14th of March;
today feels like a Sunday,
however it is in fact a Saturday;
today feels like, in some way,
I have stepped out of the dark;
and today is also a great day,
because today is my Mum and Dad’s Anniversary –
and today, more than any other,
I am reminded about how my parents
absolutely love each other in every way.
Today is also ‘International Pi Day’ –
a day in which some people celebrate
the mathematical constant
that has no discernible end;
and, as I feel change happening all around me,
I am also reminded of the unchanging constants
in my life – namely my family:
on whom, I know I can always depend.

I have many constants in my life:
hope, poetry, music, optimism,
memory, thought, family, connections –
and when I feel them and I understand them
for what they are and for what they mean to me,
nothing else matters;
the pain of the past fades away,
and just being thankful for what I do have
always keeps the wolf, that sometimes visits me
at all times of the night or day, at bay.

Today feels like the perfect day
to hold on tight to the best thing in my life;
today feels like I am understanding something profound
with the wonderful gifts of hindsight, and foresight.
My heart feels brand new;
I am breathing fresh air now
that makes me feel light-headed –
as if I were experiencing high-altitude hypoxia
on top of a mountain;
my mind is reaching out into the big blue;
I am changing again;
I feel like I have just woken up
from an interesting dream, and come full-circle;
and today is the 14th of March, 2015.

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My Poem ‘Unforgettable Sixth Avenue’

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

They don’t understand;
how could they?
Everything that happened,
everything that I wrote,
happened to me,
and I wrote it in my words
and from my perspective;
how could anyone else understand
what it was like to go through what I went through,
if they were not there at the time,
if they did not feel how I felt in the moment;
people tell that they like what I write,
but I wonder what they actually think,
what they imagine when they read something of mine,
and I wonder if anyone will ever be able
to truly be of the same mind as me.

I remember walking the streets of New York City,
like it was yesterday –
in my mind, and in my heart, I am still there,
and I want to be there:
I can still hear the sounds,
I can still taste the air,
I can still see the lights of Broadway at night,
I can still remember the moment I was found,
I can still go back there anytime of the day
in my imagination and daydream
even the smallest of details
that I still remember and love to this day,
as I will everyday.

I treasure my memories,
and I replay the best and the brightest of my life
as often as I can;
I miss people, places, times,
that will always be special to me,
more than anyone could imagine;
I relive my youth,
because those years I never want to lose;
I listen to the songs that I remember hearing
on the radio as a child, and I understand them
and what they were trying to say to me then,
now more than I ever knew.

My heart has been open wide since the day I was born;
every day of my life,
something unforgettable has happened to me,
and I remember so much
I wonder if there is anyone else
who loves being alive
and remembering their experiences as much as I do;
even now, I can easily flashback
to the most perfect day of my life,
to the night when I wrote my first poem,
or to the moment when I remember
standing on the street corner
on the “Avenue of the Americas”,
on a beautiful September afternoon,
in Manhattan, in New York City,
and being in awe of the entire world
and the gifts of life
that I can still see happening right this second,
on Sixth Avenue.

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