writing

My Poem ‘Skyscraper’

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

Even when I am low,
I am always looking up;
even on my worst day,
you can always find me sitting,
standing, walking, dreaming,
somewhere with hope in my heart,
a pen, and my notebook;
even behind dark clouds, I can see the sun;
even when my head is full of confusion,
I can still smile-
because I know that in my life I have The One.

The poet, the infinite,
the chameleon of caring and compassion;
the one I have been dreaming of,
even when I was a kid
and I was picturing the most beautiful person
there could ever be in my vivid imagination.

People like me are few and far between;
people who think and care as much as I do
hide for the most part in plain sight;
people like me are rarer now than they used to be;
people like me are capable of creating and emitting
an internal fire and light.

Children are constantly looking up at everything,
and everything to them is bigger, taller,
as high as the clouds in the sky;
to a child everything has depth and meaning to it-
a child is constantly asking the best
and the most important question there is- all day, every day:
why?

I guess that I have not yet fully grown up,
because I am still asking questions and searching for answers
even when I already know what I am going to find-
I personally hope I never grow up to be someone
who is just one shade of colour, and of one mind.

I walk through and I see beauty more times in one day
than I could ever remember, or say;
I see the potential of people who may be finding it hard
to pick a direction and find their way;
I embrace rituals, music, talent, intense love, passion,
and calls from people who are just like me,
and who advertise themselves to those who see them
for who they are, as if they were a walking and talking
advertisement in a newspaper;
I see magic; I see more;
I want to receive more;
I want to give more;
I want others to know
that so much about life is undeniably epic;
I want people to know that they can see
and experience heaven on Earth,
and to do that they only need to see, meet,
and know a beautiful and inspirational person,
or to have looked at the world, far, above, below,
from one of the world’s tallest skyscrapers.

My Poem ‘Being a writer’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , ,

Being a writer
is not something that you choose to be –
you are a writer
from the minute that you wake up in the morning;
you are a writer
when you are sitting down having a coffee;
you are a writer when you are working,
when you are drinking;
when everyone around you is a stranger,
and is living an amazing life,
but they have no idea.

I am a writer,
because to me writing, especially poetry,
is my paradise;
I am a writer
for the same reason a honeybee is a honeybee;
I am a writer,
because when I look at the world,
and I see all that I do,
I need to capture the infinite universe
that fills my eyes.

Being a writer
is like being a god of your own unique world;
being a writer
is something that anyone can be –
man, or woman; boy, or girl;
being a writer
is something that comes natural to some,
but for others they require practice;
being a writer
is having the gift to be able
to tell the world about yourself
in under a minute,
and to be able to leap to a whole other world,
and to not even have to use your feet.

Being a writer is a great adventure;
being a writer can set you apart;
being a writer –
using a pen and paper, a computer,
or a typewriter, is setting your spirit afire,
and sharing your passion and desire;
being a writer is something you always are,
because being a writer is in your heart.

My Poem ‘Did’

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

There is a beautiful sunset outside my window,
I am listening to Ed Sheeran on my iPod at the moment
to give my creative spark the get-up-and-go.

I have been writing since I woke up this morning,
and my right shoulder is literally aching;
I am about to have something to eat,
but I just want to write down in words
the things I am proud of,
and the things I wish I never did.

I am proud of myself
for using my self-taught gift of expression,
and with the help of a great friend of mine
getting two books of my poems published-
the support, the love, the miracle
to be able to share my words with the world,
in the way I always wanted,
is beyond anything that I could ever have wished.

When I was a kid I was a movie-loving boy
who made up his own stories for fun;
now I am a 33 year-old poet,
who still loves films,
and who goes to the cinema as often as I can.
When I was growing up I wanted to be many things
when I eventually became a man;
but now that I am standing tall, and looking back,
I am thinking that my life
might have been easier
if I had had some kind of life-plan;
I thought I would have been married,
and had kids by now-
at least that was my boyhood, adult-arrival, expectation;
however, a few things happened along the way
that were not part of anyone’s plan-
and those are what I see looking back at me
every day in my own reflection.

I hope there comes a day
when I can honestly say
that who I am now is who I want to be;
I hope there is a day when I can say
“this is what I have been dreaming at night about”,
and then waking up and turning it into poetry;
I hope one day I will be able to say to my own kids,
that I don’t regret the things I have done,
and if I had the time to do over again
I would still do all that I did.