You are currently browsing the monthly archive for November 2010.

If there is one unwritten rule, if there is one constant in the universe,
it would have to be that the momentum of time, and life, never runs in reverse.
Things change; people move on; relationships grow, flourish; and sometimes fade;
and a heart once scarred, and a trust once broken, can never be remade.
Sometimes we all feel like we are ‘Indiana Jones’, trying to out-run a boulder;
and sometimes we feel as if we don’t fit into our own skin, until we are that much older.
‘Change’ can be a scary word for some, because it means that they must grow;
change can be something to run away from, because you just don’t want to let go.
Change is a transition, and what will come to pass next cannot always be predicted;
however, I believe that change is an ethos to life that should never be contradicted.
Change can be an opportunity, a revelation, a truly life-changing invitation,
a gleaming vessel to a new world just waiting for your embarkation.
Change is not always easy, change can sometimes be hard, painful and unwelcome;
but, sometimes, change is what you need- something that may never be outdone.

Everything happens for a reason;
everybody is born, lives, and dies, based on the changing of the season.
Every seemingly accidental meeting is based on the blueprint of destiny;
every decision, action, force in the universe, brought my parents together,
made their love for one another become one, and made me.

The love of my parents, who really do love one another for better, or for worse,
astounds me every time I see them together, and inspires me to break into verse.
My father David and my mother Bernadette
have such a beautiful connection, anyone would think they were singing a duet.
I am sure that every child who loves their parents would say this;
but my parents are the best- beacons of love, joy, elation, and breathtaking bliss.

My parents are not only amazing people, but they are also great teachers-
throughout my life they have taught me that the reason of life lies in all its features.
Even as a small child my parents blessed me with a love of music and sound-
songs, singers, musicians, and instruments, that can literally shake the ground:
from the songs of The Beatles, to the resonating Tubular Bells of Mike Oldfield-
my parents taught me that music can give rise to what lies buried, and what is concealed.

My parents are the be-all-and-end-all, creators, life and light-givers of my world;
my parents are the most special people I know, and the reason my hair used to be curled.
My parents are the smartest, the most articulate, funny, fascinating, people I know;
who make me see that to be happy in life you don’t need to live in a mansion, or a chateau.
My parents are my heroes; my parents are the reason that I love, laugh, and shed a tear;
my parents are the muse of my life, the reason for my being, the rhyme, and why I am here.

One name, one face, one body; two minds:
one of gravity, realism, distance, and time;
one of love, optimism, inspiration, and rhyme.
One born of the Earth- where North is up, and South is down-
where if you dive in too deep you are more than likely to drown.
One born of the stars- where planets dance to clockwork precision-
where there is more to life to be found than we could possibly envision.
One who smiles, cries; feels pain, joy, excitment, and rejection;
one who exists to be a beacon of hope; a lens, a truth of every complexion.
One who is a brother, a son, a friend, a lover, a confidant;
one who sees the epic poetry in every thought, action, feeling, and want.
One who thrives on energy, relationships; reciprocating love, and connection,
one whose muse is every masterpiece of life, art, opus, definition, and imperfection.
One who is and will always be the alter-ego, poet, man, one and the same,
Mark Hastings; but that is not who I am, that is only my name.

Eureka! Inspiration- the often depicted light-bulb moment in a cartoon.
Discovery, invention, the opus of a musician that originates with the whistling of a tune.
There is nothing like the biggest light-bulb in the sky to lift you up and make you feel alive-
the light of our day, the reason for our being: The Sun, the source that instills in us all to thrive.
When I was a child I was always fascinated by light and its rejuvenating properties,
I was always in awe of how light can energize, attract, and put everyone at their ease.
Even now, when I am illuminated by a light-bulb, or when I bask in the glow of a sunny day,
I am still invigorated, invited, and inspired by the radiance- enough so to be taken away!
The Sun instantly and deeply connects with the light within each and every one of us-
the source of all our power, that which we express artistically; that which we love, and discuss.
The World would be a much darker place if it were not for the gifts of the inspired few:
those who have raised up others, who have passed on but who still have an effect on you.
I cherish every moment within which I am inspired, amazed, enlightened, and intrigued;
I love the power of a great mystery, I love the energy of someone who is in another league.
Life is not always bound by our will, nor can every answer be found in the florets of a sunflower;
however, inspiration grows and can be found within- as can the source of all my power.

I live, therefore I love; I love, therefore I live;
but I must keep secret the identity of whom it is that I am in love with.
Love should be celebrated, championed, shouted aloud from the rooftops;
but I cannot speak of my love; because to Her, my words are like that of raindrops-
a lone voice in a cacophonic chorus of love and adoration-
making my words seem like that of a unknown tree falling silently in a forrest of isolation.
Can love still be called Love if it is felt, but remains unconfessed?
Then again: what is love? Is it really something that needs to be expressed?
I must love in silence, because the apple of my affection does not know who I am;
oh, she may know my name; but to Her I am just another adoring fan.
I wish it were not so, but this is who we both are-
it is as if I were the Earth, while She is a planet orbiting a distant star.
Love is a powerful, energizing, inspiring, enticing emotional state of being;
but, what if love were more than an emotion, what if it were another way of seeing?
When you love in silence, I believe that you gain a new and unique sense-
another way to perceive, describe, love, and express yourself, without any pretense.
That being said, I will continue to love, support, and be there for Her from afar;
and even if I no longer love in secret, She will always be my silent but guiding star.

The 1960s was an amazing decade, era, and time;
a period when the best of humanity inspired, pioneered, and began to shine.
Even though I did not live through the exciting, inspiring, sometimes frightening, 1960s,
it does not preclude me from feeling the optimism and the energy by way of reprise-
whether it be in art, fashion, music, nostalgia, or on TV in the phenomenal ‘Mad Men’;
young and old are re-embracing the 1960s, and I count myself among them.
The 1960s was a decade that redefined every aspect of human expectation and culture,
a golden-age when the world lifted up their eyes and dreamed of a bright and optimistic future.

The 1960s, however, was also a time of great anxiety, pain, and tragedy;
when, as dreams were being dreamed, events and emotions reached their perigee;
when wars were fought, men, women, and children, lost their lives;
and when new opinions were formed that brought about the downfall of old divides.

The 1960s is of interest to me because I have always dreamed of being there in 1969;
being there, or just watching live on TV, at the moment when humanity crossed a line;
being there when perhaps the most famous and important words ever spoken were defined:
“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
Every time I hear Neil Armstrong’s radio transmission my imagination immediately takes flight-
I imagine what my dad must have felt when he watched the moon landing in black and white;
I imagine being of the half a billion people who watched, became invested, and were overcome,
by the most momentous event in human history; the question of: what now? and what is yet to come?

If I had to pick a decade to be born in- apart from the 1580s-
it would have to be in this decade, this era, this time, the one and the only 1960s.
The 1960s was, and still is, a decade that informed and touched the lives of all of humanity;
a time when everyone on Earth was met with moments of joy, reinvention, and tranquility.
The 1960s was, and still is, a decade of style, substance, energy, and elation;
a decade of highs, and low’s; a decade of adventure, and curiosity; a decade of liberation.
The 1960s is a gift to us all who live, love, and breathe, the debt that cannot be repaid.
Oh, what it must have been like to live in this decade!

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