In scripted dialogue
and camera click bait
is this our love story
or can heaven wait?
in the dreams of writers
will love be fore filled
if we become fighters
Will fate yield?
and will the type writer give us that happy ending
as the stage is set and then completed
Will we kiss and get married and die together or will we pretend
That love is merely written in our stars or will we have retreated
from that notion
that can be grown only come from a story we tell ourselves about each other
and that love and devotion
Is merely a set of complex conditions that come from one emotion.
When did our yearning to protect and serve
and keep people safe?
turn into rage and wanting danger?
We are no stranger to tragedy
avidly wrestling with our desire for violence
was it taught by society and our father, are they keeping silent?
Soldiers growing colder each day
to the god of man we pray
to teach us a better way.
Anger our, “man up” emotion
lost in its devotion
we need different role models action man won’t cut it.
As we destroy ourselves fighting and wrestling with the anger inside
as we collide with the alternate worlds we hide
inside the potential we have
and are told to bite at ourselves
as “man up” is the only thing we hear
we disappear from the innocence
we held dear
the blood stained tear
gives way more often to anger and fear.
If you call someone rubbish or bad enough times they will act out their label. Sometimes we need to go beyond the labels of good and evil to show love to people true love.
Church bell blues
Christian old news
Saviour syndrome old tech
Love in heart of the wild
A sky cannot be outsourced or out styled
It has millions of vistas and views
I will never be old news
We are the sky
We will never die
Or sink into religious why’s
Who is Daniel Hooks?
Neither a robber or a crook
Just a man who looks
Into the depths
like the mind who crept into a unfinished novel
I keep your secrets in my hovel.
A humorous poem about being a right royal pain.
Surrounded by opportunities
Which have been given
Laid at my feet but I need to be forgiven
Because I burn them as offerings
To my self for filling prophecy of pain
insane, I wonder whether I will receive them again
the world draws out the worst in me
If I am surrounded by arseholes cursing me
then won’t I can’t just give in.
Or is my life just a sin?
A tall tale of talent for sale
I move like a snail
when I should hunt like a bear
I stare at advertisers glare
at posters the only person who can change my life is me
I alone hold the key
But in the mirror the reflection I see
Is taunting the shy retiring me
and he keep my status quo
By keep taking the punches low
If I was boxer I be rocky
On the ropes
An eloquent man but also a joke…
I hide behind layers of onion like skin
You can’t see my soul, what is within?
I am a fragment of the universe
You will never realise my true worth
All the words I mean to say and have said
the pages I have written the poet bleeds,ink I have bled
read the words I have written
Explore the meaning and be smitten
Look within the cage of my soul
Lightening strikes but my inspiration is out of control
The artist in me yearns for grandeur
I want you to see my muse and understand her
Wisdom and strength through love.
The push and shove
of life gets in the way
But I define the path from which I don’t stray.