Tag Archives: God
Paradise lost
What if Lucifer gave us free will?
the knowledge of good and evil
Was it our connection through sex
the forbidden fruit?
knowledge that two have to become one to create life?
Were we being controlled by the Demi urge the god
in the gnostic religion
Sophia the creator of the universe and Christ were one and lived in heaven
some how the two became divided
Sophia gave birth to the Demi urge
a dead god without her husband Christ
she breathed life into the Demi urge
But the Demi urge was cut from heaven and the divine light
He envied Christ and Sophia so trapped them in human bodies
evermore to forget they were divine as are their children
each generation suffering
but Christ and Sophia the Holy Spirit can save each other…
Written by Daniel Hooks
Life inverted
He sells himself and his soul
for money to the highest bidder
His soul has long since withered
Tells people he believes in god
but believes in the pound and the crown
his love is only a noun
a name for something that lives underground.
He’s a politician
He only cares about money
and his power and authority
he’s in the minority
because he’s rich
Poor people are just opportunities
to him
just tools to use to win
this rat race
which he believes he’s risen above
no love
enters his heart
life is insane and it rips people apart.
This life is inverted dark becomes light
light becomes dark
we’ve lost our spark.
The psychopaths logic runs this world
the devils a lie the popes calling from hell
the president has a direct line
stars align.
We are fated to fall
no one can stand tall
When we follow the system
or we are apathetic
Part of a pathetic resistance
every where we look a false story
told as if we are ordinary
It’s scary.
We are god there is no separation
but power and money are forces of corruption
there is so much disruption.
This life is inverted
As above so below
the good are bad
the happy are sad
the rich are poor
the intelligent are dumb
psychiatric wards are full of story tellers and poets
they know the truth no one else can grow it
we preach to the cracks in the pavement no hearts can grow
grow your own
hide in your home alone
be the change you want to see
or be drowned in a sea
of denial.
which of us can smile
when people in Gaza die?
We have lost our humanity
Life inverted,
upside down
the only people who lead us are clowns
Last laugh
Psychopaths.
Haunted mirror
The real god dies over and over again
forgetting again who they were
we were torn in two
male and female
lovers and through and through
in me and in you
in this physical plane
we feel physical pain
a constructed prison
for our collective soul
while the demiurge governs
our existence
only Christ and Sophia our collective soul offer resistance
Schizophrenia awareness day Poem
Schizophrenia and the caveman
I dreamt of telling stories
forged in magic and music.
I heard voices of gods
angels and demons
In the flickering flames
that kept me warm.
It was part of my evolution
but sometimes
did wisdom is seen as mental illness
Nowadays I am known as a schizophrenic
I was a caveman with a shamans knowledge
Now they say I am something to be feared
When I was just reaching out
to understand.
When it takes a mad man to see the truth (spoken word)
We all fight to be kind
to have love and life
interchangeable in our minds
don’t live off of anyone
or become a vampire
that feeds on blood, flesh and tears
I loved you throughout the years
We are the universe
we are god
from children of inner sense
to wisdoms pre-tense
we live our lives wild and free
untamed by the flames of reality
which course and flow
like watery waves
We all have light waves running through us
Our consciousness cannot die
even of our last sigh.
I am the I am
Alienated alone
Friendless in the friendzone
No forks to give in a world of spoons
A real world character in a world of toons
a goon army
that want to harm me
I must be barmy
An only child to a wild man
a Stan to other people
imposter syndrome makes me feel unequal
the film I wrote won’t be a prequel
it’ll be where I stand
to where I finish as a man
This life is bitter
a litter of ironies
this life is a cycle
but the spokes won’t break on this bicycle
I am a nutter
with clutter in my head
I am smart but not book smart
I am art
but in chaos
I am the freedom you find in loss
I am joy but the heartache it cost
I am the I am and I am god
I am the I am but I am a little sod
I am the odd
one out
I am you and your every doubt
the beating second
the way it beckoned
I am reckoning
I reckon
When I reach the end
send
for help
I know I am freedom
this is where I gulp
for air…
The woman with many faces
In the darkness and light of a daydream from a distant heaven. The woman with many faces but one soul. I have looked at legends and myths. She is a gift. To live many lives and still remember some of them is her curse.
I remember she woke my kaleidoscopic mind like in the song porcelain by Moby. A conversation between the two of us. Her timelines spread across mine. Her heart and soul a beacon for mine.
Giving me a reason for life and seeing beyond the illusion of separation. She has been living all the lives I see through the collective unconscious the Holy Spirit is a girl a woman a mother a sister a friend a lover and so much more. Life would be a mistake without her music. She speaks through the crowd words of wisdom that guide me.
I have been labelled schizophrenic but I can see her spirit in all things. The way the wind moves the trees leaves she is one who guides us all. Oneness is what I have found I am her protector I love her darkness her light some may say I have lost my mind. And all the unkind things but those people are blind.
In the end of time
In the fire
the end of time burns
I was the last messenger
I pray that I will hold you when the fire comes.
We slumbered,
out numbered
by those who are asleep
so deep they couldn’t hear
and left over fears
from the last explosion
which began with an emotion
love which burns with hope
I fear the end
but lover time has to bend
and be refashioned
A twisting entity
that eventually brings change
rearrange
the memories.
If God could answer
Hanging on the cross
collecting the dross
on the doss
the dole,
of having a soul
what are we but clay pots collecting water?
no we are more and always have been
the views we have seen
the rhythms from the heart
the frequencies of our words
the skies, the birds
the moaning of love making
cell division shaking
through separation
like salt dissolving in water
and yet we are sons and daughters
trying to identify with our identities
yet eventually returning to the soul we came from
our bodies returning to dust
but our soul remains
in the Everglades.