The mask

The mask

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.

Days of austerity

These are the days where you’d sell your own mother to get by
Austerity a cancer that causes us to die
Everyone working for themselves
Just to afford to buy cigarettes and alcohol from shop shelves
We have no time for those who lose life’s game
They are nameless and die in pain
For being poor is a disability in it self
Wealth is freedom and stealth
To hide your bank accounts in tax havens
You found your heaven
Look away all you gamblers who bank on a chain of lucky sevens
You’ll be ruined like cheques in the rain
We are lost, we cannot change
For we are all fighting for small change
and you don’t have a twenty pence to your name…

ladies Walk

ladies walk on hampshire cultural trust website

Ladies walk by Daniel Hooks

Walking through greenery
Either side
Of a path
Panoramic vision of Andover town
It’s hard to grasp
That I walked here as a child in a school class
With so many questions
the unusual questions children often ask
Now a man knitted together with reason
and a somewhat logical mind
But always we are out of step with time.
I came through here also on that fateful day when I’d lost my mind
Overcome with sadness that I couldn’t leave behind
I nearly did it, I nearly jumped
Off the bridge which stands in the middle
Another ghost ,another suicide
Another tragedy ,another ended waking dream
An ending all too soon…
But I resolved to face my problems
My friend Chris thought I was going to jump
But though the lump in my throat was massive
My soul rode the storm inside my head
Because to be alive is a wonder
Everyday something to learn
And though hot tears may make eyes sore
I will never take anything for granted
Life is what you make it
And it will never be a chore.

Daniel Hooks
Inspired by Ladies Walk, Andover

 

What is more powerful than a mother’s love

They will bow to your beauty
But they will miss your brilliance
They will worship your curves
But they will curse others
to see only that which they say is skin deep.
You will weep for your wisdom
The fire in your heart
In your veins
It pains me to see you hidden or vilified
Within his story
You are doomed to be perceived as second fiddle
But you gave birth to this universe and you are the riddle
Sophia wisdom is knowledge and power
it is sour milk to men
and when they drink it they cry
For women make this universe
and men who hurt you die
But you hold my cards
and power
and the watcher I have become sits and waits
Watching you hour by hour
Love and wisdom flow
from streams which flow underground
But women who are powerful
Must know that they can change the flow
and sound out
for what is more powerful than a mothers love?

On the foundation of words

On the foundation of words
We build undeterred
Some need excavation
To gain an explanation
To see their true meaning
Or are we dreaming?
Some words tell fables
Some words are negative labels
We are building on these words
It’s a bit absurd
For what do they really mean?
When one person describes so differently to another
We can build and break people with the words we choose
Give a voice to the voiceless or abuse
A turn of phrase and rhetorical question
Just a suggestion
Be careful which ones you use…

The cycle

This cell becomes division
an idea a split a incision
a night and a day
Black and white
But in this division
We can see, we can envision
Identity pouring forth
The tiny flame
Of a name…

This tree becomes a seed
It moves it bleeds and breaks
a part of itself to move forward
and yet it is not how it started out
however it doesn’t lose it self to doubt
We branch out wards like this family tree

This fire becomes a spark
It lights another flame
Who could tell it from the fire
and yet it has its own desires

The human becomes a egg
Hatching catching its mothers eyes
One day it will be fully grown
Will it still feel the sting of being alone?

This ocean becomes a drop
A drop that drips from a leaf
A raindrop that settles on the ground
In the cycle of Gaia
Repeating on and on
We are not separate
We move on and on..