Lonely people

Only people 

with hidden sparks of divinity

looking into the mirror 

getting shivers 

and quivers 

Looking for love but love doesn’t deliver

another endeavour 

feat of the gods 

the odds 

and ends of messages 

we send 

The revolving door

of lives 

when will hope truly arrive 

karma 

another charmer 

but a bell chimes

and it alarms us

we are living fast food lives

Our souls the only thing 

that isn’t disposable 

water hoses us down 

but we can’t get to the deep

conversations

we permanently seek to leave words 

of comfort even if they are lies 

and we surrounded by people 

with mole like eyes.

Forever lonely only children 

A daydreamer or ADD sufferer

Tune out switch off 

Disassociate cough

wheeze

Run off pace never be free

only in daydreams

only in dreams 

only in nightmares 

and screams

Empathy searching for threats

which threaten you

answer in delusions cruel 

criticise your attention span

you’re thick often man!

you don’t understand the problem

but any happiness we’ve robbed you of

every piece of joy

ever since you were a little boy

your mum was stressed

screaming unavailable with hardly any hugs to bless

your Dad a big brother lost

the price of care and all it cost

Never mind you carry on but the exits 

Been hexed 

you reach out but you’re vexed

No one can love you 

it burns through your life 

like a candle slowly waxing burning away

into the terrible unconscious unconfident ways

which have haunted you 

anxiety insanity no one cares they are fighting their own battles with despair.

Maslow’s pyramid

Ensnared enslaved 

by not having our needs met.

A modern day trap, a net

Their self efficacy built upon the billions 

who will never have their needs addressed 

just giving them their trauma and stress

No room for karma 

just workers enslaved by big pharma

and tech 

living on the streets or renting 

Never venting 

never getting to the top

just growing rich peoples crops 

the pyramid weighs us down 

the weight of a rich persons crown

who’s only thoughts get activated and actualised 

while bullying billions of lives.

we cannot reach the top

too many distractions and traps

Life is unfair it has no map.

Maslow’s pyramid or is it a mountain to climb

life is unfair this poem shows the reason and rhyme.

The Throwaway poet

A Throwaway poet

With throwaway poems 

trying to sow seeds of change

to rearrange 

Your thoughts and life

My rhymes are tight

but like paper I recycle ideas 

put them in new ways 

to pave the roads to futures unseen

where we can dream

I am a poet put my poetry in the bin 

read once but change within

come back and memorise my verse.

I am the vessel for my pen

even when

you can’t see me I am philosophising

comprising 

of revolutionary action

but maybe I am too much of a distraction 

to make you do any action

or you are too distracted 

with your contract

your job

To bother with Dan

I am just a man

who thinks he can write poetry 

so throw my digital poems in your recycling bin

and letter the paper burn

or compost

I am you and all you have lost

I am the pages 

the war you wage

from this desperate stage

In this level of the game

you can throw me away but you will know my name.

Killed by a million insensitive words

Words go deep

they creep into my scars and wounds

I cannot tell that you meant it or not

or even realise the damage you cause

I know I am flawed 

But sometimes you love me open mouthed with the things that come from your jaw 

they are too raw.

If you strangle me it would be cleaner 

but your words are meaner

do you mean what you say?

Your words spray 

Cut like a split artery 

hurt people hurt people 

but sometimes evil is insensitivity

callous chaos 

I cry 

and want to die 

emotion abuse

obtuse 

and won’t relent 

I can’t vent or your words will grow worse 

and more vicious 

you and I are from different worlds 

and I can tell

that you believe I sometimes belong in hell.

This life

This life chaotic 

hypnotic 

energy rushes 

gushes all around me

A sea of endless particles of pain 

I look for the sunshine within the rain

the rainbows light

all fight leaves me

but I won’t give into its spite

the hate breathes

makes you believe 

In humanities downfall

It’s a tall order

living this life in the borders of strife 

where there’s no passport to any heaven 

or any country in that region 

the engine

the cogs of the machine

have us enslaved

even lucifer when he stood up to god

was thrown down and fell

into hell.

This life is pernicious cruel and harsh

most kindness is given by hard graft

and the silence is sometimes the only thing 

that makes us less daft 

for in speaking harsh words are sprayed 

like bullets across the page

or in our ears 

giving us fear and tears 

that scar our sanity 

in this reality 

where we study someone’s psyche 

but not its creator the hater who crafted their malice and spite

and if we don’t realise that they in turn were also formed from people who didn’t always give a fuck 

and told them their so called inner truth

Just to toughen them up,

and yet they didn’t water them with love

or feed them with grace

they deliberately chastised their minds

with words that were unkind

just to make them their clones

the worker unquestioning drones 

You shouldn’t base your life

on the ideals and ideas 

of people who gave way to fears 

and insecurities

give your life to making yourself you

a loving kind person a shining beacon a colourful hue.

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

You are significant

Never forget your significance

in this world that will try to humble you

if it can,

to just being a woman or a man

you were born from stars

woven into your skin

you mind creates within

a membrane of tissue

of bone and brain

of lightning conductive atoms

love and that is where hope begins and never ends

I am you and you are me the message I try to send.

We are the universe

from heathens of no faith

to spiritual walkers and talkers

Of revolution and not of the safe

sages and fools

but each with the tools to light flames

and never be tamed

don’t let the fire wane

or burn out

don’t give way to doubt

we are god

hidden forces might try to hold us back

but we are the crack of light

in the shadows

forcing its way through

fear can’t hold us back

love is a brighter coloured hue.

When the ink drys up

When the ink drys up

And the writer words go missing

who’s going to talk about the two lovers kissing

in songs and poetry

who’s going to write the sonnets the verses

who’s going to tell tales that are fully immersive

ancient lands of fiction

A thriller that’s addictive

when the ink dries

will we find

the stories in our own time…

My third face(the one I never show)

This poem was written from the prompt of a Japanese proverb

That we all have three masks

One to the world

One to friends family

One when we are alone

This is one I wear when I am alone

Angry and aggressive

for justice and justification

in this suffocation

In this isolation.

Powerful, beautiful and strong

Among no one

I bleed the some of my cause

and all my flaws

But angel or demon I open doors

locked

Gun cocked

and ready to fire

Let’s go to the wire

and win

I escape into the mask within

that I do not show

I grow into a man with wings

to fly on the winds

of change

I rearrange

The strange flow of my words

the poet grasps at the meaning

he’s dreaming…