Her gardner’s hands

Time may pick her locks

moths eat her frocks

and her splendid looks may fade

but she will still hold my heart

like the spark of her voice

hangs like an echo in the Everglades

in Elysium fields her flowers grow

Only the roses know

the gardeners hands

we nurture the voice we want to hear

even if it is the one we fear

we grow all of what we know

I loved her so

but I was fearful of losing

the ghost of her out of my head.

For if I lose her voices dulcet tone

I will be truly left alone…

Clown huntress

The circus mirrors gives her the shivers

Her lips begin to quiver

She hates clowns

and her frown

turns into bestial snarl.

her cheeks flash red

all she can think of is blood instead

and meat

Which she wants to eat

as her hairs stand on end

and are caught by electric instincts

her teeth become sharp and canine

and eyes shine an unnatural shade

as her body begins to rearrange

her spine tingles

her coccyx sprouting out of behind

A now wagging tail

Her feet bursting through her dainty shoes

her arms begin to flail

she is in shock but somehow it feels right

those clowns will get it

they will not live to regret it

growling at the mirror at her reflection

her skirt tearing at the seams

full moon screams turning into growls

then a howl

As her body is exposed

this is what the crystal ball

and fortune teller said

“when the moon becomes blood red

you will see what you are in the distorted mirrors and be fed”

As she smashes the mirror

drool dripping from her tongue and teeth

the werewolf released

from her human cage

to rage against those foolish clowns.

Centrefold

Are you as warm and inviting as your picture?

your eyes inciting, emotion

yet a photo is cold to touch

as offers so little, not as much

as a warm hand

and a offer to understand.

You demand attention

with your style and made up grace

But i long to touch a real face

and place my lips on hers

but am not sure

that you’d like me if we met

chances are you and I would regret

see life and love are built on tender moments of time

spent drifting into conversation

not living in frustration

of meeting a lingerie clad model

life is not that kind of movie

But feel free to prove me wrong

with a character to match those looks

maybe I should just keep my head in my books

what could I offer you

but my dreams and poetry all the while

after all I struggle for style and grace

and where your face is pretty

I am ugly and with a worn out smile.

Authors of the great myth

Given the gift

of sight

we fight and wrestle

nestling

in escapism

but it’s a prison.

she is out there

Sophia the goddess of wisdom

she spoke to me when I was 7

now I am nearly 37

I hear her voice

like yin and yang

Speaking her words to me

Am I just hearing things?

Is my mind just broken and in a sling?

Or am I just another author with a gift?

All we needed was love

You ask the devil why she can’t save the world

the silence is wounding.

It betrays

slays the meaning,

driven home.

Is god into much of a coma

to answer from his throne?

Alexandria defender of man

The woman who said she was the devil

Who won’t reveal her pain

Only the scars on her wrist

All you needed to save the world was love

Like the scars told me.

Live a lifetime in ten minutes 

I sit and think of you
Our dates 
The courting 
the tender kisses
the way you are my Mrs 
Our children and the way they’ve grown
the loneliness of our divorce 
then I realise it’s all my mind
we haven’t even known each other that long
but in my head our connection our bond
makes we want to belong
in your life
even if it’s just fantasy lived in 10 mins
I feel like I could live a lifetime in your eyes
dreaming under starry skies.

The villain

The villain

I am so nasty

people stand aghast

I am so bad

you feel a draft

on a summers day

murderous glances pave the way

I am sick, I am ill

babe with every hero it’s a battle of wills

I am so abrasive

I am like invasive surgery

I am so evil I burn bibles and call it purgatory

the devil herself could learn from me

I want pounds of flesh so burn with me

I am deathly shade

stalking the sun

I am the nightmare

in the night you run

I am evil

I told you to die

but chances are you’re petrified

I am so dishevelled

I make Darth Sidious look sprightly

Sith Lords can’t fight me

With just one flick of my fingers

and death lingers

I am psychologically deranged

so psychopathically strange

you wondered if I was ever sane

I just got back from Frankenstein’s lab

I killed the hulk yes I am that strong and bad

I framed Sherlock Holmes

and made him into an heroin addict

cause all my plays our that strategic

I even cheat death

in fact I own Azrael’s blade

I am villain, the one you crave.

The labyrinth of our life

There is kindness here if you can keep it in mind

there is sadness, remorse and discourse

that signals just how much I love you

However I walk in daylight and the rain

and it falls us both no ones to blame

in this labyrinth we have created

love blossoms in your absence

and yet you are with me in the movements of the trees

which seem to be watching me

and the leaves dance to your voice

or am I deluded I have no choice

but to believe.

The story we have weaved

like the rope that we marks our way

you are the light to my day

in the river your tears fall

I die in the labyrinth

calling your name on the wind

Hoping that you will hear it someday

my body decays

but memory stays

in your third eye

can love resurrect? Can it comply?

what was love but hope of your stay

in my heart forever you are with me I pray

for your speech echos in my head

this body but bone skin and sinew

I am lost in my monologue

I end where you begin I begin where you end

the last message I will ever send.

By Dan Hooks AKA Alienpoet

Your Angel

they said she would hold your heart

in the deepest darkest part of her soul

her love for you burning like a curse out of control

but they lied or was it fate

because love is hate

war is peace

and you are still free

but dumb in this land of the glum

A setting sun wanting to be her equal

by the quill you write with

you fight with

you love her with respect

does she respect you?

for you were her favourite

where you depraved right?

To turn and walk and away

when she seeks other men to kiss on her pillow

you are just a weeping willow

she cries on

a somber song she lives on

But when is all said and done

you fight for her when the worlds unfair and wrong

you are her strength

the love given that makes her strong

and when she finally sees

the forest from the trees

will you guide her

keep her stride

for you and her make world collide.