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Dino Clarke Poem
We dance we sing, we talk, we listen, we ping. Dreams are made of this. We walk, we eat, we laugh we cry, we console, we listen, no wonders why. We are magical, we are light, dreams of holding hands by the rivers moonlight. Dreams are made of this.
Together we are hand in hand, two against the world, you my women me your man. Dreams are made of this. We say things to the soul that hurt, we batter and bruise, we fight, we ignore, we cause fear we are sore. Dreams are made of this.
Through indifference, through pain, through rain storms, through the insane, through the mystery of me the storm always ends, two hands touch, a remembrance to commitment a remembrance to love. Dreams are made of this.
Without some struggle without some fight, without some tragedy without some flight, without some crazy, without some fear, then and only will love then be secured. Love is not solely achieved on perfection without pain love then has no meaning it must contain rain. Dreams are made of this.
Do not solely blame yourself nor solely blame others for the tragedy of love lost, you are human there is always a cost. Love In all of its fragility, love can be weak, unfulfilling, flightless, distant hope, and meek. Dreams are made of this.
Then that is not love, that is not real, that is not what you seek for only when love becomes forgiveness, love is not lost it becomes your strength your destiny your boss. Dreams are made of this….Poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
Oh hot pepper how you call to me, I stare at you with anxiety, I love you so but you torture me, but yet I eat you despite of me. Your heat glows red like a devil inside of me, poking and prodding, tempting me, challenging, promises of fire inside of me. Your skin so beautiful, so perfectly red, I cook you, I blend you, in chocolate or stews, let it be said OMG I so love you. Then the heat sets in and all I can say, is god dear lord when will the pain go away. I break into a sweat, my cheeks go flush, holy ring of fire I must stop. Like a moth drawn to light I cannot resist like a dog to a smell, like a zombie in the midst, I take a bite, the taste so sweet, eyes tear up, smile big and wide, ring of fire, 911 imminent inside. oh hot pepper how I love thee, glorious torture, you are one with me…Poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED WHY, 50 LIKES ABOUT “SWEET POTATO FRIES”.? PEOPLE POST ABOUT LOVE OR FAME , PEOPLE POST ABOUT PERSONAL GAIN, PEOPLE POST ABOUT FUN OR ABOUT HOPE, PEOPLE POST WITH A PERSONAL SCOPE.
PEOPLE POST ABOUT TRAGEDY, LOSS OF A LOVED ONE OR A PET, SOMETHING SO DEAR, IT TOUCHES SO DEEPLY ITS MEANING SO CLEAR, THAT SOMEONE IS SHARING THEIR PAIN, 400 FRIENDS THEY DO REFRAIN, TOO AFRAID OR INDIFFERENT TO POST A “LIKE” AN INTELLIGENT POST GONE IN VAIN, REAL IS FORGOTTEN, ITS ONLY SHAME IS THAT IT IS A POST OF REALISM INDIFFERENCE TO BLAME.?
PEOPLE POST WITH SUCH INTELLIGENCE, THOUGHTFUL, PROVOKING AND WITH TOTAL RELEVANCE, YET 300 FRIENDS DENY, THEY WOULD RATHER “LIKE” A PICTURE OF “SWEET POTATO FRIES”.
A LIFE EVENT JUST OCCURRED, A NEW HOME BOUGHT, A TRIP OF A LIFETIME WITH PICTURES TO MATCH! SUCH INCREDIBLE POSTS BY ANY EYES MIND, OH BUT HOW TO COMPETE WITH “SWEET POTATO FRIES”
YOU WONDER WHY SOME RARELY POST, ON A WALL LIKE A FLY, WELL YOU FIGURE IT OUT, IS IT THEY HAVE NOTHING TO SAY, NOTHING TO SHARE, NOTHING TO SPARE EXCEPT FOR THEIR FEELINGS TO SAY “I WILL POST RARELY” FOR YOU CAN SEE LIKE A BIG MAC ATTACK, IT IS CLEAR TO ME WHEN PEOPLE HAVE POSTED SOMETHING CLEVER OR WRY, SOMETHING SIGNIFICANT OR THAT MADE ME CRY, HOW CAN YOU COMPETE WITH INSANE, EVERYTHING SIGNIFICANT SEEMS TO BE MET WITH SUCH DISDAIN.
SOCIAL MEDIA YOU SEE ALL HAVE MADE IT TO NOT WHAT IT COULD BE, NOT A FORUM FOR JUST FUN OR LAUGHTER, OR THOUGHT, OR INSIGHT OR FOR LOVE EVER AFTER, SO WE OFTEN WONDER WHY WHEN PEOPLE WITH HUNDREDS OF FRIENDS POST AMAZING THINGS TO BE OUT DONE BY “LIKES” OF “SWEET POTATO FRIES”…POETRY BY DEAN
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
Endless percussion thumping away with no time to say stop talking so much stop banging away “Concussion” Tuning out the banging noise rat a tat tat, endless rifts with nothing to say, no fluidity, noise without end, no musical interlude exit the concert to let my brain mend “Concussion” Everyone complains that is normal that is the way, but to be a broken instrument, broken strings, repeating record all I can say is enough is enough we all support you ok, stop with the endless percussion, mend your skins, your strings, change you brain, sing a tune become a rock star with a sweet musical interlude. Concussion.
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
Know it all, know it all, always trying to show it all, look at me 1..2..3..don’t you wish you were as smart as me? If you please listen to me, while I express my opinions without reasoning.
Again and again I must disagree I am the know it all, don’t you see? I am the expert in everything, google at my finger tips, tap... tap... tap, news bite, news show or listening to the radio. Ohhh no no no you are wrong I am right don’t you see I have infinite sight?
Every little conversation becomes a “this one time at band camp”, a correction, a debate, excuse me please my mind is tired, I just want to relax and let my mind deflate.
Group outings, a boy’s night out just to have a beer just to chill out, and listen we do, listen with respect, listen to perfection, with no self reflect. We listen in awe to mock expertise, partial fact, partial intelligence conversation trap.
Busy buddy in everyone’s business, every little comment, correction, piece of advice is numbing my mind killing me slowly like a dull kitchen knife.
Look we all have one or two in our life, it is not that they are not good or not nice, a good heart or even decent advice, but if you engage them to much they will suck your soul, zap your strength fill your mind with thoughts of wonder why did I open my mouth to only hear just how inferior everyone is… oh dear.
Unless you are weak and meek or to polite to speak, be prepared to be wrong to be not quite right, and succumb to the will of the oracle’s sight, just Like a puppet on a string forever condemned to the know it all’s whim.
Clearly intelligent, clearly smart, clearly over bearing sometimes I need no part. Sorry you are so perfect and sorry I am so wrong, but still I forgive your annoying, and with the wave of my hand, poof I am gone… poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
If only I could vote for you, crazy Donald of my youth, after watching tonight’s horror show of possibilities with no truth. Here comes Zero-gun control, no tolerance, no respect for all, for in the future is insanity, sanity put on the run, no reason, no rhyme, more crime. race riots in full swing, is the future Donald brings. Donald to the left of you Donald to the right, spewing crazy is as crazy does, stupid right Forrest Gump? I do not watch much news, bad news day after day it can affect your brain, but I had to see tonight the momentous spectacle that Donald may bring our way. Donald did deliver on his future of crazy, but It sure did not amaze me, an audience full of beautiful Stetson’s and ball caps no disrespect its symbolic of Donald’s mainstream demographic. Donald’s future tag line will be “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” he is clear in his campaign rhetoric he has given America it’s warning, unheeded it will be the world’s darkest morning. I wish America to vote for the other Donald as I would vote for the Donald of my youth, he delivered on comedy, he delivered the truth, that innocence in the face of crazy is part of growing up, I am not sure we expected this real life Donald, crazy Donald Trump. I vote for the other Donald, for he never let me down, he was not real, just a giggle on the cultural American deal. A story foretelling of that day, that Donald of the future will become a real Daffy and will come our way. Truth be damned rhetoric reign supreme, grasping at straws of up holding the American dream, a dream that will drown in the wake of Donald’s dribble, his drool, forever staining the world’s pillow. No sleepless nights while Daffy is in power, pray to god we do not meet our final hour…Poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
Driftwood Avenue once upon a time an option to gangbang the option of crime.
Two paths to take, decisions to make down the rabbit hole would this be my fate?. Chased through the bushes almost got me too late, my friend did not make it, history back then was to be his fate.
Way back when, when gangbanging began, I had choices to remain strong or to get sucked in. Fighting a natural part of life back then no chance to walk away playground drama playground fight.
Time to defend. The tides of change were taking flight, a community in transition a future of blight. Gosford vs Driftwood who would win, two sides of pointless let the war begin.
An exodus to get out, but some could not, thankfully for me fate did not take me out…Poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
My treasure chest within my soul, how you have grown and yet are never full.
Deep with smiles of family and friends, my treasure chest full of hope, full of love, memories that will never end. My treasure chest an endless vessel that I will fill of my own choosing, of good thoughts and of good will, never to be stuffed with bad dreams or ill will.
I have molded you, forged you to be deep, strong and sturdy, to enjoy the dreams that never sleep.
My treasure chest within my soul, how you have grown and yet are never full.
Dreams can be comforting, but I am no dreamer, I will fill my treasure chest with life of reality, laughter and love, my treasure chest my treasure trove, my treasure chest within my soul…Poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
For crying out loud you came into my life like a bat out of hell, no time to think, no time to go slow, I was all revved up with no place to go, god knows I will love you until the end of time.
I thought heaven can wait, but I was to fast to late, fireball rush, like a moth to a flame, burning wings, I was struck by the bat out of hell.
Paradise, I thought by the dashboard light, had turned to ashes as my wings burned bright, for crying out loud I’ve been struck by the bat out of hell.
I had been in love before and had thought that two out of three ain’t bad, but they turned to dust, destroyed my trust, must be with the bat out of hell.
For crying out loud you came into my life like a bat out of hell, no time to think, no time to go slow, I was all revved up with no place to go, god knows I will love you until the end of time.
You took the words right out of my mouth, I had then felt no doubt that you were a dead ringer for love or so I thought, clearly my vision a blur, blinded by the dashboard lights, god knows I will love you until the end of time.
Petal to the metal all revved up with no place to go, musical lyrics of, god knows I will love you until the end of time.
Bat out of hell, angel smile, eyes so wild, beautiful lady of grace and style god knows I will love you until the end of time.
For crying out loud you came into my life like a bat out of hell, no time to think, no time to go slow, I was all revved up with no place to go, god knows I will love you until the end of time.
Life of rock opera fate to be, deep and dark, no answers to see, making love by the dashboard lights only to be gone by the day’s first light, god knows I will love you until the end of time...Poetry by Dean
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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Dino Clarke Poem
The day has begun, you are constantly on the run, the day to day consumes your mind, blurry vision.
Tedium of routine sucks your soul; you sink you sink you fret you think, Sweet whispers.
What is it that you forget? Is life so hectic, a maze of activity with no end, no regret? Is that your love life? Or your future to be? Is this how you see it in 2023.?
Tick Tick Tick time passes by, your man stands obtuse with no reason why. The lady, remember gentleman, that you have denied, the passion, the fun, the clouds in the sky? Where is your passion, your flame, where are the sweet whispers, who is to blame?
Love you for you then love her for her but never forget passion is no blur. It is simply the investment in love, the wanting, the feeling, the smile, the wave, the text, the call, the tender moments never the same. The unexpected, the expected, the passion the flame, this is love may it never wane.
You are the blanket the slippers, the comfort the man, stand up be heard, show your love take a stand, Sweet whispers.
You will realize and know that love is not fleeting but will only grow, love is repeating. You have no love in your life you say, it does not matter love everyday. You have been touched by love before remember? That feeling of warmth of torture and turmoil washed away with tears of joy as your man makes your day. Love is of a repeated existence like breathing you can ignore it but it will always be there. You can not deny it, you can not delay it, you will try to control it, you can not belay it.
Once in love or currently be, future love it will always see, that your worthy of love, of passion, of flame, of consideration, of the little things in life that always explain, that you are on my mind and you will always will be, fore that is love, cannot you see? Sweet whispers. Do not fret, nor worry or fear for love is always, it will never disappear. Celebrate love in its many ways, its crazy, its wild its passionate flame, never let it be just once a year live life large and have no fear for love is always close, and not just for a day, it is forever love not just a dream it is reality if you desire it to be. Sweet whispers….Poetry by Dean.
Copyright © Dino Clarke | Year Posted 2017
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