Biography
Daniel was born in Oldham, but has lived most of his life on the Isle of Man. Not exactly a hotbed of political angst, depravation or social injustice. His work tends towards the contemplative, but with moments of harder edge.
First published in "Clean Sheets" after friends suggested his erotic material was worth the submission. He has also had success getting two of his poems into a book, "This Island Now", which is a collection of work from Manx poets. Daniel is a regular contributor to the Isle of Man Poetry Society, performing at Poetry & Pints evenings and submitting work for the periodic journal of the society.
With a new lease of life in performance poetry, Daniel is now working on new material specifically for performance and open mic work.
Samples
"Orbit"
Of dreams,
I have no idea.
She never speaks
of them.
Her touch,
is never felt,
as screen images
flicker past.
Her world
revolves opposite.
We meet only
in eclipse.
"Mind Doors"
Sure, I opened the doors in your mind,
let in thoughts and sights and sounds.
Illuminated cankerous dark cists
behind which your inner child hid, in fear
and insisted you had no neurosis.
I held out a hand to guide her out
with love and care and honest intent
but she was always craveing without relent
demanding everything I could give and more.
She said, "If you love me, you'll give it all."
I let you into my mind space, private space.
Where I hold secrets, hopes and desires
shared with no one in case they evaporate and die;
leaving me cored out, a husk with nothing
left to reach for, dream for, live for.
No, I had to let you go. Cast you out.
Cut you off, before all my life force
was sucked out, through my eyes. Divorce
you from my heart, my hopes, my dreams.
Then ran to the stones where I might heal.
"Contours"
As the sun bows out
the purple of heather
transforms to flesh
upon hillside hips.
Warmed water breaths
a mist that clings to
reflected curves, a veil
of gossamer white silk.
Pressed together upon
ferns and wild orchids,
entwined contours of
blushing skin yield.
© Daniel Hall, 2008
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Last blog entry
Posted on Friday 18th July 2008 1:06 pm
The bile you bark in my face
is not some random forecast
that I am to acclimatise to.
It enervates every part of me
while you stomp over emotions
and gallivant with my feelings.
I'm crushed in a private corner
dank hands protecting my head,
without hope of an ameliorator.
You might feel the need for a dictionary with this one. Heck I needed a dictionary to check a few of the words before I wrote it. It was written as an exercise using all the words in a given list. I bet you can guess what some of those words were. I was fortunate that the list matched my mood at the time.
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View or make comments. (4 comments)
Shirley Collinge
Thu 17th Jul 2008 12:16
Thank you for commenting on my poem.