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Peter Hoopert Poem
you make me thankful for every wrong turn iv ever made cause everyone of them led me into the arms of you,
your face is an imaged iv been searching for my entire life
and from the first sight of you i was unsure if my eyesight was true,
cause a beauty like yours is only but in dreams or so it seemed,
before I met you I thought the world was made up of coincidence and luck but i now know that is not true,
there must be a god because a beauty like yours has only one explanation,
no variation of simply a man and a women come together with sexual sensations
but god only god could have created you,
you are a flawless creature with features made from only the heavens above so amazing and beautiful that your beauty could be the death of me,
cause when i write these words i write them for you
i write because of you and i wright them to you,
and the ink of my pens are running out and led from my pencils are in the form of words about you,
words so sweet bees are attracted in every direction and even tho i am allergic i keep writing.
so now i know god must be real i pray but i do not pray for want or need or money that grows on trees,
no when im on my knees i pray for please,
please god forgive me for not having faith and god please forgive me for my sins i don't no were to begin but i do ever since i saw you,
i ask for forgiveness and remorse because when my time comes i want to walk through those pearly doors and see you,
and for eternity i want to be with you and for the rest of time find new ways to please you.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
it is on nights like these were I desire her the most, a cold wet
winters night reminds me of the deepest conversations while our lips remained closed, our souls whispered words that echoed when you held me close saying I love you
endlessly, a women who fulfilled my every desire with her Absolut smile whom I loved unconditionally, who with a single kiss could defeat every evil witch I processed and
leave me breathless, but the women I would die for is dead.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
were he made a sale on the most expensive car on the lot, his boss being so impressed gave him a raise which
eventually would result in this man getting back his family and being able to buy a car of his own. our third unsuspecting stranger
the young teenaged skateboarder no older than 16, was on his way to the skatepark at the time wendy had realised she was short of money
for the 802 bus. just seconds after the bus departed and she had realised she had one the jackpot she let out a burst of excitement
and glee, which made the young boy stop immediately to see what was going on which resulted in him narrowly missing the 802 bus. after he
had realised what had happened he went on his way to the skate park were he did tricks and impressive flips that impressed a man that
specialised in a skateboarding career so much that he gave him a job as a professional skateboarder and went on also to create great
success. but wendy didn't give that busker 2 dollars so she was no short for cash and didn't miss the bus to by that winning scratchy
instead she boarded the 802 bus, and without that 2 dollar donation it didn't inspire that busker to stay and get a recording deal
instead he also hoped on the 802 bus. and because the busker didn't stay the car salesman didn't stop to appreciate the music and
in doing so didn't hear the old couple wanting a car and joined the others on the 802 bus, and the boy on the skateboard wasn't distracted
by wendy because she never brought the scratchy which means he never stopped for that split second and did not miss the 802 bus, instead
he was struck by it making the bus to crash of a bridge and kill all of the passengers. if only wendy had made a seemingly unnoticed
kind 2 dollar donation to the busker she could have save herself and three other lives but not only save but bring riches
fame and happiness. imagine what ation we did or didn't make that have affected the lives of us and all around us?
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
i feel as if i am a hermit crab without its shell,
homeless with no were to live and vulnerable,
as if life were a seagull it could devour me full,
who am i is a question i am constantly asking myself unfortunately,
it is still a mystery well unknown to me,
metaphorically i am lost at sea.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
now this is not a poem but more of a short story if you are expecting a poem this is not one, but please feel free to read my story. it will make you think a lot about what you do! it will also have to a 2 part story due to the fact i only get 2500 characters.
monday morning a single mother by the name of wendy awakes to start what she would believe to be an ordinary day, but this
is no ordinary story. she starts the day as if any other monday morning, wendy makes breakfast for her two children gets
them dressed and prepared for school and sees them of to the school bus. she then prepares herself for work and makes her
way to a bus stop not to far from home to catch the 802 bus. on her way she is attracted by the noise if a busker, who is
playing his old rusket guitar and sing to make ends meat. and with a simple act of kindness of a 2 dollar donation to the
busker wendy could drastically change the life of herself and 3 unsuspecting strangers. a busker a car salesman and a young teenaged
skateboarder, see if wendy gives the busker 2 dollars then she will find herself short of change and be forced to miss the
802 buss to get money out of an atm. while waiting for the next bus to arrive she decides to bye a scratch it ticket and win the
jackpot of $750'000. and back before this was happening when wendy had giving the struggling busker 2 dollars it had inspired him to
keep playing his music for money, otherwise he would have packed up his guitar and cuart the 802 bus to a new location. but he didn't
and instead attracted more people to stop and listing to his music, one man in particular who fell in love with his songs was a recording
company manager and instantly offered him a recording deal and in time would go on to make great success in music. one other
person who stayed to listen to the busker was our car salesman, who ironically did not have a car so he was on his way to catch the 802
bus also. now this man was struggling in life, he had lost his wife and kids due to the fact he did not make enough money from work.
and on top of his current situation his work had been threatening to fire him unless he made more sales and until he could make
more money he could not have his family back. but while lured by the buskers music he overheard an old couple considering on
buying a new car to celebrate their retirement, convinced this could be a sale he persuaded the elderly couple to drive him to work
missing the 802 bus.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
heres a little bit of a song im working on.
just two little words i do would make me the happiest man in the world,
and id prove my love for you to show every one that your my girl,
cuase i know you know i love you.
thats all i got ha let me know what you think :) and any tips would be very welcome.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
an ancient city plague by disease
the fields painted by fallen knights
skeletons in armour coved in debri
with a cold fog and lack of moonlight
i turn to leave this place of mystery
but the trail that lured me in has disappeared from my eyesight
what was once a trail of dirt and fallen leaves
is now a field of shining armour exposed to the moonlight
as the cold air licks at my skin i hear a voice calling me as faint as the breeze
it leads me to a scroll that tells of an accent foresight
that of a young boy that will one night find a city of deceased and the way in will be closed for eternity
and when the night sky has passed out shall come the sunlight
for today is the day that boy will die for certainty
21/06/13
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
love is a strong word and love to me is, love is like a warm hug from the person you desire most in the world on a cold winters night,
love is not being able to live with someone but to not be able to live without them, love to me is the most beautiful and powerful
thing in this world, it makes us do crazy things. it can make us laugh and cry and feel happy and sad at the same time love is,
love is love. so when i love you and i mean truly love you and am utterly and completely out of my control in love with you i will look into your souls through your
eyes and tell you that i love you,
so i love you.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
i met you when i was 17 so i wrote this poem when i was 17 because as soon as my eyes connected with yours there was immediate attraction, and not just a fixation for
sexual sensation, but rather to take you to your favourite location for a special occasion like our first date and just listen, because i want to get to no you better, and i want to see you smile and be the reason you laugh, and when you feel under the wether id cook you breakfast in bed so you can be warm and well fed all together.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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Peter Hoopert Poem
i want to know your past to the extent i could predict your future,
with the gift of being in your present.
you give me inspiration like no panting meditating or medication could,
she is my significant other but like no other with a holy presence,
calved only from gods hand into a master piece like a sculptor making a sculpture from the finest wood,
plainly put,
she is an angel.
peter hoopert.
Copyright © Peter Hoopert | Year Posted 2013
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