Nothing of the kind; they do all these things in their houses and sheds, with common charcoal fires, and a quantity of straw to stop up the crevices in the doors and windows.
quote by Robert Fortune
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Charcoal Night
On a charcoal night the owl calls.
On a charcoal night wolves sharpen their claws.
On a charcoal night children shake with fear.
The charcoal night is growing near.
On a charcoal night the demon dogs sing.
On a charcoal night the little stars gleam.
On a charcoal night the air goes cold.
The nightmares and stories are always told.
On a charcoal night wolves wet their fangs.
On a charcoal night the owls call rang.
On a charcoal night the beasts are out.
On a charcoal night this is their town.
On a charcoal night lock up the doors.
On a charcoal night don't sleep on the floors.
On a charcaol night say good bye to those dear.
Because the charcaol night is finally hear.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living Trees Died
only fools will throw open doors windows
light massive ego fossil oil or log burner fires
when living trees died to fuel winter fires
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Root Beer Float Afternoon
It was one of those
kind of afternoons
When ball games were heard
From open windows
And houses had porches
And porches had swings
Where voices murmured softly
Into velvet humidity
It was the most precious of things
In the most treasured of times
It was a root beer float…
Kind of afternoon
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Animation
thunder assumes life
of the male genitalia ruling the evening
the houses are the recipients of its fury
the bliss of the other strikes
the roofs of those who remain indifferent
to its invasion
there are sounds of moaning of the wind
but the windows know how to pretend
that they are all dead
lightning tries to provide the electricity
of the lapses
but the doors like the windows
also know how to pretend
like the house.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shortest Straw
Suspicion Is Your Name
Your Honesty to Blame
Put Dignity to Shame
Dishonor
Witchhunt Modern Day
Determining Decay
The Blattand Disarray
Disfigure
The Public Eyes' Disgrace
Defying Common Place
Unending Paper Chase
Unending
Deafening
Painstaking
Reckoning
This Vertigo it Doth Bring
Shortest Straw
Challenge Liberty
Downed by Law
Live in Infamy
Rub You Raw
Witchhunt Riding Through
Shortest Straw
This Shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for You
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Pulled for You
Shortest Straw
Shortest Straw Has Been Pulled for You
The Accusations Fly
Discrimination
song performed by by Metallica from ...And Justice For All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stop Your Peeping Through Those Keyholes
Stop that peeping through those keyholes.
Open the windows and doors you've closed.
And take advantage of the time,
Bestowed upon you...
To stretch your mind.
Do this...
And you are certain to grow.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
Get fresh air and let yourself be exposed.
To all that is offered,
Beyond suspicions you guess..
And from rumors heard with gossip proposed.
Follow you must...
Each rising Sun.
From dawn 'til noon...
Until the dusk of twilight,
Invites nightfall that comes.
Stop that peeping through those keyholes.
Don't welcome your troubles,
To undo a happiness...
To chase away on the run.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
Stop that...
Peepng through those keyholes.
Open your windows and doors shut closed.
Stop that...
Peepng through those keyholes.
And take advantage of a life unlived.
One you have yet to accept.
Or come to know.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping before you're too old.
Stop that,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Live a life to live that is proudly told.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop that,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Live a life to live that is proudly told.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Live life before you're too old.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Straw
Oh a whole new way of looking at things
The way you react to phone rings
The way it feels when you just let it flow
Sometimes I wonder just how it could be
You take every bit before we see it off the rails
I think that you should know
You never cease to amaze me
You keep me from going crazy
And that's one thing I know for sure
Sometimes I see just how it all will be
Take every bit it's so easy the first straw
And this I know for sure
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
No reason to take it there at all
Yeah
The last straw can land in your mix
Your best day could be apocalypse
Nobody pay attention to the first straw
It seems the last one is all we ever saw
The first straw's a metaphore I pick up myself
It tells me something by showing me something else
I think that you should know
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
No reason to take it there at all
Yeah
Everyone reacts when it gets to the weight of breaking their back
I won't let that be us cause the long side never gave back
Yeah
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shortest Straw
Suspicion is your name
Your honesty to blame
Put dignity to shame
Dishonor
Witchhunt, modern day
Determining decay
The blatant disarray
Disfigure
The public eyes' disgrace
Defying common place
Unending paper chase
Unending
Deafening
Painstaking
Reckoning
This vertigo it doth bring
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
The accusations fly
Discrimination, why?
Your inner self to die
Intruding
Doubt sunk itself in you
It's teeth and talons through
You're living catch-22
Deluding
A mass hysteria
A megalomania
Reveal dementia
Reveal
Secretly
Silently
Certainly
In vertigo you will be
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Pulled for you
Shortest straw
Shortest straw has been pulled for you
Behind you, hands are tied
Your being, ostracized
Your hell is multiplied
Upending
The fallout has begun
Oppressive damage done
Your many turned to none
To nothing
You're reaching your nadir
Your will has disappeared
The lie is crystal clear
Defending
Channels red
One word said
Blacklisted
With vertigo make you dead
Shortest straw
Challenge liberty
Downed by law
Live in infamy
Rub you raw
Witchhunt riding through
Shortest straw
This shortest straw has been pulled for you
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We all came from houses with doors, doors that were supposed to be closed when there were things going on that we weren't supposed to see, and when our pants were down.
quote by Lynette Fromme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Requiem For The Year 2011
at the last hour
we march toward a common grave
bringing the flowers
and some stones
they year is kept inside
a niche laced with white silk
slowly the men with strong arms
lowered the niche
to the the newly dug hole
seven feet under
the women with long black hair
wept beside their innocent children
the year is buried
as we then throw the final stones
then it is covered
with its soil returned
until it is full
and then we put the flowers
it is over
now
and then we go back to our houses
it is nighttime
we close the doors
and open the windows to see
those beautiful stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inspired by Issa - morning charcoal fire
morning charcoal fire
excitements of the new day
in the fiery sparks
morning charcoal fire
embers' sparks spread
excitements for the new day
morning charcoal fire
sparks greet and give
way to the new day
morning charcoal fire
first the sparks
then the warm new day
inspired by
morning's charcoal fire-
the mountain's pine breeze
wafting by
-Issa,1813
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shell
The great doors swing
on noiseless hinges
oiled by the tears
of a thousand years,
keeping the outside out.
The doors are the doors
of the heart's desires,
trying to possess the eternal fires,
trying to keep the sun in.
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Son Never Shines (On Closed Doors)
I saw her there from afar
Her hair grey charcoal
Takes a drag from her tar
I kissed her a smile
But her blood red shot eye
Said the son never shines on closed doors
It's been eight long years since I saw
The woman who's labored
Since the day I was born
These wrinkles now face
To that cold dark damp place
Where the son never shines on closed doors
She said the son never shines on closed doors
I open to find only hurricanes blow
Take me away back to the green fields of May
Because the son never shines on closed doors
Death comes like a theif in the night
To steal while you sleep
The soul's flickering licght
Well maybe it's then
She said
song performed by by Flogging Molly from Drunken Lullabies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Charcoal
Charcoal is an impure substance
Called bone-black.
Of the animals is this charcoal
And we ascertain longevity
By heating the way of life.
Upon its character we find no smoke or flame,
Merely the rigidity of a fireplace,
Hotter than relics or artifacts.
Burning one way and another.
Burning again, like charcoal.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wistfully Watching
They explore the world
through windows,
church windows,
school windows,
two up, two down windows,
castle windows,
large windows,
small windows.
They see it all,
from blameless to guilty,
from noble to treacherous,
through windows.
From skyscraper windows,
to basement flat windows,
from paupers windows,
and palace windows
they watch, absorb, suck it in.
Later when they have grown
they will remember,
try to empathise,
rationalise
decipher the coded metaphors,
but some day
they will be demoralised
by the windows of life.
There they sit __ wistfully watching __
the children
of our times.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We, The Quantities...
they shall search for one
for only one
and take pride in it
as treasure of a
lifetime
i am not that one
for i belong to the many
those series of
words like trains like
ordinary public commutations
boring whirring sounds
others call it pollution of
traffic sounds in the city
i am not the one
i am the many and no one loves this kind
the faces of themselves that
they hate
in the quantity
the ordinary foulness
that's left in the canals where dead rats
lie
those that they avoid
reminding them of their own
lousy selves
the ordinary air that everyone breathes
and yet have
taken for granted
for air is quantity like the sea and the oceans
they are not the one
they are the many
the masses, the crowd, the ants and
beehives and
the pebbles of the rivers
whose faces are all the same
not one unique
for the altar of fame
we are all in these
the quantity....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Said
As said I have opened
All my doors and windows
Lions snakes birds
Air rain all allowed
To come and go.
I am impartial
I am transparent
I am judicious
I salute the truth
I salute the beauty
And pious.
As said I have opened
All my doors and windows.
I catch true words
That is there
Within the seven colors
Within the rainbow
Within the life
That is going and going
Like Times honest arrow.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harijan
If you utter the word harijan
You would be prosecuted.
How you dare to takeaway
Their lands, their houses
Their foods and clothings
It invites atrocities.
Provide them proper education
Provide them medical facilities
Provide them eyes and ears
Open their doors and windows
Let them assess the world
That it is theirs.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What We've Clinged To.... (Only Straw)
this body, made of straw,
now empty, blown by the wind.
leaving only the faint scent of eggs,
the echoed imprint of wings.
no more, and no less,
than the branch, than the tree,
than the memory of sunlight,
and the haunt of rain.
freedom sheds its bark,
god is buried beneath leaves...
perhaps only snow can transform.
only voices linger,
nay it be not names!
while squirrels devour the nuts
of a thousand passions!
nests be not wings, nor beak or talon...
what we've clinged to is only straw!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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