The corridor is hardly ever found in small houses, apart from the verandah, which also serves as a corridor.
quote by Stephen Gardiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Seeking Permission...
May I seek
Your permission
To build my castle
Of fantasies
That houses you?
The castle may
Crumble down
Let it be...
From the debris
Will I quickly build another
Binding every wall
With my precious tears
Copiously shed
In the silence of
Several vacant nights
I'll roam from room to room
From corridor to corridor
Its every length and breadth
Day and night
The walls resonating
With your name
My heart repeats
The castle recharges me
It's my life-line, you see...
Do permit me...
11Sep2011
07.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Jasmine Corridor
In all my lives, I never knew anyone like you before.
Woke up one day, swore I heard the sound of heaven knocking on my door.
And after all these years long passing,
Time to reflect, no time for wasting.
Walking down the jasmine corridor.
Reflecting echoes of quiet laughter.
In all my life, I was never better served than I was served by you.
And in my way, hope you agree I tried to serve you too.
Out on the headland I stepped once unsteady.
You there to catch me , I breathe more freely.
Hand in mine down the jasmine corridor.
Through all my life, I chased flitting illusions at a faster pace.
Never stopped to think: the moment was for seizing, had myself to face.
You made my bed to lie in, stately.
Mad cats, grandchildren, here more often lately.
The final view from the jasmine corridor.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revenge
Pushed me off the dirty floor
You watched as my head hit the floor
You watched as I rolled round and round
You watched as I came tumbling down
You watched as I rolled down the stairs
You never wished me - fare thee well!
You watched as I got on my feet
I ran towards her and she started to plead, no!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
Far below original sin
Far below the state Im in
Far below malicious crimes
Far below her for the time
Far below
Far below
Far below is the place youll go, ho!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
Oh went through the window, quiet as a mouse
No sound was stirring throughout the house
Id heard a noise that made me startle
But I kept on walking down the corridor
Yes the corridor
Yes the corridor
And there you were with a man once more, no!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hole
There´s a sphere of emptiness in this corridor called life
memories and dreams are our reason on not
Watch us go steady through this corridor or the forest called death
I´ll strive and continue walking
With what you call evil and what you call good
I shall dress myself to the greater evil to devour the less evil
I shall dress myslef to the greater goof to strike the less good
What is it
Forgive me
poem by Makie Natsumoto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monkey in Hospital
Now buildings have automatic sliding gates,
Sense creatures to automatically operate;
A monkey opened Delhi hospital gate to enter
Used to take meals and went out same manner.
One day while stealing meal he was caught,
In hurry to run away, way to gate he forgot;
He jumped ward to ward, corridor to corridor,
But could not locate the passage to out door
Then he was chased by the kitchen crew
Before he could be set free, hurt a few;
With great difficulty the things normalised,
The injured staff members got hospitalised.
An ape entered my home, found door unbolted
Took eatables from fridge, children got jolted;
Municipality, unable to control animals on tree
They can jump here and there and easily flee.
Need to think designing a device or facility-
In the world there are also naughty monkeys.
- S. D.Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money
Make your mind up
Whos going to think for you?
When the time comes
Youll have to see it through
Use your instinct
And take a risk or two
Dont you worry
cause youll know what to do
You can give so
Much to me
But I dont want it
I will be free
For the last time
Im going out the door
You dont need me
To help you anymore
Eyes wide open
I see its different now
Keep your comfort
Ill get along somehow
You can have my money
I dont need it anymore
I dont need your invitation
Down that lonesome corridor
Breakdown
You can have my money
I dont need it anymore
I dont need your invitation
Down that lonesome corridor
Nothing good comes easily
Count the cost, I will be free
You can scream and disagree
I dont want it - I will be free
You can have my money
I dont need it anymore
I dont need your invitation
Down that lonesome corridor
Nothing good comes easily
Count the cost, I will be free
You can scream and disagree
I dont want it - I will be free
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picasso
A sacred monster corridor crucified
Creating a fetish against the evil
Swallowed by perceptive realities
In an unlimited freedom of expression
Creating a fetish against the real
To scare off the pictures of mutilations
To scare off the SS Guernica creators
Handing her over into their arms
Saying Go ahead take this little postcard
You made it
A scared monster corridor crucified
Saw all the colours of the blue
Madness the doctors pronounced lol
He said sorry I had no other paint
Picasso sacred Picasso scared
Nailed within a spelling mistake
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drive On The Young Side Of Life
Your mother she protected you
And softened every blow
And brought you up to fear the worst
To be careful as you go
And the learned educators
With drip-feed [thrifty? ] facts to fill
You up to here with reason
Well-meaning overkill
If you find yourself a-growing
To be old before your time
Get off the endless corridor
Set your soul out on the line
Drive on the young side of life
When the pressure pains are building
And youre forced to join the crush
In the race to mediocrity
So respectable and plush
And while the child within is raging
And threatens to break out
Get off the endless corridor
Make a timely turnabout
Drive on the young side of life.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you board the wrong train, it's no use running along the corridor in the other direction.
quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction.
quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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dark corridor
passing by the unit
a man hung himself
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old
In the end
you go out
as you
come in
all that pride
a vague memory
as you shuffle
down the corridor
of lonely doors.
poem by Vince Gullaci
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ottoman
At the foot of my parents bed was an ottoman,
it was old fashioned, but solid and sound.
My father said it had been locked for a reason,
to stop children from nosing around.
This unusual ottoman kind of haunted me
and I was curious to look inside.
One morning I found a key in the green house
and it looked like the ottoman’s size
Within minutes I was face to face with the ottoman,
the key turned the lock, so I took a peek.
A burning light shone at the bottom of a stairway;
so this was the secret my father wished to keep.
My burning curiosity had got the better of me,
so I lifted the lid wider and got inside.
Down the steps I ventured with caution,
my ears twitching, and eyes open wide.
The steps led down a narrow spiral staircase,
which met a corridor, with a door at the end.
Behind the creaky door was another corridor
and a wooden stairway which I did ascend.
This led me back up to the ottoman,
which was strange, but had to accept.
I decided to mull this over in my bedroom,
but someone was sleeping, so out there I crept.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw myself sleeping,
but then my father called me down for tea.
He and mum smiled, and dad ruffled my hair,
it was then that I came face to face with me.
I ran from the kitchen, up to my parent’s bedroom;
into the ottoman, and returned the way I came.
Everyone was sitting down for tea when I joined them
and dad knew, that I wouldn’t be disobeying him again.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carpet Crawlers
He returns from his mixed-up memories to the passage he was previously
stuck in. This time he discovers a long carpeted corridor.
There is lambswool under my naked feet.
The wool is soft and warm,
- gives off some kind of heat.
A salamander scurries into flame to be destroyed.
Imaginary creatures are trapped in birth on celluloid.
The fleas cling to the golden fleece,
Hoping they'll find peace.
Each thought and gesture are caught in celluloid.
There's no hiding in my memory.
There's no room to avoid.
The walls are painted in red ochre and are marked by strange insignia,
some looking like a bulls-eye, others of birds and boats. Further down
the corridor, he can see some people; all kneeling. With broken sighs
and murmurs they struggle, in their slow motion to move towards a
wooden door at the end. Having seen only the inanimate bodies in the
Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging, Rael rushes to talk to them.
The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor.
For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before.
They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door,
Where the needle's eye is winking, closing in on the poor.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."
"What's going on?" he cries to a muttering monk, who conceals a yawn and
replies "It's a long time yet before the dawn." A sphinx-like crawler
calls his name saying "Don't ask him, the monk is drunk. Each one of us
is trying to reach the top of the stairs, a way out will await us there."
Not asking how he can move freely, our hero goes boldly through the door.
Behind a table loaded with foo
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It would be great to take one city street and turn it into a pedestrian corridor and see what kind of effect it has on the businesses in that area - It's the future I think.
quote by Stone Gossard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Reach For You
For so long
you were
an illusion.
a dream,
a figment
of my
imagination.
suddenly
you
appeared.
standing
in the
corridor
of my
heart.
I reach
for you.
then you
return
to your
former
state.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smokey Hued
My doors smoky open
ethereal;
right and left corridor
compartmented.
I see patterns
and rooms
to the right and left.
Here my Room of Tears,
weeping walls that caterwaul.
All my sorrows hang here
and Deep Regrets lie on the floor.
All My Loves
are in this room
in hues rosette
most past;
their glow
shimmers
even outside
in the corridor.
My eyes lid as I pass
my rooms of Cardinal Sins;
faces there
I'd wronged or mislead,
I was relieved to see Repentments Rooms next
where Atonements array the walls
and below on tables are
Just Due Parchments properly signed
for deliverance to Justice Hall.
I did make some things right there.
Upstairs are my Best Regards
in alcoves 'round my Heart
very soft
healing arts applied with care there.
I'm now down to Secret Sins,
its door ajar with Gambolments,
Inexcusables-Mindless Hurts-
all Unspeakables.
Oh, each time I make this trip
my energy's spent;
and I vow
next time
to make of it
a more pleasant trip
through this
my Soul's House.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Retreat
The heritage. Storm of violence
in our chromosomes: perverts the senses.
Spooky fear of burnt houses, broken limbs,
utterly committing as witness of silent
unbuilding, as the future defies the
stunt of withdrawl.
Not for tomorrow, the mother weeps
for the exiled trespassers on dead sea.
Drowned corridor of sinking ship. The explosions,
feathers destroying the direction of winds.
Life picks up the rags of pride, of ‘me’.
Terror waits on the lips of sorrow
like an obsessive maniac, ready to jump.
Some candle, bring me some light.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Send-off
You came to the door
Saying farewell
In your delightful white dress
Glaring against your ebony hair.
The fluorescent light
In the concrete corridor
Mingled
With the viscous uneasiness
Of departure.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work Your Way Out
lying on the floor
four stories high
in the corridor
between the asphalt and the sky
I am caught like bottled water
the light daughter
I wonder what you look like
under your t-shirt
I wonder what you sound like
when you're not wearing words
I wonder what we have
when we're not pretending
it's never-ending
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Ani DiFranco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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