Windows Of The Soul
They are the windows of the soul,
With roller blinds above,
Eyes opened up, grant new insights,
Still tantalised by love,
Such that they dilate at the glimpse
Of new flesh to devour,
While watching bodies to and fro,
As they pass by each hour...
They are the windows of the soul,
They help us choose our food,
With instinctive fresh decisions
Until they change their mood...
One day you're in, one day you're out,
One day you're in-between...
But pretty soon, beyond a doubt,
Watch out when they turn mean!
They are the windows of the soul,
The poet's faithful friends,
For such as these still dream at night,
Despite each day that ends...
And in those dreams, the truth's revealed,
The secrets there unfold,
With nothing sacred still concealed,
Beware what you behold!
They are the windows of the soul,
Imagination's spurs,
With recollections in the brain
Reflecting what occurs...
Twinkling with each new happiness,
Alerting us of fears,
The 20-20 blessings stare,
Outpouring all our tears...
They are the windows of the soul,
That's why they mean so much,
To complete our bodies' senses,
Emotions they can touch...
They see our friends and families,
They see our lives so far...
Right up to here, right up to now,
So we know who we are...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Related quotes
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
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Windows
Through the windows you see so much.
Revealing love with the lightest touch.
Through them you see so much truth daren't be spoke.
I sit and look through the windows.
Seeing through all the innuendos.
Reveling in the sweet cresendo.
As I stare through the windows.
The boughs break, and in my heart I celebrate.
As I realize it will not break.
For hours through those windows I could stare.
Worlds a plenty are there to share.
In awe and splendor I now stare.
Through those windows a bright sun glares.
How much longer do I dare,
to stare through these windows that show me things so fair?
poem by Michael McParland
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Love's Light: The Philosopher at the Window
The eyes, it's said, are windows of the soul;
and when I see your eyes so sparkling bright,
I see there beauty, truth and goodness; all
as one; the radiance of an inner light.
But I who, standing, gaze though windows here:
what does my own soul see by its own light?
Is what is seen, seen through dark glass, or clear?
Is others' radiance that of my own sight?
Strange fact: the outward play's less bright, less clear
than what I see to shine in others' eyes;
there seems less love in me, from me; less dear
the loving, than the love I see and prize!
These windows teach clear lessons to my soul:
first see my own self's light, to see the whole.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Window Insight
windows eyes into a company soul
windows eyes into shifting stock sales
windows eyes into heart policy sales
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Eyes Are Windows
The eyes are windows of the heart
Wherein transparency will show
A myriad feelings to impart
From where in sadness, tears do flow.
The eyes will say contents of heart
The speech two lovers freely speak,
For Silence eloquently starts
Romance in muted communique.
The eyes are windows of all cares,
Display the sad and wearied soul;
Distant looks and empty stares
Reveal a man who is not whole.
His weak attempts to somehow hide
What's clearly felt and seen-
Will showcase all the stuff inside
Deep secrets of where love had been.
The eyes are windows too of kindness
Touching looks that give embrace,
Blessing one words of forgiveness
Of bitter hurts there is no trace.
The eyes of Love are open windows,
Giving joy, shared happiness;
Reaching forth to let one know
It always seeks to bless with goodness.
-----
(Written May 4,2009 Tarlac City Philippines)
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Beautiful Are Eyes!
Sure, sure, it is true,
eyes are windows,
Windows that opens the heart,
mind and Soul,
To world around!
Beautiful eyes that see pain around,
And within see that pain,
Enchanting peace of soul,
That eyes which see the Self Everywhere,
The eyes that are beautiful,
Only windows that bring the fresh air!
Eyes are beautiful that can see beyond,
And see beyond the world,
The world beyond heaven and hell
hello hello namaste to all,
Smiling lips add to its beauty,
That can keep it smile in all worlds!
Eyes that are beautiful,
That can see beloved everywhere,
The formless beloved in all forms,
nicely packed in ugly or attractive packets,
Our beloved tests us,
Let the beautiful eyes show us the truth!
Eyes are beautiful not when they attract others,
But attracts with highest wisdom and knowledge,
Eyes are beautiful when they radiate love and compassion!
Eyes are beautiful which shines with truth,
Glows with cosmic intelligence,
that has Infinite ocean of Self behind,
The eyes that
bornblind Surdas,
Helen Keller,
Louis Brail and
many such had!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Editing Bukowski, Without His Permission
i
Long walks at night-
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
their beer-maddened husbands.
ii
(i am a minimalist, how about removing the last line,
ok, i will try)
Long walks at night-
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
iii
(hey, how about removing the first line,
the long walks are not really necessary,
ok)
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
iv
(hmm
why not remove the third and fourth,
it sounds good to me...
yeah, i will)
that's what good for the soul:
watching tired housewives
v
(what about using only one word
to make the poem
very brief?
ok.. i will leave the most important one)
-nothing follows-
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Windows To Bill Gates Or Paul Allen And History Of Windows
window's leaves
windows of open sea
windows as far as possible
windows easier
windows update
window shopper
window tablet
windows on the world
window seat
(Music by The Implicit Order) .
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Hidden Drive
there's a dirty house that's falling apart
some want to fix it but they don't know where to start
there's cobwebs and cracks in the walls
this is where rain's relief dares not to fall
no one really cares to help this place
they just look at the face
this old house is kept inside
with a disguising shell to hide
something i noticed as i passed by
at the house where hope will die
the windows were clean and new
though everywhere else the weeds grew
the windows had such an allure
i couldn't take it anymore
i gazed at the windows in awe
then through them i saw
the messy, run-down house inside
where beauty died
then i realized
something about eyes
eyes are the windows
clean and lovely for show
but behind them is the soul
sometimes your eyes will fool
the beauty and shine will not last
for one day, someone will see past.
poem by Alex Manson
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Broken Windows Shattered Mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
The tiny slivers fall like tears
They cut me till my arms run red
They make me wish that I was dead
And though I try to carry on
I know my time here's almost gone
Broken windows shattered mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
I'm surrounded by these fears
I know I shouldn't be afraid
I feel like I'm locked up in a cage
I push and pull try to get out
I scream until I just can't shout
Broken windows shattered mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
I'll have bad luck seven years
I know it's just a superstition
But I also know it's pure intuition
That made me stay not fade away
So I could live another day
Broken windows shattered mirrors
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Windows Of The World
Just like a rose without a thorn
Defenses fade, weve come undone
Desire, the answer for harmony
This moment together
We can see
Deep into the night
Were looking through the windows of the world
Underneath the sky
Were opening the windows of the world
We stay afloat on this sea of storms
The tides of time carry us along
Beginning and ending with what we know
Surrender emotions
Here we go
Deep into the night
Were looking through the windows of the world
Underneath the sky
Were opening the windows of the world
Beginning and ending with what we know
Surrender emotions
Here we go
Deep into the night
Were looking through the windows of the world
Underneath the sky
Were opening the windows of the world
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blake said that the body was the soul's prison unless the five senses are fully developed and open. He considered the senses the 'windows of the soul.' When sex involves all the senses intensely, it can be like a mystical experence.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soul Mates
Soul mates they seemed, soul mates they stayed,
Lion and lioness,
Thus side-by-side and unafraid,
Portraying happiness...
No growls, no scowls, no random roars,
No bared teeth warnings shared,
No staring eyes, no clutching claws,
Just peace because they cared...
Soul mates they seemed, soul mates they stayed,
United in their quest,
Together in the sun or shade,
Yet mostly when at rest...
Life's trials were tackled day-by-day
And also night-by-night,
For lions seldom run away
When each one has to fight...
Soul mates they seemed, soul mates they stayed,
This was their destiny,
Such that from this not one had strayed,
For this was meant to be...
No wonder, then, that peace remained,
Each knew their place, no doubt
And from such wisdom much is gained...
And that's what life's about...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Soul Mates'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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I Can See It In Your Eyes
The first time I saw you
I felt weak inside
I search my heart and mind
For words I couldn't find.
Some how you seemed to see
What came over me that night
As a love began to grow
That would last for all time.
And you said, ''I can see it in your eyes
They're the windows to your soul
Sometimes they say more
Than words could ever hope.''
''We could wait a thousand lifetimes
Then never feel like this again
But when you look at me, that way
I can see it in your eyes.''
Later on I asked your hand
And I prayed the time was right
I knelt down on one knee
And said, ''Would you be my bride?''
Then the sound of silence
Filled the air as your tears fell
With mine, you didn't have to say
A word for me to realize.
And I said, ''I can see it in you eyes
They're the window to your soul.''
''I see dreams come alive
And future plans unfold.''
''I could wait a thousand lifetimes
Then not find a perfect love again.''
''When you look at me, that way
I can see it in your eyes.''
Many years have come and gone
And what a life we've made
Now again we search for words
As the heart inside me breaks
Until death do we part
Were the vows we made
And now the time has come
But goodbye's so hard to say.
But I can see it in your eyes
They're the windows to your soul
The light of life is burning but
Soon you're leaving me, I know
But time that's left is precious dear
So please don't shed another tear
You don't have to say a word
I can see it in your eyes.
I've heard you say a thousand times
I'll love you dear, until I die
But you don't have to say a word
I can see it in your eyes...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Eyes
OUR EYES
do not actually see
for they are nothing but windows
to our soul
it is our soul that sees
through our hearts
blindness of the eyes
makes the heart see more
beyond
what is just there
within our grasp
gladly, beyond
what our
fingers always touch
what our lips
just kissed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Behold The Beauty
Behold the beauty in His eyes, the windows of His soul,
Though with the power to mesmerise, He would not seize control,
For all the love He owns He shares, His very life to give...
Behold the answer to your prayers, the reason that you live...
Behold the beauty in His mind, the faith that dwells within,
God's treasure trove He meant to find by those still lost in sin...
Since all have sinned and gone astray, God's Son was sacrificed,
From Genesis until today, Lord Jesus is the Christ...
Behold the destiny ahead, tomorrows' sorrows, too,
The purity of life He led is meant to comfort you,
Through all the seasons, come what may, through final seconds here,
The Rapture, friend, is on its way, whatever may appear...
Behold the Man, called King of Kings, the Man called Lord of Lords,
God's Son with healing in His wings who brings each saint's rewards
And stirs the stars and makes them shine, just like we can on Earth,
Behold Lord Jesus, yours and mine, if we respect His worth...
Behold the love, the joy, the peace our God has promised soon,
The miracles He will release, each one a wondrous boon,
Unearned yet granted by God's grace, bestowed on all Mankind...
If you behold the Saviour's face, what blessings you will find...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Be Windows To Be Shut
Don't open the windows!
Cold air will rush in.
Don't open the windows!
Hot air will blow in.
Don't open the windows!
Mosquitoes are there.
Don't open my history!
Treacheries will snare.
Don't open my memory!
Debaucheries will slip out.
Don't open my very eyes.
I should not be a witness.
Let the windows be shut;
With that the past buried.
Switch on the air-conditioner.
Spray on the bed perfume.
I must enjoy my night
With the world outside shut.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On Friendship
A soul to talk to,
Share secrets;
A soul who walks you
Through life’s stress…
A soul to laugh with,
and to cry;
Someone who makes
your tears go dry...
A soul dependable,
Who consoles;
A soul, you’re proud of,
And who cares…
A soul who’s priceless,
More than wealth;
Someone who keeps you
In good health…
A soul who affords
timely help;
Someone who gives you
right advice…
A soul with mind,
almost like yours’;
Someone who feels
like how you would…
A well-wisher;
A comforter;
A body-part
like your own heart…
A selfless soul,
Who keeps you whole;
A part of life
You dare not part…
And rarely friends too
blunders make;
And make you cry
More than your foes!
Good friends;
Thick friends;
Fine friends;
Best friend…
And that’s what friendship’s
all about;
Friends share your hardships,
joys, no doubt!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-29-2008
poem by John Celes
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Progress
Let there be many windows to your soul,
That all the glory of the universe
May beautify it. Not the narrow pane
Of one poor creed can catch the radiant rays
That shine from countless sources. Tear away
The blinds of superstition; let the light
Pour through fair windows broad as truth itself
And high as God.
Why should the spirit peer
Through some priest-curtained orifice, and grope
Along dim corridors of doubt, when all
The splendor from unfathomed seas of space
Might bathe it with the golden waves of Love?
Sweep up the debris of decaying faiths;
Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out beliefs,
And throw your soul wide open to the light
Of Reason and of knowledge. Tune your ear
To all the wordless music of the stars,
And to the voice of Nature; and your heart
Shall turn to truth and goodness as the plant
Turns to the sun. A thousand unseen hands
Reach down to help you to their peace-crowned heights,
And all the forces of the firmament
Shall fortify your strength. Be not afraid
To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Windows
In these dark chambers here what weary days
I spend, walk up and down as in a maze
To find the windows.----Only to unclose
One of these windows will be some relief.---
But somehow windows this room hasn’t got,
Or I can’t find them. Perhaps I’ better not.
Perhaps the light would be another grief.
What fresh surprises ther might be, who knows?
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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