En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Mistaken Identity

I could see her
Behind the glass doors
Unaware of my presence
She was busy in her work
To seek her attention
I waved at her
Threw small pebbles
At the door
So engrossed she was
Did not pay
Any heed to my efforts
I was dejected
Did not know
What more to do
In frustration
I picked a bigger pebble
Threw it with all the might
It banged against the door
Shattered the glass
With a big sound
She heard the sound
Opened the door
Yelled at me
Who are you?
And
What do you want?
I anxiously looked at her
To my surprise
She was her twin sister
Without waiting more
I ran away from there

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Shuffler

An old man scuffed his feet across the floor
as he headed for the Café’s exit door.
He shuffled along with his walking stick,
a lit cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

His jacket looked like an open ferry door,
at least two sizes too big, maybe more.
A stoop kept his eyes fixed to the ground,
cursed with old age, and deaf to sound.

A nose dew dropp was moved by his sleeve,
apathetic to all who watched him leave.
He opened the door and again shuffled his feet,
as he became a number on the busy street.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Behind closed doors

Doors made of steel
others made of wood
life going on behind them
things that are bad and good.
Doors that are always closed
while some are forever open wide
behind doors can lie secrets
and where people can go to hide.
A door opened to a new future
another one blocking your way
families at war behind the door
but where children can happily play.
Prisoners locked in behind solid doors
waiting for the key to turn in the lock
as lonely people sit in their homes
waiting for someone just to knock.
The doors of Gold created in Heaven
only opened for the chosen few
behind them lies an eternal life
but will they open for me or you?

poem by Kevin Halls
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Little girl, little girl! !

Little girl, little girl,
Hiding in the cuboard.
Clutching Mr. Teddy.
Little girl, little girl,
They know you're in there,
You cannot hide forever.

You've heard the screams,
You've heard the threats,
The whole show like a radio
Now the final scene comes.

You heard the plates go 'smash'
And you heard the doors slamm
You see the blood run under the door.
They're looking for you, little girl,
Stay still, stay very very still.

Little girl, little girl,
It's safe to come out now.
Open the door slowly
And don't make a sound.
Come out, little girl,
I'm here. I'm alive. I'm waiting for you.

poem by Becky Ginn
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A Terrible Night

In the sweetest moment
of the night,
when sleep and dreams would
relieve and encompass
conscious thoughts.

I heard a sound.

I was awaken by the sound.
The sound came from the
door and it was lighter than
the tick of the clock.

I rested on the wall.
Hugged myself with a
preambulating heart
that has refuse comfort
because of the quiet sound.

The sound came again.
This time it was rapid.
Sinking me deep in fear,
enveloping me with goose pimple.

Suddenly, the sound stopped.
I stared at the door,
awaiting my fate.
For the night is still young and
deep within i long for dawn.

I waited.
There was nothing. Every
thing was quiet, too quiet.
Except sound from my beating
heart and tickling clock.

My eyes were wide open.
I focused on the door while
my thoughts move to and fro
my past and present deeds.
Oh Lord i cry, forgive me.

Time passed by.

The cock crow, immediately
i had a staggering courage.
I walked slowly to the door,
with immerse fear, i opened it.

With great sigh, i was relieved
though i had lost my sleep.

All this while, i have been
denied a good night by my
neighbour's dog, who was
found sleeping close to my door.

poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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The Secret Door

The Mystery

Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?
In my mother’s flat there were three doors, the first door,
with an old fashion copper handle, often slammed in anger.
The second door into mother’s bed room was never closed,
but covered with a dark curtain. A small flat I slept on a sofa
in the living room.

There was a third door, from her bedroom into the kitchen.
Sometimes when mother was out, I tried to open it but it was
always locked. There were nights when I wasn’t sure if awake
or not, the locked door opened as a sigh of ancient dreams.
Dawn, I heard the faint sound again, but I was too terrified to
know the truth of what I wasn’t sure of

Morning, mother got up boiled water poured it into a bowl so
I could wash my face. Breakfast, slices of yesterday’s loaf with
strawberry jam and milky coffee. I wanted to know of the sighs
in the night, but sensed it was forbidden to ask.
Time has many doors some will be forever locked, so I ask?
Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Simplicity Of Just Being Alone

four yellow petals
on a green stalk
no thorns
the sun above
the sea below
a bee and a butterfly
in a small garden
three pebbles
and a droplet of
water
no tears no sighs
breeze
no sound of radio
you sit alone
on a wooden floor
beside a door
not waiting for
anybody

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Christmas Story 'believe

she was awoken with a loud thunderous sound
she jumped up and looked around.
it can't be santa claus? it just can't be.
mommy did'nt even have money to buy a tree.

she heard the sound one more time
and upon her roof they did climb.

the little pitter patter of hooves
above her head
made her turn and jump out of bed.

she ran to the window and
looked to the roof
she wanted to tell her mother
she did have the proof.

she saw something red
moving to the chimney
then she knew it had to be.
that santa claus is not only
in our hearts and minds
and will live throughout all time.

all children are supposed
to be asleep.
but through half closed eyes
they would peak.

she then heard the sounds in
the room below.
as she opened the door very slow.
to her surprise there was a tree
decorated 'oh so beautifully'.

and there under the tree
there was gifts galore
who would think - that they were poor.

as she started to look around
at the fireplace he was found.
he was having the milk and cookies
that were left that night.
' oh my gosh what a beautiful sight'.

he then put his finger to his nose
and just like the book
up the chimney he rose.

she went back to her room, and climbed
back into her bed, said her prayers
and laid down her head.
she awoke the next morning
thinking it was a dream.
when she heard her mother scream.

how is this possible? how can it be?
'all these presents, and with a tree.'
as she ran to her mothers side
the tears started to fill her eyes.

i don't know who did this? i have no clue
and i don't know what i should do.
she then told her what she heard
and saw the night before
when she opened up her bedroom door.

as we opened up the first package
from under the tree
we saw a metal frame with one word.
BELIEVE
now we put this question to you.
do you believe? is this story true?

poem by Louis Rams
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Dormouse and a Ghost

This rare creature used to sleep all over the winter.
When the winter was over, one night the poor man heard
Somebody was scuffing the ragged doormat.
Then he slightly opened the door and peeped.
He saw it was scurrying away.
The next day at the same time
Scraping sound came.
He opened the door and kept a carrot on the mat.
This habit continued until the undernourished man died.
But it came as usual to the haunted house and there was always a carrot on the mat.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hey

You were on the second floor
Hanging out the window watching the cars Passing by
With that look in your eye
I was hanging round below
Waving to ya from the road
I was calling your name
You were miles away
Hey
You've been wondering
What's it to ya
You've been questioning why
All day
It's such a silly thing
Still it threw ya
Caught you by surprise
You're coming to me loud and clear
There's nothing really for us here
Its a terrible thing
Hanging on by a string
There's nothing left for me to say
You've said it all already now I won't
Add anymore
I'll just slip out the door
Hey
You've been wondering
What's it to ya
You've been questioning why all day
It's such a silly thing
Still it threw ya
Caught you by surprise
You and I so sick
And tired of
Hanging around
You and me we both
Agree it's all over now
All over now
Hey
You've been wondering
What's it to ya
You've been questioning why all day
It's such a silly thing
Still it threw ya
Caught you by surprise

song performed by by Bic Runga from Drive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water On Glass

Written by ricky & marty wilde
Cascading down
Theres a sound vaporising into vision
Its a sound in my head
That I feel and it shuts me in a prison
Say it wont last
Say it will pass
Always the sound in my brain
Can you hear it
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Dancing away
Like the lights on a moving coloured river
Sounds in my head seem to run
And again I feel a shiver
Say it wont last
Pray it will pass
Always that sound in my brain
Can you hear it (can you hear it)
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down

song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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About Your Denial....

Do not think that i am speaking of death
your view must be limited like an afternoon without hope for light

You have pocketed a smile
as though you are preparing for your usual cry

Do not think that life has gone awry
like the glass that spilled the milk
rolled on the table and fell on the floor

the sound of shattered pieces of glass
that feeling of stain
that silence that expects the reverse
of what actually happened

Come to think of it
this is just a path where everyone passes
they look forward for something else
like an open door that leads to a garden
a pool
a line of coconut trees
another view of the sea
a net full of fish

Come to think about it again
i am talking about life that remains life forever
you know it well
as it is written in the main page of your heart

you feel its song
you have read each word
and your soul has mastered it well

But for the meantime that you are lost in the middle
of everyday affairs
you pretend that you have forgotten it
afraid of the next door that opens
you settle for a chair....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If You Suggest It

I did not realize,
The depths of my being alone.
And my involvement with my peace.
Until I heard a knocking on my door.
Only to have it dawn on me,
Someone on the other side of it...
Had to have done that.
And...
With then use of their hand.

'I'm sorry.
Were you knocking long? '

~That's okay.
I began to use my other hand.~

'Well...
It has been awhile,
Since I have heard that sound.
It took me a few moments,
To connect it to the door.
I apologize.'

~Were you sleeping? ~

'Not at all.
But as you can see...
I am not familiar with receiving guests.
Come in!
Oh...
Don't pay my nakedness any attention.
But I will get dressed.
If you suggest it.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rizal

i agree
education is the key

when the door if
finally opened
in fact a long time ago
and

we already had
333 years in that
Spanish convent and
43 years of
that Hollywood experience

another door has been
closed
and still
the key has to open it

one door leads to
another
same key

the young keep on getting
that key
another door is close
more keys

each key has become
more expensive
and some have thrown
that key away

meanwhile the Authority
is asking
that doors outside the country
be opened

export labor
brain drain
that is another key
problem

on the other
hand
it is not the money
it is the open mind
resilient to
poverty

taking time still to laugh
at those hard times

i agree
despite the irrelevance
it is still
the rightful key

the door is open
and we are inside it
no one
no one can take this house
again
from us

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Another Learning

there is a door
between us as though
we are just
two adjacent rooms

to enter into your door
i need to have that key

you keep on telling me
the key was lost and you
do not know
where to find it anymore

there is another door
and you are allowing someone else to come in

at first i say 'This is unfair! ' and
I thought of forcing
that door open

on the other hand
i have my own door too
and the lock is broken

a long time ago i have
thrown out the key

for what use is a door with
a broken lock?

and for what use is your door
to my prayer?

i do not know what force is &
i already stopped begging

i change the frames of my window
i have some other plans in mind

there are nine planets in our
galaxy

there are many galaxies
in unlimited space

and like all those who still hope
they always know

that someone somewhere keeps
on waiting

in a world where doors welcome me
like arms in half-embrace

and so i go to places where
my feet are welcome
& i have learned the happiness
of forgetting.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A little Ghost Story

As I was going to bed
I turned out my light
tucked myself in
on a long winter's night
All of a sudden
I heard a door squeak
I thought someone was in my house
so I decided to take a peak
I heard the wind blow hard
and started to shiver with fear
and heard some noises again
but this time I knew I was near
I went into the living room
and noticed my door was opened wide
squeaking back and forth
I laughed so hard I almost cried
So I decided to go back up to my room
When I heard some terrible cries
I rushed to my room real quick
but a ghost stopped me in surprise
I ran and yelled
and I ran outside my house right then
and decided I would never
go back to that house again
At my new house
I turned out the light
you can probably guess
what went on that night

poem by Shaina Lloyd
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Doors

A door may open
Or it may close
It may be wooden
Or steel, I suppose.

A door keeps us in
Or may lock us out,
A door may be silent
Or with noise, may shout.

Doors are for safety,
Our protection -
May rot in antiquity
Lose purpose and mission.

A door like chance,
Can open a dream.
A door like romance,
Can cause some steam.

But there is one door
With its key - never part,
Freely open, evermore -
The door of your heart!

Cynthia BuhainBaello
February 19,2012

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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We keep on postponing

The old door of the
Out house made a
Creaking sound
Whenever somebody
Opened or closed it
Always reminding
To take care of it
Nobody
Bothered to listen
What it was saying
Everybody knew
If the door was not there
The outhouse
Would become
Unsafe and useless
It seemed as if
Everybody was waiting
For its break down
Many a times
We do this in our life
Do not care for
Important things
By some way or other
They keep reminding
Again and again
We keep on postponing
Take care only
When they become
Urgent
08-03-2012
328-62-03-12

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Elevator

I was on the ground floor
and I wanted level five.
I pressed the call button
and waited for it to arrive.

It arrived with no one in it,
so I entered and closed the door.
It took its time to get going,
then slowed for the next floor.

The doors hesitated then opened,
but no one was there,
but I definitely felt a presence
and a disturbance in the air.

I was standing still and anxious
when the lift shook from side to side.
The doors closed and up it went to three
where the doors opened wide.

Again no one was there waiting,
but I felt someone get in.
Movement in the air and floor
was most unsettling.

I was overwhelmed and nervous
as it approached level four.
It stopped, but no one was waiting,
just like the stops before.

The elevator paused for a second
and I swear someone got in.
I was certain that I heard whispering
as the elevator set off again.

The space felt uncomfortably eerie
cold, but very much alive.
The rotten egg smell made me sickly,
as we went passed level five.

The light suddenly turned to darkness,
and I could see forms and shapes.
They were pushing each other violently,
as we approached level eight.

I pressed the emergency button,
but we still passed eight, nine, and ten.
At level eleven the elevator stopped…
then began to go down again.

At eight the elevator came to a halt
and everyone but me got out.
The darkness became light again,
so relieved, I gave out a shout.

The elevator continued downwards
and stopped at the ground floor.
An old lady and her dog waiting to enter,
but I couldn’t exit the elevator door.

poem by Orlando Belo
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The Beautiful People

I will not live forever:
I will die and the waves will bury me without any
Sort of sweeter pornography,
But while I lived I’ve had the chance for my lips
To sip sweet liquor,
To believe in the braver paganisms that come rushing
Like the noise of sound,
To sit together with distant friends in an air-conditioned
Theatre and to look together
At the beautiful people,
Those who together best represent the species,
The milk men and astronauts who are floating
Together
Door to door, a careless fraternity without a sound,
Pollinating both of those lips of you and your sister,
While neither I nor your husband are
Anywhere around,
Around.

poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Open The Door - IV

Mom! Open the door
I have been waiting on the door
It is chilly cold, havn't sufficient clothes
Mom! please open the door

the sun is on head
may i get stroke
Mom! please open the door

Mom! open the door
it is raining cats and dogs
my clothes are fully drenched
Mom! please open the door

Don't be so truculent
I shalt be thy obedient son
Please open the door

poem by Ramesh Rai
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