So many names
I have so many names
You can call me by any name.
Are you ready to come to me
I am here for you only
To heal you from all diseases.
Open the door of your house
The word the sound enter your house
And you find in every word in each sound
My name is there.
You can call me by any name
That suit you.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Sound is One
The sound is one
The word is one
Sound and Word are one
Word and Sound are one
Each Sound has its own Word
And each Word
Has its own Sound,
If you know the Sound,
You know the Word
If you know one
You know the other…
Knowing is one
The knower is one,
To know is one, one knows,
One speaks and
One's Word calls one's Sound
The Sound calls the Word
And there is no answer but ONE…
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Want To Play House
Call me ready, call me ready or not
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Give it all I got
Call me in the morning, when Im half asleep
Rivers runnin high on the mountain deep
Call me deadly, call me deadly serious
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
I couldnt care enough
Call me when you want to control the vice
Ill defend your honor when you roll the dice
Do you want to play house,do you want to play house
Playin in the house of love?
Do you want to play house,do you want to play house
Playin in the house,playin in the house of love
Call me over, call me over the top
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Never wanna stop
Call me on hire when youre in your shell
Wanna be your fire, wanna ring your bell
Do you wanna play house, do you wanna play house
Playin in the house of love
Do you wanna play house, do you wanna play house,
Playin in the house, playin in the house of love?
Call me never, call me never say die
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Take me alive
Call me undercover when you bake your bread
Wanna be your lover, wanna make your bed
Do you waana play house..........
(rankin, agnew)
Bob n weave music (dunfermline)
Copyright 1992 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Spooky Life
At times, my life borders on the paranormal,
witnessing things and hearing things
I cannot readily explain.
Ghosts enter and exit my life on a regular basis.
I’ve witnessed a ball of light fall from the night sky
and then return back to the heavens.
I’ve seen a house burn down until there was nothing left
and a year later I witnessed it do it again
on the anniversary of the first time.
I’ve seen a woman open a door and enter a room,
but when I went to find her moments later,
there was no one there.
I had a conversation with myself to a friend
and a week later, that conversation
took place word for word for real.
It may sound spooky,
but it brings me no fear
as not of it can hurt me
and only I can do that with fear.
(28 June 2011)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mojive
This is the house of MoJive
You take the R&B from the rhythm and blues
The 50s style
And the dancing shoes
A little bit of soul
A little bit of roll
Four on the floor and were ready to go
We call it MoJive
MoJive (x4)
Hey, Hey, Hey
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme MoJive
Hey, Hey, Hey
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme MoJive
Hey, Hey, Hey
Gimme the, Gimme the, Gimme the MoJive
Mo, Mo, Mo, Mo, MoJive
You take the hip hop sound and you shuffle it around
A techno beat
But you make it sound sweet
A little bit of house
A little bit of swing
Four on the floor and youre doing your thing
We call it MoJive
MoJive (x4)
Hey, Hey, Hey
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme MoJive
This is the house of MoJive
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When They Call You, You Must Go
do not refuse a chance to be a hero,
so on this day,
or tonight, when they call your name
go,
do not tarry, be ready with the raincoat
and the flashlight
you just do not know what happens next
they will take you to the place
a house on the side of the forest
at the foot of the mountain
there is no fire there
no smoke
nothing is cooked for supper
there is a bleeding man
and he is groaning in pain
and they open the door and you enter
with your black leather bag
and they call you
doctor
there is no ideology here
nothing to talk about
and you begin to take away the bullet
that pierced his strong flesh in the arm
and on his belly
there is no anesthesia and so you put
a red cloth on his mouth
until he faints and then there is silence
no song for the dead even
you cannot sleep over this calling
until you find light
penetrating the holes of the roof
it is already morning
and they all left and you do not know
where they are going
a child with sharp eyes calls your name again
he lead you to the exit point
back to your
old house in the subdivision where you live
where your wife is waiting
your breakfast is ready, your coffee cold.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Door's Grief
ah, the door's grief is not really brief,
it has been there since the hinges were fixed,
though it does not sound like an old man
grumbling, though its creaking sound
is hidden on a dropp of mechanical
oil,
there are those who still slam it
and out of too much fear
its grief lies hidden continually
on every closing
when you open it, it gives a respectable smile
yet you fail to understand
what was suppressed from what was not so valiantly expressed
there is no word for this
even the door cannot describe it
till this moment
when you close it again and again
as it becomes
another wall of the house again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XLIV
We came at last, alas! I see it yet,
With its open windows on the upper floor,
To a certain house still stirring, with lights set,
And just a chink left open of the door.
Here my companion stopped and bade me in;
Her dressmaker's, she said. And I, who heard
A sound of women's voices from within,
Shrank back alarmed and ready at a word
From any damsel stoutly to deny.
But ``Madame Blanche,'' she said to ease my fears,
``Is a good soul, and far too wise to pry
Or fancy evil of her customers
At any hour of the night they choose to come,
Much less of me.'' And so I followed dumb.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Find A Way To My Heart
Find a way to my heart, and I will always be with you
From wherever you are, Ill be waiting
Ill keep a place in my heart, you will see it shining through
So find a way to my heart, and I will, I will follow you
This journeys not easyfor you, I know
If your footsteps get too faint to hear, Ill go
Cos you know, questions are never that easy
And never the same
You have the answer believe me
If you have the faith
Find a way to my heart...
Time may come, and time may go, I know
If you should call out for me, Ill go
But you know, there is a code to be broken
I wrap it around
Without a word being spoken
Without a sound
Theres a reason I hide my heart
Out of sight out of mind
And when I find out just who you are
The door will be open for you to..
Find a way to my heart...
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gardener IV: Ah Me
Ah me, why did they build my
house by the road to the market
town?
They moor their laden boats near
my trees.
They come and go and wander at
their will.
I sit and watch them; my time
wears on.
Turn them away I cannot. And
thus my days pass by.
Night and day their steps sound
by my door.
Vainly I cry, "I do not know
you."
Some of them are known to my
fingers, some to my nostrils, the
blood in my veins seems to know
them, and some are known to my
dreams.
Turn them away I cannot. I call
them and say, "Come to my house
whoever chooses. Yes, come."
In the morning the bell rings in the
temple.
They come with their baskets in
their hands.
Their feet are rosy red. The early
light of dawn is on their faces.
Turn them away I cannot. I call
them and I say, "Come to my garden
to gather flowers. Come hither."
In the mid-day the gong sounds
at the palace gate.
I know not why they leave their
work and linger near my hedge.
The flowers in their hair are pale
and faded; the notes are languid in
their flutes.
Turn them away I cannot. I call
them and say, "The shade is cool
under my trees. Come, friends."
At night the crickets chirp in the
woods.
Who is it that comes slowly to my
door and gently knocks?
I vaguely see the face, not a word
is spoken, the stillness of the sky is
all around.
Turn away my silent guest I
cannot. I look at the face through the
dark, and hours of dreams pass by.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
Get Out Of My House
(hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!)
When you left, the door was
(slamming!)
You paused in the doorway
(slamming!)
As though a thought stole you away.
(slamming!)
I watched the world pull you away.
(lock it!)
So I run into the hall,
(lock it!)
Into the corridor.
(lock it!)
Theres a door in the house
(slamming).
I hear the lift descending.
(slamming!)
I hear it hit the landing,
(slamming!)
See the hackles on the cat
(standing).
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it up).
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it up).
I am the concierge chez-moi, honey.
Wont letcha in for love, nor money.
(let me in!)
My home, my joy.
Im barred and bolted and i
(wont let you in).
(get out of my house!)
No strangers feet
Will enter me.
(get out of my house!)
I wash the panes,
(get out of my house!)
I clean the stains away.
(get out of my house!)
This house is as old as I am.
(slamming.)
This house knows all I have done.
(slamming.)
They come with their weather hanging round them,
(slamming.)
But cant knock my door down!
(slamming.)
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it).
This house is full of m-m-my mess.
(slamming.)
This house is full of m-m-mistakes.
(slamming.)
This house is full of m-m-madness.
(slamming.)
This house is full of, full of, full of fight!
(slam it.)
With my keeper i
(clean up).
With my keeper i
(clean it all up).
With my keeper i
(clean up).
With my keeper i
(clean it all up).
I am the concierge chez-moi, honey.
Wont letcha in for love, nor money.
(its cold out here!)
My home, my joy.
Im barred and bolted and i
(get out of my house!)
(wont let you in).
(get out of my house!)
No strangers feet
(get out of my house!)
Will enter me.
(get out of my house!)
I wash the panes.
(get out of my house!)
I clean the stains.
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Wont enter me.
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Yeah! wont let you in!
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Let me in!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the memories!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the devil dreams!
I will not let you in!
Dont you bring back the reveries.
I turn into a bird,
Carry further than the word is heard.
Woman let me in!
I turn into the wind.
I blow you a cold kiss,
Stronger than the songs hit.
I will not let you in.
I face towards the wind.
I change into the mule.
I change into the mule.
Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw-hee-haw-hee-haw-hee-haw...
Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House With Many Doors
the house i love is a house
with many doors
the usual house you have
a front door and the back door
when one enters and there is nothing
to hide, one simply takes the back door
and be gone to the woods,
i can be imaginative at times
one door must open to the earth
another door must open to
the sky
and now, i must find a way
how to grow wings
or if destiny is too cruel
i must grow sharper claws
for digging the rocks of this
earth
now you must know that i have
many choices
up or
down.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This word...
This word is life,
this word is love,
this word is peace and this word makes you live it needs no complications.
So this is a word.
A word thats happines that word that lifts you up
its a word thats against all bad its a word that needs no piracy.
Its forgiving after you corrupted the word
this word is easy to call easy to spell easy to use easy to write even a dumbest pesom will spell it. Its useful
its artistic and intelligent
this
this
this word is powerful
make use of it
for it never turns its back on its word...
poem by Ernest Makuakua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Consent
i
only knock
you are the owner
of the door
of the house
if
you open it
then i
enter
but you close
the door
and the windows
of your house
airtight
and so
i turn my back
and walk
away
if you change
your mind
however
i am just
a stone
throw
away...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Call it vanity, call it arrogant presumption, call it what you wish, but I would grope for the nearest open grave if I had no newspaper to work for, no need to search for and sometimes find the winged word that just fits, no keen wonder over what each unfolding day may bring.
quote by Bob Considine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devil At My Door
when she was asleep in her bed
she heard a pounding in her head.
who can be knocking at this ungodly hour?
for in this house, the devil has no power.
when she heard a voice outside her door!
'open the door and i will give you riches and fame
if but once you call my name.'
hearing this voice outside her door ' she responded'
but! this is the house of the LORD, you see.
i will not open up for someone like thee.
you can not give me what i desire
and i will not follow you into the fire.
so leave my door- never to return ever more.
the devil responded:
but! i can give you all these things
and you don't have to kneel before me.
i can give you eternal life
if you but- become my wife.
she responded: before my LORD i will kneel
my heart and soul, he can heal.
eternal life- i will have with him
and not have to commit a sin.
so take away all your promises and foolish ways
for i have nothing more to say.
my LORD is with me- i will not sway.
so with this he left her door
to return never more.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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the sounds of Sunday
i hear the sound of the cold wind from the sea
i hear the waking call of the roosters
the scratching feet of the dog on some disturbing flea
and i hear her steps towards the door as she opens it
she goes to church
and i hear her gently closing the door and the gate too
closing in on me
i am alone now with all the other sounds of the house
this sound of the growing silence
some voices
rushing to fill my mind
some poems
for the day
it is this silence that feeds me
the trickles of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Are Gone I Must Survive
when you are gone
i must find a way to find myself
another way
another way of looking at
an old house
another style of opening
the same door
shaping my lips to utter
the same word
in a manner
that despite the pain
another lovely poem
must be written
i shall wake at a different
time and open the window
that you used to open for me
i will look for the stars again
on a brighter flicker
on a sweeter twinkle
i must survive
i am still alive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Their Fences And Yours
it is a rainy day and you look for
that nearest
available shade, this time, your neighbor's house
it is fenced and about five steps away
their closed door
some bushes hide what supposedly should have been
an open space
like a warm embrace of the arms
the door bell does not sound and you have no other choice
you change your mind and walk away back to your house
it too is fenced, like what they do.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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