En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Jesus in the suburb

There’s a strange man
standing outside at the garden gate
on the other side of the mailbox
and he is dressed in a uniform
and looks somewhat familiar
but I cannot place him

and funny enough
the dogs are quiet
and to peaceful to my fancy
as if they
know him from somewhere

and I wonder what a traffic cop
is doing outside at the garden gate
and I am half irritated
when I open the front door,

but his uniform is somewhat strange
and looks like a flying suit
that a pilot would wear.

I wonder what he wants
and without talking he asks
do you know me?

There’s a bright like
shining like the sun
out of his loving eyes
and His hands has the marks
of old wounds
that has healed

and I wonder what He is doing
at the door of a sinful fool like me
and I open the gate wide
and He walks in.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open The Gate

I see you from the distance
From beyond the fence you made
Hiding all your feelings
Behind your barricade
Oh have you been invaded
Is this the reason why you hide
I know just how you're feeling
I know - let me inside

Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up - hurry

I want to get near you
But you just won't let me in
'Cause you're so scared of losing
Everything you've got within

Come on now you can trust me
Come on and open the door
'Cause I know just how you're feeling
I know - I've been there before

Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up
Hurry hurry hurry hurry
And do it right now
Do it right now
Do it right now
Do it right now - hurry

Do it right now - do it right now
Do it right now - do it right now
And do it right now - do it right now
Do it right now - do it right now
Hurry

Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up
Hurry hurry hurry hurry
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Down

song performed by by No Doubt from Beacon Street Collection
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open The Gate

I see you from a distance
From beyond the fence youve made
Hiding all your feelings
Behind your barricade
Have you been invaded
Is this the reason why you hide
I know just how your feeling
I know so let me inside
Open the gate up
Open the gate up, hurry
Open the gate up, hurry
I want to get near you
But you just wont let me in
Youre so scared of losing
Everything youve got within
Come on now you can trust me
Come on open the door
I know just how youre feeling
I know, Ive been there before
Open the gate up
Open the gate up hurry
Open the gate up hurry
Do it right now
Open the gate up...
Or Im gonna knock the d*mn door down!

song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome Stranger To Another World

it is almost dark when i arrive
at this place,
beside the cemented road
a garden of wilting flowers
petals are filled with dust
the trees along the way
towards a bungalow
are shedding off leaves,
sonorous, the place is getting
strange to me with its own
kind of quiet
the door of the house is half open
the swing on the side is not moving
the air is strong
and leaves begin to be flown away
i enter the door
dusting my shoes on the carpet
scarlet in hues
light is filtered by dark green curtains
i remain standing
and you are there waiting
for this final talk
it is strange for i feel
that i do not belong to this place
anymore
i am taking away all my stories
and a book of poems
there is only one thing
i like to say to you
we make an agreement
there will be no more elaborations
no justifications for our past actions
nothing hurting or unkind
we are tired of the pain

i am leaving.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper Cuts

I stand and look at this uniform in discust
paper cuts. Paper cuts. Can you see my paper cut?
Soon. Soon this uniform will touch my open skin.
I go to sleep but suddenly I awake to the morning,
in this trench I hear the sound of guns, the rain is falling,
like myself,
my uniform is discovering blood from and because of my guts,
you thought a poets biggest pain was a paper cut?

You never knew that I knew pain
don't you know that I know pain all too well
well, I know it well like the devil knows hell
well, like a drug dealer who knows how to sell
like a life sentence inside a cell,
you cant touch the pain I feel the pain I felt.
Quiker than the bullit the word spreads
so take your shot make sure you dont waste it
bullit to bone word to mouth I can taste it.

You aim towards no mans land, you stand behind the barb wire
you are the boss and the bullits are your emplyees that you must fire
you are a soldier a soldier that holds great desire
this war is one big debit card that will one day expire
although there isnt a date, I can see a gate. I can see you.
I can see you being led astray by propaganda
you are talking but I can not understand ya. I can see you.
I can see you firing your final round.
I can see that movie moment the one with slow motion and no sound.
I can see you from here. Up here, up high in the sky, down on the ground.

I can see you. You are sat with me in the mud. You speak.
Your eyes shut,
they open like the notepad but the words open up a much deeper cut.
I look. I see. I look at your uniform, I see your guts,
I see your blood.
We sit here with open eyes, the amminition flies through the sky.
Paper cuts. Paper cuts. I sit still as you stand on the front line,
I close my eyes as I realize the blood on your uniform, was infact mine.

poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleading

I'm knocking at your gate again
Open up
Won't you let me in?
I'm standing
Waiting
Watching to see some recognition please.
Yes
It really is me.
Open up.
Won't you let me in?
I waited for you
Let the years pass by
I listened to hear
The
'It's all right.'
I'm knocking at your gate again
Bloody knuckles
Scraped skin.
Panic is gaining hold on me
Please
I whisper
Let me in.
I taste tears..
Who is crying and why?
My vision is blurred
There is stinging in my eyes.
I'm knocking at your gate again.
Waiting
For the gusty wind to carry me away
From this lonesome place.
I'm knocking at your gate again.
Why won't you answer?
Why won't you let me in?
I'm walking down the path again
Away from you,
Away from this thing..
Whatever binds us
Will eventually break.
The threads will give way
Perhaps then
I will have found my escape.
No shelter here
Nothing secure
you don't even bother to peak
Through the curtains anymore.
I'm leaving you,
battered and bruised,
To a new place
A better home
Somewhere safe.

poem by Rabia Minhas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whispers in the Garden

At early dawn,
I rose from my slumber
And swung open
The garden gate.

I nestled down
Among the rows
Of plants
and watched them germinate.

Tendrals of Ivy,
Dewed Rose,
And Indian Corn.

All are growing,
This early morn.

There's Sunflower,
Tomatoe. Lime.
Lemon. Grape!

All are beyond
The garden gate

Each plant rustles
As it matures.

poem by Macy Dvirnak
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Grace Of Clydeside

AH, little Grace of the golden locks,
The hills rise fair on the shores of Clyde.
As the merry waves wear out these rocks
She wears my heart out, glides past and mocks:
But heaven's gate ever stands open wide.

The boat goes softly along, along,
Like a river of life glows the amber Clyde;
Her voice floats near me like angel's song,--
Ah, sweet love-death, but thy pangs are strong!
Though heaven's gate ever stands open wide.

We walk by the shore and the stars shine bright,
But coldly, above the solemn Clyde:
Her arm touches mine--her laugh rings light--
ONE hears my silence: His merciful night
Hides me--Can heaven be open wide?

I ever was but a dreamer, Grace:
As the gray hills watch o'er the sunny Clyde,
Standing afar, each in his place,
I watch your young life's beautiful race,
Apart--until heaven be opened wide.

And sometimes when in the twilight balm
The hills grow purple along the Clyde,
The waves flow softly and very calm,
I hear all nature sing this one psalm,
That 'heaven's gate ever stands open wide.'

So, happy Grace, with your spirit free,
Laugh on! life is sweet on the banks of Clyde;
This is no blame unto thee or me;
Only God saw it could not be,
Therefore His heaven stands open wide.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man In A Uniform

Oh, she said
(hut!)
She said c man in a uniform
2night thats what I want u 2 be
She said c 3rd time this week u wore that old suit
But I dont give a damn, u see?
Because man in a uniform do funny things 2 me
And I said c its the 3rd time, but I dont mind
Cuz that sister just so damn fine, ah
Man in a uniform (hut!)
Thats what I am
Man in a uniform, uh
Thats what I am
She said c man in a uniform
Sufferin every stroke of my hand
From the dusk until the early morn
U will grant this girls demands (why? )
Cuz she need 2 be drunk with pride
Wait a minute, Im gon tell u why
2 make up, 2 make up
2 make up 4 the emptiness that she feel inside
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Come on
Man in a uniform, mama
Thats what I am (hut!)
(hut!)
Man in a uniform
She said c 2night (2night)
I want your attention (tention)
She said c 2night I want your violent tongue
2 swallow my stench and be loyal 2 me
Shell never be free
Until u do me like a man in a uniform (hut!)
Man in a uniform (in a uniform)
Thats what I am
In a uniform (baby, baby, yeah)
Thats what I am
Dirty little man in a uniform
Thats what I am (hut!)

song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Woman And The Old Mansion

the old woman as old as the old mansı on
plasters fallı ng down from the wall
brickets grinning grinnnig and grinn ing barely
tiles some broken...some sparse
unlocks the gate of the old ancient mansion
keeps the door open for a while
to collect some bushes and wood from the garden
to use as kindling in stove or oven
she seems to be alone
but knows how cope with life life..bitter life
she shouts at the dogs playing in the garden
and scoulds them to go away
it is winter
may be the second week of the january
some snow
some thistles though brownish yellow
are upright to heaven
though no sparrows and finches..desolate
she not only unlocks the gate of the old ancient mansion
but she also unlocks the memorı es of her life
she seems to be alone...alone and alone
cool as a stone..erect
she has accepted the bitter reality of life
where are her parents...her husband..
her children...
her sisters..her brothers..her relatives
next of kins
noone knows
she then enters the old ancient mansı on
locks and bolts the gate
at night
light gleams
from one of the second storey rooms
of the old ancient mansion
it is winter
may be second week of january
in one of the desolate gardens of universe
life goes on desolately
under the guard and auspı eces of our creator
the GOD

poem by Metin Sahin
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At The Front Gate (Rondelet)

At the front gate
I saw you smell a new red rose,
at the front gate
this afternoon I could not wait
for you to come, to hold you close,
to you I wanted to propose
at the front gate.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teach Me How To Fly

It's never to late to open the gate.
'Teach me.
Teach me.'
Age is nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me to free myself.
Teach me like no one else.'

Moons come and those Summers go.
It's never too late to open the gate.
Minds in fear keep those dreams slowed.
Age aint nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
It's never too late to open the gate.
'Teach me,
I'd like to try.'

You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.

'Why can't you reach me to teach me,
To break away from those limits made? '

You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.

'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'

I can't.
It was something I desired.
And with that desire...
I found it could be done.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside Heaven Gate

I CLOSE MY EYES FOR THE FINAL TIME
LETTING MY MIND GO FREE
BECAUSE CLOUDS OF FOG SURROUNDING ME
AS I CONTINUE MY JOURNEY TO HEAVEN GATE
THROUGH A SMOKE FILL SKY OF ANGELS
FLYING AROUND
WITH THERE GLITTERING WINGS
AND THERE FRIENDLY HELLO
FLYING UP AND DOWN AND ALL AROUND
AS I MAKE MY WAY TO HEAVEN GATE
WITH MY SPIRITS THAT CAUGHT UP TO ME
AND MY PRAYERS THAT GOT ANSWER AT MY SIDE
ALONG WITH THE STARS THAT I HAVE WISH UPON
TO SEE MY LOVE ONES AGAIN
HAVE NOW COME TRUE
BECAUSE THERE GIVING ME A CHEER
SAYING GLAD YOUR HERE
INSIDE HEAVEN GATE,

poem by Bruce Martone
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A Child in the Garden

When to the garden of untroubled thought
I came of late, and saw the open door,
And wished again to enter, and explore
The sweet, wild ways with stainless bloom inwrought,
And bowers of innocence with beauty fraught,
It seemed some purer voice must speak before
I dared to tread that garden loved of yore,
That Eden lost unknown and found unsought.

Then just within the gate I saw a child, --
A stranger-child, yet to my heart most dear;
He held his hands to me, and softly smiled
With eyes that knew no shade of sin or fear:
"Come in," he said, "and play awhile with me;"
"I am the little child you used to be."

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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At Toni’s

Just before I want to drive
through the portcullis at work,
you phone me
and I have to stop
to hear
what’s on you mind.

The roar of the motorbike
makes that I must listen well
to hear what you say
and you want to go to Toni’s
and I wonder if you know
where the new precise are?

I have just cut through the traffic
and parked my bike beyond the house
when you stop at the front gate
and the barking of the dog’s tell me
to catch some speed.

The afternoon sky is clear and bright blue
and its still hot afternoon
and I give you a nice kiss
through the car door
that you open for me.

You are very early
and had left early at work
and the watering
of the vegetable garden,
have to wait till later
and there’s magic
in your smile

At Toni’s which now
is just beyond chamberlain’s
small lamps are already burning
and although we arrive without a booking,
a table is quickly
given to us.

The evening is romantic and peaceful
that’s much better than just nice
while the sun slowly sets
and your eyes
glitter and shine with the lamps.

I wish I could drag hours out
like this with you
and throw a bit of
balsamic vinegar in my plate
while the calamata olives
and pizza
taste heavenly
and you
and the sweet desert
with a cup of strong coffee
make the evening special for me.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No place for a courting-candle

A girl’s voice laughing softly
cuts through the night
and enters by the room’s window
and wide awake
I (six year old child) sneak out
to find the source of the excitement.

Gardiël studies with Martin
that boards with us
and both are matriculating
because he complains
that his eyes burn
from the old paraffin lamp
that gives light
at their farm house
where there’s no electricity.

A bright electric lamp
burns in the room
hanging ten centimetres
beneath the ceiling
and big moths
fly dark brown around it
caught in flight paths.

Another table lamp
throws a bright yellow glow
that brings heat in the chilly
highveld winter.

I see them through the window
drinking coffee and eating rusks,
before both of them
again turn pages in books

and crawl into the shelter of a bush
to stay hidden from them
and suddenly somebody moves
next to me
and I see her bend
to pickup small stones
that she throws lightly
against the room’s window.

The window opens wide
and I hear them talking softly
without hearing what they say
and the girl again laughs
before she walks to the front door
that opens noiselessly.

l’Envoi
It must have been only ten minutes
before uncle Hendrik (Gardiël’s dad)
comes running along,
open the garden gate with might
almost run the front door
out of its sockets
and with a walking stick in his hand
(that is stronger than a broom)
smashes out the light in the roof,
the table lamp
and the window
in Martin’s room

and I hear lashes
with thudding sounds
fall on both boys
and the girl
screaming hysterically
while she
also get lashed
and he shouts in anger
that this is no place
for a courting-candle.

[Reference: The word uncle used here out of respect and local custom and not to point out family relationship.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Hes Alive

The gates and doors were barred
And all the windows fastened down
I spent the night in sleeplessness
And rose at every sound
Half in hope of sorrow
And half in fear the day
Would find the soldiers breakin through
To drag us all away
And just before the sunrise
I heard something at the wall
The gate began to rattle
And a voice began to call
I hurried to the window
Looked down into the street
Expecting swords and torches
And the sound of soldiers feet
But there was no one there but mary
So I went down to let her in
John stood there beside me
As she told me where shed been
She said theyve moved him in the night
And none of us know where
The stones been rolled away
And now his body isnt there
We both ran towards the garden
Then john ran on ahead
We found the stone and empty tomb
Just the way that mary said
But the winding sheet they wrapped him in
Was just an empty shell
And how or where theyd taken him
Was more than I could tell
Oh something strange had happened there
Just what I did not know
John believed a miracle
But I just turned to go
Circumstance and speculation
Couldnt lift me very high
cause Id seen them crucify him
Then I saw him die
Back inside the house again
The guilt and anguish came
Everything Id promised him
Just added to my shame
When at last it came to choices
I denied I knew his name
And even if he was alive
It wouldnt be the same
But suddenly the air was filled
With a strange and sweet perfume
Light that came from everywhere
Drove shadows from the room
And jesus stood before me
With his arms held open wide
And I fell down on my knees
And I just clung to him and cried
Then he raised me to my feet
And as I looked into his eyes
The love was shining out from him
Like sunlight from the skies
Guilt in my confusion
Disappeared in sweet release
And every fear I ever had
Just melted into peace
Hes alive yes hes alive
Yes hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive yes hes alive
Oh hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive
Hallelujah hes alive
Hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive hes alive
I believe it hes alive
Sweet jesus

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dog Who Wants To Get Out Of The House

the Japanese fritz
is brown

the gate is closed
and it waits
for an exit by chance
there is so much
road to run
outside the walls

as i open the gate
it raises its head
and starts to scratch
the cemented
floor

i go out alone without
the dog
the gate is closed again

i carry with me
a feeling that i cannot
yet describe

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hope

Hope is with you when you believe
The earth is not a dream but living flesh,
that sight, touch, and hearing do not lie,
That all thing you have ever seen here
Are like a garden looked at from a gate.

You cannot enter. But you're sure it's there.
Could we but look more clearly and wisely
We might discover somewhere in the garden
A strange new flower and an unnamed star.

Some people say that we should not trust our eyes,
That there is nothing, just a seeming,
There are the ones who have no hope.
They think the moment we turn away,
The world, behind our backs, ceases to exist,
As if snatched up by the hand of thieves.

poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Fate vs Destiny

To find your true happiness tempt fate to discover your destiny.
You must hearken back to when real happiness was known
Remember its impact on your life
Opportunity knocks, open the door, you will see it coming.
You may be surprised to discover fate can mask your destiny.

Your fate and your destiny are not one in the same.
Your fate is what you settle for in life.
What you take as your life marches on day by day, an obligation to life.
Destiny is the gate you find at the end of the path you blaze
As you strive to attain life’s goal open the gate and find love,
Happiness and contentment; true peace of heart and mind.

Fate may leave you at destiny’s gate at the end of life.
Knowing only the travails of your battles to achieve life’s goal
Knowing not the sweetness of your victories.
The gate may not be open, leaving you empty
At the end of life's journey.

The path to your destiny is yours and yours alone
Ask yourself whether you wish to settle for your fate or…
Tempt your fate and discover the path.
The dark side of life; fear and self doubt can blur and cover the path.
Not always seen in the clear; hidden in your memory
Or on the full plate before you the path is always there.

Those who have known the depth of their love, the strength of their spirit,
Will find a guiding light illuminates their path.
In these qualities of character you will discover your true self
And the key to unlock the gate.
You will recognize the guide of your light.
The choice is yours, settle for fate or follow the light,
Find the key, unlock the gate … discover your destiny.

poem by William J. Henderson Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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