Visions Of Immortality
Traveling thru the realm of
time,
New diminsions of the mind,
Hearing drums, from distant
shores,
Bidding, come and explore.
Ever seeking, as I go,
The infinite, an open door.
poem by Heather Burns
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Related quotes
Chakra
Traveling thru the realm of
time,
New diminsions of the mind.
Bidding come and explore,
Chakra, opens up the door, .
Taking us places,
We've never been before.
poem by Heather Burns
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Secret Places
Traveling through
the rehlm of
time.
New diminsions
of the mind
bidding come
and explore.
Chakra opens up
the door
taking us places
we've never
been before.
poem by Heather Burns
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I Want to Know
There is too much I can not ignore.
Too much beyond my open door,
I explore to have those unknowns shown.
I can not sit...
Just to imagine what exists.
Or to hear from others...
From their point of view.
As they experience what it is,
I too wish to do!
There is too much I can not ignore.
Too much beyond my open door,
I explore to have those unknowns shown.
And my mind will not leave me alone...
Until my curiosity satisfies that quest in me.
There is too much I can not ignore.
Too much beyond my open door,
I explore to have those unknowns shown.
I want to know...
More of this life God has gifted.
I want to know...
And not inflict upon myself limits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Sea
The sea has always
held a fascination with me
with its restlessness.
Breakers falling on
far and distant shores.
Waves rushing up sandy beaches,
then retreating to roam some more.
I sit for hours just watching and dreaming
where each wave might have been.
On its waters, roam mighty ships
coming and going from home.
One day I may old sea roam.
My dreams may come true
and on your waters explore
the different lives lead
on far-flung distant shores.
Until that day comes along
on the beach, I’ll sit and dream.
7 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta
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With An Adventuring To Do To Explore More
Did I think,
One day you'd be reading me?
No!
Not this way.
But Reading you,
And the things people did and do.
I've always done.
Using a pad and pen.
To diescribe situations,
I'd find myself in.
Today who reads what I say,
Or believes what I express.
Depicts me best.
May or may not be true at the time.
Since my mind finds topic to explore.
And when I've completed my interest.
I leave that behind to open another door.
With an adventuring to do to explore more.
Is what I use my writing for.
To expose 'my' heart on my sleeve to me is a bore.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A new emergence
Several questions emerge in mind and invade
It makes me little nervous before they fade
Sometimes it is said idle mind is devil’s workshop
This all takes its shape when you prove to be super flop
It may matter less if you on last leg of your journey
Life is out lived and there is no lust for fame or money
You can afford to turn back to old memory and enjoy
It is like enjoying the past in present with no decoy
Still it troubles a lot when body refuses to act
It has lost all its vigor and visibly unable to react
Nothing comes at the right time to feel you sorry
It adds to tension and almost leads to more worry
Hands shake and feet start trembling all of sudden
Memory too deceives at particular point and goes off and on
Death emissary is awaiting call and knocking the door
Person may think of futility of life mission and what it was for
What is best way available for not to fall in such traps
What best option is open for and what can be good steps?
Let body not come to the rescue but at least mind can
You free your self open and mind should air the thoughts like fan
Many more may come to know about you and start believing
They may go on seeking advices your burdens may start relieving
Mind may find free from clutches and openly find breathing space
It is gearing up to meet the challenges by entering altogether new race
You will have vast horizon and open sky for traveling to and forth
It may induce you in believing the true essence of life and its worth
Why not explore the romantic world of youngsters and their behavior?
Why not act as if we are the one part of it and act as saviors?
It is difficult to know the love point with young mentality
You got to know your self well how long can be its durability?
Its hollowness can be ascertained by sheer sense of ability
Strong sense of humor with picking and adjusting the mobility
Let death while may blow up and there is every likelihood for train to be missed
Love bird may be miles away to offer lip sink and passionately to be kissed
There is no time for any kind of judgment to pass
You may try to gather fast what is best in class
Nothing shores up than to reach on the shore
It doesn’t matter how you did it or explored
It may have confirm to the morality standard
You happiness must reflect whether inward or outward
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Let My Love Open The Door
Pete Townshend) (various dates)
The people keep repeatin'
The children follow along
Everybody keeps from changin'
And you could say you did enough...
Let my love open your door... (3x)
To your heart...
Let my love open the door (2x)
When everything feels all over
Everybody seems unkind
I'll give you a four-leaf clover
Take all worries out of your mind
Let my love open your door... (3x)
To your heart...
Let my love open the door...
To your heart...
Let my love open the door...
Have the only key to your heart...
I can stop you from fallin' apart
Tried to say in my own way...
Somebody give me the chance to say...
Let my love open your door...
It's all I'm lookin' for
And erase yourself from misery
There's only one thing that's gonna set you free...
When trouble really falls you...
Don't let it tie you down
Love can cure your problems
You're so lucky I'm around
Let my love open your door... (3x)
To your heart...
Let my love open the door...
To your heart...
Let my love open the door... (5x)
Oh...to your heart...
Oh...baby, I know I said, I said, I said, I said, I said, I said...
...I said, I said, I said, I said, I said, I said...
Oh...na na na...let my love open the door...
Let my love... (2x
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet's Old Age Should Be An Adventure In Metaphors
A Poet's old age should be an adventure in Metaphors-
Traveling to distant unknown shores-
Discoveries undreamed before -
Old Age should be the Age of Metaphors-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Lonesome Ranger
I'm traveling in this beat up pick up truck.
The back seat door doesn't even open up.
Each and every day I have no clue where I'm going.
But still I'm on my way.
To new air, new places, new faces.
How do you do stranger?
I feel like the lonesome ranger.
Working along the highway all day.
People driving by saying all kinds of things.
Asking the occasional amonish and farmer for one or two favors.
A place to park the trucks, a place to get up and start.
One, Two, Three, and it's ready set go.
I'm traveling in this beat up pick up truck.
The back seat door doesn't even open up.
Each and every day I have no clue where I'm going.
But still I'm on my way.
To new air, new places, no faces.
How do you do stranger?
I feel like the lonesome ranger.
The night comes and the sun is gone.
The stars mark the way.
I can see the city lights before I arrive.
God their so bright.
Which bar am I going too?
With the money that has been made.
It is time to celebrate.
The weekend has come and soon my brian will be gone.
Hooking up with another one stand.
Cause nobody want to be with a man that is never home.
I'm traveling in this beat up pick up truck.
The back seat door doesn't even open up.
Each and every day I have no clue where I'm going.
But still on my way.
To new air, new places, no faces.
How do you do stranger?
I feel like the lonesome ranger.
From the mountain, to the backwoods, and rivers, down to the valley of Pennsylvania.
I would never leave this place not for all the gold in the world.
A mix of every culture, from the all these Catholic Yanks, to the invading spanish and indians, to rednecks that seem more backwards then the ones from the south, to the everlasting Mennonites.
The whole state is covered in all kinds of trees.
So much variety a place that always makes me happy.
I'm traveling in this beat up pick up truck.
The back seat door doesn't even open up.
Each and every day I have no clue where I'm going.
But still on my way.
To new air, new places, no faces.
How do you do stranger?
I feel like the lonesome ranger.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The aim of science is not to open the door to infinite wisdom, but to set a limit to infinite error.
Bertolt Brecht in The life of Galileo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Writer
Night Writer
Why not write now
No time can be righter
No one to tell you how
To live your life
Or design for you your lies
Does it suffice to have a wife
To tell you when it satisfies?
You've written before
Little at night, more by day
At night write more
You'll discover a way
To make stars into a sun
That will shine for you as gold
But gold is as good as gone
When you get to be this old
Poem writer
Up and write about modesty
It's what everyone talks about
That's you and your honesty
Who cares if the others doubt?
You came in time
But does time know who you are?
You have a claim on rhyme
But rhythm takes the measure by far
Into a new realm
Of words on words on words
They just overwhelm
Can't you hear what they've heard?
Maybe hearing loss
Is not the loss of hearing
Maybe it's that distant toss
When you hear the echo before the feeling
Now you're here and now
Now is the time's to write
Now's the time to fulfill every vow
Now's not the time to lose sight
Of what you might lose
If you don't write every night.
poem by Ragy Sandid
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Can I
Can I write a verse?
In the early dawn,
Can I find the courage?
To somehow carry on.
Can I walk in meadows?
Green beneath my feet.
Can I smell the flowers?
growing wild and sweet.
Can I find the secret, as
I explore?
The secret, I am seeking,
Will open up life's door.
poem by Heather Burns
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Three At The Door
Door bell chimes its discordant tune
ringing in still light, in month of June,
doors open wide, with sight alive
to coloured visions in my mind.
Ears receiving sounds of kinds
children's play and traffic bound
songs birding in birches' branched out hands.
I thought back to days on balmy nights
where we'd danced to disco'd sounds;
three stood at my door
their words as like a trumpet call
with sounds that tinkled, hard to find
amid the drumming in my mind.
Not them again, not them, not them,
them... them....them, them, them.
The beat drowned out the bugled call.
Not hearing words or seeing true
coloured eyes with blinded mind
I did not hear to know what they said
just listened to those drums
resounding in my head.
They came bringing salvation of their kind,
a salvation I must find?
I smiled received a saviours' pamphlet
bid them well, their buttons shined,
in my mind discordant chimes
ringing in still light of June.
poem by David Taylor
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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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The Balancing Of Sanity
There was a time,
When I would lay with mind awake...
And eyes open to contemplate,
My favorite seasons.
And with each one...
I would review what I had done.
And for no reason I would get up,
Before dawn would arrive...
To begin pacing the floor,
With a thinking of what chores I should do.
And which to ignore.
There is so much inside my home,
Seeking an attention given to come.
I then begin to explore,
The kind of day the Sun starts to etch.
And how I can avoid,
What in my head I should do next.
And if a cloudless sky,
Communicates to me...
That I should do what's best.
Well...
Who am I to argue?
I pray, exercise, shower and shave.
I may nibble something to eat.
To then acknowledge,
I will not waste a beautiful day...
Attempting to convince myself,
That a doing of chores had been a priority.
Especially if the Sun has invited me to go outside.
I am easily persuaded,
When Mother Nature invites.
And 'Mama' knows how I can be enticed.
'But,
Your chores?
What about them? '
Oh...
It's 'you'?
The good deed doer side of my mind!
Trying to inflict a sense of responsibility!
I contemplated them.
Isn't that enough?
I am not seeking to be rational,
With reasonable actions to master.
Nor,
Will I be bored today with the balancing of sanity.
I'm not going to give time for a scheduling of that.
Not today.
I am going to relax.
So go away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hypnotic
Baby come over here
And taste me
Won't you feel my lips
And take me deeper into your arms
Mesmerising
Way you got my Venus rising
Visualising your skin melting into mine
Open up, I'm coming in
Explore original sin
Open up, I'm coming in
Lie back
It's getting so hypnotic
I'm coming up on it
Your love's hypnotic
It's a beautiful way to fly
Surrender your mind
And lose yourself as we rise
Hypnotic
Time is locked into the pulse inside us
In a place they'll never us
Naked, sacred and pure
Hearts racing (racing)
Rhythm so intoxicating (cating)
Letting go and we're free falling
Going, going, gone
Open up, I'm coming in
Explore original sin
Open up, I'm coming in
Lie back
It's getting so hypnotic
I'm coming up on it
Your love's hypnotic
It's a beautiful way to fly
Surrender your mind
And lose yourself as we rise
Hypnotic
Hypnotic, so hypnotic
Open up, I'm coming in
Open up, I'm coming in
So hypnotic
Coming up on it
So hypnotic
So hypnotic
I'm coming up on it
Your love's hypnotic
It's a beautiful way to fly
Surrender your mind
And lose yourself as we rise
Hypnotic
So hypnotic
I'm coming up on it
Your love's hypnotic
It's a beautiful way to fly
Surrender your mind
And lose yourself as we rise
Hypnotic
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's drums - Ears
ears they are drums
god plays in this realm
eyes they are lenses
he places to magnify
his creations
tongue are channels
to his kingdom - adam
missed the right apple
and lost his right to an eternal home
my nerves are rivers
god fashions to help me
sail in his world to admire him
my mind, his inspiration as
to how extensive his creation is
you cannot reach its end nor beginning
my soul a repository for god to wine and dine
when his drums stop beating, lenses were covered
riverway closed and the mind waned in a mortal frame
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My Poet Time Travelers
I thought of it all day and well into the night
That for you a poem I would write.
What words can you use to describe a person
You’ve never seen.
Then a realization came into my mind
I’ve been writing them for a very long time.
Every time we write about GOD and his begotten son
The words flow freely and never left undone.
So it matters not if it is sight unseen
We write about everything- it’s a poets dream.
Poets go into worlds never traveled before
Seeking all that GOD has made
And come back with knowledge that they’ve gained.
Into the realms of mystery, love, excitement and fear
So that with you these words they could share.
They see the realities of today
The dreams of yesterdays
The future of tomorrows
And the pains and sorrows.
They are the time travelers of the mind
Their eyes are open - they are not blind.
So when you read what they write
It’s because of this time travelers insight.
So to my time traveling co-poets, this I must say
I am proud to have traveled this road with you
Into the minds of man, and writing
The stories that they all understand.
poem by Louis Rams
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