Read Without Bores
Boat without oars,
horn without gores,
wound without sores,
hair without coarse,
drive without fours,
strain without force,
sore without source,
shots without scores,
wild without boars,
cold without hoarse,
who’s without doors
dream without snores..
rains without pours..
sing without soars
spawn without spores
enough without mores..
not without implores..
flattens without floors
whole without bores?
glass without blowers
grass without mowers
stormriders with doors
course without cores
finale without roars..
Related quotes
My Heart
Knocking the doors
Of my senses
My heart soars....
Urgent whispers, getting crisper
Beckoning, calling
My heart stirs...
Voices from past life?
Heart pierced by his knife
My heart cries....
Open the Door
Whats in store
My heart roars....
Oh God, whats that?
Bolt the doors
My heart combats....
I cant be yours
Let me be.
My heart implores....
In peace
That my plea
My heart is on lease...
Lets open the gates
To our next lifetime
My heart waits...
poem by Renu Rakheja
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Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box
there are bomb? doors and there are revolving doors doors on the rudders of big ships and there are revolving doors there are doors that open by themselves there are sliding doors and there are secret doors there are doors that lock and doors that don't there are doors that let you in and out but never open but there are trap doors that you can't come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pull / Pulk Revolving Doors
There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors
Doors on the rudders of big ships
And there are revolving doors
There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors
There are doors that lock
And doors that dont
There are doors that let you in
And out
But never open
But there are trapdoors
That you cant come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pull Pulk Revolving Doors
There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors
Doors on the rudders of big ships
We are revolving doors
There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors
There are doors that lock
And doors that don't
There are doors that let you in
And out
But never open
But they are trapdoors
That you can't come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Son Never Shines (On Closed Doors)
I saw her there from afar
Her hair grey charcoal
Takes a drag from her tar
I kissed her a smile
But her blood red shot eye
Said the son never shines on closed doors
It's been eight long years since I saw
The woman who's labored
Since the day I was born
These wrinkles now face
To that cold dark damp place
Where the son never shines on closed doors
She said the son never shines on closed doors
I open to find only hurricanes blow
Take me away back to the green fields of May
Because the son never shines on closed doors
Death comes like a theif in the night
To steal while you sleep
The soul's flickering licght
Well maybe it's then
She said
song performed by by Flogging Molly from Drunken Lullabies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birth of art
The sponge in the sea
Seeding it with million spores
The night lit by a full moon
The spores
Appear as dust
Like a sigh like a breath
The sea is now
Full of millions of sponge spores
Comes maleness
Fertilization of the dusts
The birth of art
Bursting
Like the new corals
The sea flowers
In long crowded Array
On the ocean floors.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty-One
A Birthday cake for you,
A Slice of Chocolate Heaven,
It may be too sweet for you,
That's why it's a fake one.
Today you get your keys
Can open many doors,
Watch out for cheeky monkeys,
That hide behind the doors.
Sometimes you get donkeys,
You better slam the doors!
If it is a wolly wookie,
Dash quickly out the doors!
If it turns out Chucky,
You better lock the doors!
I hope that you are lucky,
Waiting behind the doors,
If that is your destiny,
He will find you and be yours.
Happy Birthday Dear!
Music 1
to me music is a chance
to escape every-day trance
to me music is a blanket
something to shelter me when
times are tough
to me music is an endless row
of doors the chance to escape
common life bores
but most of all music is a bandage
to help heal every day sores
poem by Daniel Madden
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Two Doors Down
Chorus:
Two doors down
Theyre laughing and drinkin, and having a party
Two doors down
Theyre not aware that Im around
Cause here I am
Crying my heart out, feelin sorry while
Theyre having a party two doors down
I think Ill dry these useless tears
And get myself together
I think Ill wonder down the hall
And have a look around
cause I cant stay inside
This lonely room and cry forever
I think I really rather join em
Two door down, yeah
Repeat chorus
cause here I am
No longer cryin an feelin sorry
Were having a party just two doors down
I cant believe Im standin here
Dry-eyed, all smiles and talkin
Making conversation with the new love I have found
I ask him if hed like to be alone and we start walkin
Down the hall to my place waitin two doors down, yeah
Repeat chorus
cause here I am
Feelin everything but sorry
Were having our own party two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down, oh
Repeat chorus
cause here we am
Feelin everything but sorry
Were havin our own party
Two doors down, yeah
Fade:
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind Closed Doors
(kenny odell)
My baby makes me proud
Lord, dont he make me proud
He never makes a scene
By hangin all over me in a crowd
cause people like to talk
Lord, dont they like to talk
But when they turn out the lights
I know hell be leavin with me
And when we get behind closed doors
Then I let my hair hang down
He makes me glad that Im a woman
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
My baby makes me smile
Lord, dont he make me smile
Hes never far away
Or too tired to say I want you
And Im always a lady
Just like a lady should be
But when they turn out the lights
Hes still my baby to me
And when we get behind closed doors
Then I let my hair hang down
Oh, he makes me glad Im a woman
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Oh, behind closed doors
I let my hair hang down
Im glad that Im a woman
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
I let my hair hang down
He makes me glad Im a woman
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors
And when we get behind closed doors
Then I let my hair hang down
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deadlock
Mother! Tell me what is behind those doors
Late father averred there is a treasure
A microcosm of whole world’s splendour
An extravagent elegence of nature’s allure
But warned me not to open the doors
Unless and untill I am doubly sure
Mother wept and said, “It is a deadlock
By blunders of your forefathers; did choke”
Mother tell me what is behind those doors
I hear deadly thunders, shrieks and shouts
And plangent whimpers of unseen spirits
I smell something noisome and nausiating
As if coming from a mass burning of pyres
Whenever I look at those queer doors
My heart hammers with unknown terror
Why mother? Why? Tell me! Why?
What is behind those doors?
She sobbed and sobbed with wild shiver
And said, “It is our own Kashmir! ! ! ”
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Reveille
Come forth, you workers!
Let the fires go cold—
Let the iron spill out, out of the troughs—
Let the iron run wild
Like a red bramble on the floors—
Leave the mill and the foundry and the mine
And the shrapnel lying on the wharves—
Leave the desk and the shuttle and the loom—
Come,
With your ashen lives,
Your lives like dust in your hands.
I call upon you, workers.
It is not yet light
But I beat upon your doors.
You say you await the Dawn
But I say you are the Dawn.
Come, in your irresistible unspent force
And make new light upon the mountains.
You have turned deaf ears to others—
Me you shall hear.
Out of the mouths of turbines,
Out of the turgid throats of engines,
Over the whistling steam,
You shall hear me shrilly piping.
Your mills I shall enter like the wind,
And blow upon your hearts,
Kindling the slow fire.
They think they have tamed you, workers—
Beaten you to a tool
To scoop up hot honor
Till it be cool—
But out of the passion of the red frontiers
A great flower trembles and burns and glows
And each of its petals is a people.
Come forth, you workers—
Clinging to your stable
And your wisp of warm straw—
Let the fires grow cold,
Let the iron spill out of the troughs,
Let the iron run wild
Like a red bramble on the floors….
As our forefathers stood on the prairies
So let us stand in a ring,
Let us tear up their prisons like grass
And beat them to barricades—
Let us meet the fire of their guns
With a greater fire,
Till the birds shall fly to the mountains
For one safe bough.
poem by Lola Ridge
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At Night With The Rain
i have closed the doors
and the windows
and let go the curtains
touching the floors
i close my eyes and listen
to the rain
i dream of stars
i miss the moon
the walls close on in me
beyond the glass windows
to the sea
i hear the sad calls of the
night
outside the trees are blown
the black cat stares at me
and then some tears
begin to fall
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Boat-ride, Surreal
there, there...down there
through a thicket of fog
beckoned a vacant boat
i fought through the fog
and reached a zone, misty
the boat pulled me as if
i were a piece of iron
i hastened through
the layers and layers...
there i was, at last
assured that it would
take me to the other bank
it wasn't to be
the gently rocking boat
began on an erratic sail
down down the stream
in its womb of deception
hid many a whirlpool
the waters jerky...
hey, what was i doing
sitting in a boat with no oars
nor knowing how to swim...!
'you're the boatman
you're the oars...
row row...
the other bank
a distant dream
row row...'
a song filled the stream...
18dec2009
0540hra
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Drive Me Wild
Ooh, look at me, I'm a Cadillac
I'm a brand new convertible child
I've never been driven baby, U're the first
Come on baby, drive me wild ... ooh
Ooh, look at me, I'm a telephone
Whatever U want, just dial
Come on honey, please, it's so easy
Do it baby, drive me wild
CHORUS:
Come on baby, do it, drive me wild
Do it baby, drive me wild
Come on baby, do it, drive me wild
Do it baby, drive me wild
Ooh, look at me, I'm a radio
Call me up, make a request
I'll do anything, just name it
When I'm bad, baby, I'm the best
CHORUS
Ooh
Ooh, look at me, I'm a baby doll
Just pick me up and I'll smile
I may be young but I'm a whole lotta fun
Come on, baby, drive me wild
CHORUS
Ooh, do it, drive me wild
Come on baby, drive me wild
Ooh, do it, drive me wild
Come on baby, drive me wild
Drive me wild, drive me wild
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Sun (African song)
Police herd the helpless through Landrover doors.
Soldiers mount women like dogs on all fours.
Children bear parents, shot down in the road.
How can the Sun be so terribly cold?
Maize fields abandoned, eaten by flames.
Mud walls destroyed, villages without names.
Livestock run free, the kraal gates cannot hold.
Who left the shivering Sun to the cold?
Breakfast plates empty, stores with no supplies.
Noon, vacant desks, hunger in pupils' eyes.
This was the New Dawn, for breaking the mould.
How rose the Sun so unbearably cold?
Grass was preserved by communal rotation
Wildlife conserved by decrees of the nation.
Watered, watched over by Sun-Gods of old.
Now who saves the African Sun from the cold?
poem by Frank Bana
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Thought tree
as far the floors
they are now wet so
you don't teleport through
doors sneaking towards
perfection the pictures on
the windows will always
show clouds as i am
hiding beneath gates
always in glass clothes
and there
you
are
to
lit
ever
y mind
(11 July 2008)
poem by Selenaru Negrea
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A Mid-Day Dreamer
I love to sit alone, and dream,
And dream, and dream;
In fancy's boat to softly glide
Along some stream
Where fairy palaces of gold
And crystal bright
Stand all along the glistening shore:
A wondrous sight.
My craft is built of ivory,
With silver oars,
The sails are spun of golden threads,
And priceless stores
Of precious gems adorn its prow,
And 'round its mast
An hundred silken cords are set
To hold it fast.
My galley-slaves are sprightly elves
Who, as they row,
And as their shining oars they swing
Them to and fro,
Keep time to music wafted on
The scented air,
Made by the mermaids as they comb
Their golden hair.
And I the while lie idly back,
And dream, and dream,
And let them row me where they will
Adown the stream.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Furnished And Burnished
My feet beat a rhythm across the Shopping Arcade floors,
and in through the swinging doors.
Up speeding lifts, to counters packed with attractive goods
and gifts.
Now, making straight for the place where there is glamour
for the face, one spies lipsticks by the score, so many
shades that one cannot but adore.
I must buy more.
That concealing blemish cream which smoothes on like a dream,
Is a must. They still stock it, I trust.
Eyebrow pencil in colour ‘blonde’, which just has to be donned,
and mascara in black.
I think I’m on the right track.
Some shadow for the eyes too, in gold, brown, silver, or blue.
It’s so reflective and so effective.
My countenance is now furnished and burnished. Such finesse.
And now I have to confess, that I am ready
to launch a new me, with a new philosophy.
So with my shopping complete, my feet retreat and beat
a rhythm across the Shopping Arcade floors,
and out through the swinging doors.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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