Atameros
The palace with revolving doors was mine
And three of us went up its steps
To the tall room whose walls were made
Of the furred eyes of moths.
One only went within -
Atameros the Greek;
With steps that slid along the floor
He slipped inside and closed the door.
Whilst Williamson took off his boots,
Produced three large synthetic mandrake roots
And softly musicked Home Sweet Home
Upon his dirty pocket-comb.
Within the room a metal thread
Uncoiled to greet Atameros;
He placed his bowler-hat upon its head
And skated round and round
To the delightful sound
Of eight trombones,
Five saxophones,
And a lynched nigger's
Rattling bones.
Meanwhile, I hung out of the window and spat walnut-shells into the sea breaking on the walls far below.
Two doors he tried
One opened wide
He saw his face inside.
Down the corridor he walked -
Sixteen stools behind him stalked -
Till lie came where sponges grew:
Then Atameros really knew
Which end of the twig was forked.
This was the beach where the rats bred
So, reaching to the shelf above his head,
Atameros took the bowl
And strewed with seagulls' eyes
The crystal inches of the sand,
Setting them in a bloodshot squint
Towards the blue Madonna
Whose thighs nipped close the heavy clouds
Above that grey and troubled sea,
Tile soup of dead melt's bones,
Which washed with long-whipped moan,
The stumpy coral teeth of Fraser's Bay.
But time was getting on.
Atameros took out his watch.
It fluttered from his hand
And minutes, like a cloud of nervous bats,
Brushed past him
As the eyes closed down their lids.
And I, still in my tower, lost vast sums at Crown and Anchor, for 1 was competing with the sun and the mailed sword.
He spat and every globule turned to pearls
That ill low-toned concentric whirls
Ran on before him
Till lie came
To that high room without a name
Where all things shift
And yet remain the same.
On tile black bed she lay
With little ants at play
About the lobe of each her ears,
Biting each minute three small fears.
Once every day they stopped,
Scoured the clanging skies
Caught all the turtle-doves
Tore off their heads
And from their beaks
Built her a tower
Which ringed the moon
With wide lassoes of bloody twittering tongues.
Her breasts were glass
Through them he gazed
And saw the beatings of her heart.
poem by John Beevers
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Related quotes
Lullaby
Lullaby! Lullaby!
There’s a tower strong and high
Built of oak and brick and stone,
Stands before a wood alone.
The doors are of the oak so brown
As any ale in Oxford town,
The walls are builded warm and thick
Of the old red Roman brick,
The good grey stone is over all
In arch and floor of the tower tall.
And maidens three are living there
All in the upper chamber fair,
Hung with silver, hung with pall,
And stories painted on the wall.
And softly goes the whirring loom
In my ladies’ upper room,
For they shall spin both night and day
Until the stars do pass away.
But every night at evening.
The window open wide they fling,
And one of them says a word they know
And out as three white swans they go,
And the murmuring of the woods is drowned
In the soft wings’ whirring sound,
As they go flying round, around,
Singing in swans’ voices high
A lonely, lovely lullaby.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Dreamin'
If I close my eyes I see your face and I'm not without you
If I trying hard and concentrate I can still hear you speak
I picture myself in your room by the chair
you're smoking a cigarette
If I close my eyes I can see your face you're saying, "I missed you"
Dreamin' - I'm always dreamin'
If I close my eyes I can smell your perfume you look and say "Hi baby"
If I close my eyes pictures from China still hang from the wall
I hear the dog bark I turned and say, "what were you saying?"
I pictured you in the red chair inside the pale room
You sat in your chair with a tube in your arm - you were so skinny
You were still making jokes I don't know what drugs they had you on
You said, " I guess this is not the time for long term investments"
You were always laughing but you never laughing at me
They say in the end the pain was so bad that you were screaming
Now you were no saint but you deserved better than that
From the corner I watch them moving things from your apartment
But I can picture you red chair and pale room inside my head
If I close my eyes I see your face and I'm not without you
If I try hard and concentrate I can gear your voice saying,
"Who better than you"
If I close my eyes I can't believe that I'm here without you
Inside your pale room your empty red chair and my head
Dreamin' , I'm always dreamin'
song performed by by Lou Reed
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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Inside The Room....
we are only two
inside the room
later
we shall mislead
them into
thinking that
we are only
one
we are one now
inside the
room with closed
windows
and locked doors
and they
want to hear the
sound of
the bed
or the floor
we are one now
and you tell me
that
but then
i am not asleep
like the one
at the sky
hanging like a
lone star
still feeling the
vast emptiness
of this space
between us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sleep Teases A Man
Markov took off his boots and, with a deep breath, lay down on the divan.
He felt sleepy but, as soon as he closed his eyes, the desire for sleep immediately passed. Markov opened his eyes and stretched out his hand for a book. But sleep again came over him and, not even reaching the book, Markov lay down and once more closed his eyes. But, the moment his eyes closed, sleepiness left him again and his consciousness became so clear that Markov could solve in his head algebraical problems involving equations with two unknown quantities.
Markov was tormented for quite some time, not knowing what to do: should he sleep or should he liven himself up? Finally, exhausted and thoroughly sick of himself and his room, Markov put on his coat and hat, took his walking cane and went out on to the street. The fresh breeze calmed Makarov down, he became rather more at one with himself and felt like going back home to his room.
Upon going into his room, he experienced an agreeable bodily fatigue and felt like sleeping. But, as soon as he lay down on the divan and closed his eyes, his sleepiness instantly evaporated.
In a fury, Markov jumped up from his divan and, hatless and coatless, raced off in the direction of Tavrichesky Park.
poem by Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
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If God Made You
Hey Kid Your time has come to change
Though I need you more than I've needed anyone in any way tonight
Hey Kid I know it won't be long
The Captain's callingcome to see you back where we belong
Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there's somewhere better than this
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in her eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Hey KidDo wishes count at all
Can you give me a signgive me anything I won't tell a soul you told
Hey KidWill you hold me when I sleep
Will you find me when the tide decides that I got to leave
Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there's somewhere better than this
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in her eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in your eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there's somewhere better than this my love
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in her eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in your eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hospital
Large, heavy, wooden, daunting doors
loom before my eyes as I enter.
An empty side office, reception
with old fashioned filing cabinets,
dark now, glass shutters, closed.
Another heavy door in front of me,
this one leads to a wide, cold floored corridor.
I baulk, want to turn heel, go home.
The black and white tiling, lofty ceiling,
does nothing but repulse me.
More heavy, locked doors
with tiny, peep hole windows, all barred.
Screaming, faint screaming echoes,
ghost like, as it drifts towards me
gradually getting louder.
I reach a wide, stone staircase.
Everything's locked and bolted,
no one passes and the screaming echoes.
Asylums, those old mental hospitals,
where we still send the forgotten
to live out their lives and rot.
You wouldn't ever call this home
and the world outside rolls on
as the traffic drifts by.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Eyes Wide Open
Your eyes are wide open, but yet you don’t see
All the love I have inside of me.
Eyes wide open, but you don’t look around
You don’t open your ears, you don’t hear a sound.
Eyes wide open but the beauties that surround you
Do not seem to exist.
Is it that your eyes on you are playing tricks?
Eyes wide open and yet you have a blank stare.
Have you closed off your mind?
Or you just don’t care.
What can I do to remove that haze
So that on my face you can gaze.
If I hold you tenderly in my arms
And kiss those beautiful eyes.
Will they move? Will they cry?
What must I do so that you can see
That our love was meant to be.
They say that you went deep inside yourself
To hide the hurt and pain
But without your love “ I am the same”.
Eyes wide open. Did they just glance at me?
Is it because your heart is finally free?
I see a tear forming in your eyes
Emotions being let out that you tried to hide.
Eyes wide open- now they are mine
I can see your love for the very first time.
poem by Louis Rams
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No Lilies For Lisette
Said the Door: "She came in
With no shadow of sin;
Turned the key in the lock,
Slipped out of her frock,
The robe she liked best
When for supper she dressed.
Then a letter she tore . . .
What a wan look she wore!"
Said the Door.
Said the Chair: "She sat down
With a pitiful frown,
And then (oh, it's queer)
Just one lonely tear
Rolled down her pale cheek.
How I hoped she would speak
As she let down her hair,"
Said the Chair.
Said the Glass: "Then she gazed
Into me like one dazed;
As with delicate grace
She made up her face,
Her cheeks and her lips
With rose finger-tips,
So lovely - alas!
Then she turned on the gas."
Said the Glass.
Said the Bed: "Down she lay
In a weariful way,
Like an innocent child,
To her fate reconciled;
Hands clasped to her breast,
In prayer or in rest:
'Dear Mother,' she said,
Then pillowed her head,"
Said the Bed.
Said the Room: "Then the gleam
Of the moon like a dream,
Soft silvered my space,
And it fell on her face
That was never so sweet
As her heart ceased to beat . . .
Then the moon fled and gloom
Fell like funeral plume,"
Said the Room.
"Just a whore,"
Said the Door;
"Yet so fair,"
Said the Chair;
"Frail, alas!"
Said the Glass;
"Now she's dead,"
Said the Bed;
"Sorry doom,"
Said the Room. . . .
Then they all,
Floor and wall,
Quiet grew,
Ceiling too;
Like a tomb
Was the room;
With hushed breath
Hailing Death:
Soul's release,
Silence, Peace.
poem by Robert William Service
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Before Choir One Friday Eve
Before choir practice
before entering
the vestry door
you and Judith
stayed behind
and waited until
the others
had gone inside
and Judith said
look at those stars
and how dark blue
the sky is
you gazed up
at the evening spread
of dark blue
and stars
and moon
to one side
and you put
your hand
around her waist
and drew her close
and she lay
against you
and you said
I read some place
that some
of those distant stars
burned out
centuries ago
and what we see
is the ghostly glow
of dead stars
and she turned your head
towards her
and kissed you
and the pressing
of her lips on yours
and her hands
on your waist
and her 13 year old
breasts pushing
against your
14 year old chest
and the sound
of the choir starting up
in practice in the church
and the flight of bats
across
the evening sky
and she holding you near
and the lips engaged
and the eyes closed
and the breathing
taken in
coming up for air
and behind you
the aging graves
the tombstones
with moss
and half lit
by moonlight
and star's glow
and you held her
in place face to face
with your hands
upon the cheeks
of her behind
eyes still closed
in the land
of the love sucked
blind.
poem by Terry Collett
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Inside That Room
inside that room
clutters of old things
a conglomeration of dusts
silent stones
broken wedges
blunt shapes and sharp edges
inside that room
that silence we both shared
isolated moans
tongues lingering
inside that room
our memories
now the door is closed.
inside that room
the noise of insistence
the clap of a disaster
we disown
inside that room
the impregnation of tough thoughts
with soft laces
of ductile memories
inside that room
oh! there is no
us anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Smokey Hued
My doors smoky open
ethereal;
right and left corridor
compartmented.
I see patterns
and rooms
to the right and left.
Here my Room of Tears,
weeping walls that caterwaul.
All my sorrows hang here
and Deep Regrets lie on the floor.
All My Loves
are in this room
in hues rosette
most past;
their glow
shimmers
even outside
in the corridor.
My eyes lid as I pass
my rooms of Cardinal Sins;
faces there
I'd wronged or mislead,
I was relieved to see Repentments Rooms next
where Atonements array the walls
and below on tables are
Just Due Parchments properly signed
for deliverance to Justice Hall.
I did make some things right there.
Upstairs are my Best Regards
in alcoves 'round my Heart
very soft
healing arts applied with care there.
I'm now down to Secret Sins,
its door ajar with Gambolments,
Inexcusables-Mindless Hurts-
all Unspeakables.
Oh, each time I make this trip
my energy's spent;
and I vow
next time
to make of it
a more pleasant trip
through this
my Soul's House.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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In Mr Atkinson's Room
You saw Judy on the south wing
of the old folks nursing home
near to Mr Atkinson's room
carrying towels in her arms
I need to speak to you
you said
what about?
she asked
you playfully bundled her
into Bob Atkinson's room
(he was either
in the lounge
or out down town
hobbling along
for small items of shopping
or at the second-hand
book shop looking
for boy's annuals
of yesteryear
which he read
from cover to cover
before cutting out
the pictures
and sticking them
in albums)
what are you doing?
she said
what if Bob comes in?
he won't
he's out
you said
but what if he does?
she whispered
well unless I was rogering you
to kingdom come
I don't think he'd mind
you said
pressing her 5'5'' body
against the door
and looking into her
grey blue eyes
she gazed
into your eyes
and said
what do you need
to talk to me about?
I think I'm in love with you
you said
she sighed
that's the umpteen time
you've told me that
she said
she dropped the towels
on Bob's bed
and put her arms
around your waist
and drew you closer
you moved your left hand
around her back
and your right hand
on her buttocks
and said
that's because it's
umpteen times worse
or better depending
how you look at it
she kissed you on the lips
and you sensed
her tongue touch yours
her eyes closed
and you closed yours
the room becoming
a far away place
her perfume blending
into the air about you
the ticktock of Bob's
old clock on the bedside table
like some metronome
setting the pace
as if it was all part
of some song or some
deep aspect
of a Bruckner symphony
she pushed you away
and said
it's nearly break time
and people will wonder
why we're not there
and put one
and one together
ok
you said
removing your hand
from her butt
the warmth still there
her eyes still captured
in your inner self
thank you
for the Chagall postcard
I've put it on
my bedside table
along with that photo
you gave me of you
got to go
she said
and opened the door
and walked off
down the passage
you looked around
Bob's room
at the ticking clock
and the blue
candlewick cover
and the picture
of some boy
cut out of some
old annual
chasing a dog
over a field
and Judy's lips
and tongue
seemed still
to be there
in your mouth
and her hand enfolding
your waist and back
and Peter in the pants
going all slack.
poem by Terry Collett
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Dark Lady
The fortune queen of new orleans
Was brushing her cat in her black limousine
On the back seat were scratches
From the marks of men her fortune she had won
Couldnt see through the tinted glass
She said, home james and he hit the gas
I followed her to some darkened room
She took my money, she said, Ill be with you soon
Chorus:
Dark lady laughed and danced
And lit the candles one by one
Danced to her gypsy music
Till her brew was done
Dark lady played black magic
Till the clock struck on the twelve
She told me more about me
Than I knew myself
She dealt two cards, a queen and a three
And mumbled some words
That were so strange to me
Then she turned up a two-eyed jack
My eyes saw red but the card
Still stayed black
She said the man you love is secretly true
To someone else who is very close to you
My advice is that you leave this place
Never come back and forget you ever saw my face
Chorus
So I ran home and crawled in my bed
I couldnt sleep because of all the things she said
Then I remembered her strange perfume
And how I smelled it once in my own room
So I sneaked back and caught her with my man
Laughing and kissing till they saw the gun in my hand
The next thing I knew they were dead on the floor
Dark lady would never turn a card up anymore
Chorus
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Closed Walls
those closed walls so tightly pressed to my face
so thin i could hear through to the next room
but not thin enough for me to break free
no windows
nor door
i wonder how i got here
alone and frightend
at one point i once enjoyed
but now as i look at this room no bigger than me why would i
these closed walls must be speaking to me or im delousional
but they told me
once free you must change
change how you think
change how you look at things
change how you love
change how you act
for a momment i listened
but i knew i couldn't
i can change my outer apperance
but never how i think
thesefucking walls must think im stupid
i can think as i please
.
never come near these closed walls.
poem by Martel Alexis
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Ben Boyd's Tower
Ben Boyd's Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the sea;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
For her and me.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But we know that we shall meet
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
Moonlight peoples Boyd Tower,
Mystic are its walls;
Lightly dance the lovers
In its haunted halls.
Ben Boyd’s Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the foam;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
Till the “Wanderer” comes home.
O! he lay above us—
High above the surf—
Finger-nails and toe-caps
Digging in the turf.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But Two and Two shall meet again
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
There’s an ancient dame in Eden—
Basket on her arm—
And she goes down the Main Street
From the old, old farm.
Hood drawn on her forehead—
Withered dame and grey—
She never looks on Boyd Tower
Out across the Bay.
Bright eyes in the ballroom,
Coquetting with two,
Just for love of mischief,
As a girl will do.
A quarrel in the bar-room—
All within the hour—
And four men rode from Boyd Town
To Ben Boyd’s Tower.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Better Off On Her Own
My girl came home to me just the other day, acting ok.
I was reading alone in my favourite room, the tv was on.
May I be excused for not telling the truth
cos shes gone, she said shes better off on her own.
She turned her head much better off on her own.
My girl knocked on the door to the place I usually refer to as home.
I died, shoelace untied she looked in my eyes, small and surprised.
And God closed every gaze the moon fell into the lake.
Boy, shes gone, a drift shes better off on her own.
She closed, then she left much better off on her own.
Sitting naked by the windowsill watching cars upon the hill.
Am I sleeping?
I was dreaming for just a moment time stood still.
Better off on her own, better off on her own.
Now shes gone, she said shes better of on her own.
She turned her head much better off on her own.
Shes gone, she sighed shes better of on her own.
The tears I cried much better off on her own.
My girl came home to me just the other day.
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revolving Doors
There was not a single stain in the horizon
When the svelte shadow of the dusk climbed,
Bulged, wrinkled and fulminated in a cloud
Shedding the unwanted downpour and
Feigning an ostensible slumber
And in this sedated quiescence, eyes opened
Eyes opened - to the cry of a thirsty child,
To the drifting lucid voices wafting with bodies,
To the chasing taillights and streetlamps,
To the maladroitly dangling pendulums,
To the unanchored claws of crows and doves,
To the final page written with ink blots;
Eyes opened to the myriad reasons
Why doors opened and closed -
For the undoing and departing
For consigning and contriving
To the earthly gods and beacons
That girdled us with hopeful unrealities
Eyes opened to accommodate the coming
Batted an eyelash to find them departing,
Curled softly then bloomed like a moonflower
Riveted in the unclosed door with chaste hopes
Eyes opened to these trivial veracities:
In these calloused world where the hinges
Are the only ones that stays in its place
We will meet again, caught in revolving doors
And eyes will open to second chances
And close to sleep with disappointments and regrets.
poem by Norman Santos
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I Am The Pretty Girl-Chapter Two
By junior year I was feeling pretty lonely
and I went to this party
where all the pretty girls go
so I had to go and everything
there were boys there from the college.
boys I didn't see very often
mature boys
and I was curious
especially about the one named Josh;
he seemed nice
I had watched him from the time I arrived.
but more important
he seemed to have confidence about himself
in a way I wished I had confidence in my self.
I openly looked at him
caught his eye
letting him know girl-way
I liked him
miracle of all miracles he understood my look-
closed his eyes and started across the room toward me
a gentle smile on his face, growing as he drew near.
I was thrilled as I felt him before he even got close to me,
he had something which made me feel weak
a bit frightened but very excited.
Directly in front of me now
I gave him my blank stare
as he towered above me
and I
suddenly realizing
that all eyes were upon us.
To have a college boy interested in you
was the height
the room stood still
as he pivoted to stand
beside me
like we already knew
each other and everything
I could hear little gasps of surprise because
my girls friends thought that we
somehow
did know each other.
He stood there beside me
watching everyone in the room watch us
then he took my hand
slowly into his,
a soft touch,
just a soft touch
not an aggressive touch
and whispered
'Act casual and we can just cruise on out of here
You go first-I will cover you.'
He made me laugh and in that moment I relaxed.
Josh had the ability to make me laugh from the very start.
I took his hand and led him toward a side door
into what was a small garden
with sliding glass doors
so everyone could see us
but not hear us.
I was so relieved to be out of there
and he was too I guess.
He chuckled,
still holding my hand
finally saying;
'I am never going to let go of your hand
ever.'
I looked at him sideways
and he burst out laughing
'Well I will let go sometime
but not before you give me
one of your beautiful smiles.'
Involuntarily I did give him a big smile-
he made me smile,
and then with that smile still on my face
he slowly took his hand from mine
and placed his finger tips on my lips.
The entire room behind those glass doors
gave a hushed gasp
I could almost hear;
from my corner eye
I could see
see heads swirling
as people did double-takes
looking at us.
Then for the first time
in a long time
I felt like the pretty girl
a real pretty girl
thinking if Josh was
or was not going to be the one
to whom I would lose my virginity to.
The thought made me blush.
To be Continued
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Round Room
My room is round when I lay down, when I wake up it's square
When I go outside it's on a spiral set of stairs
The people that surround me are waiting out there
In a round room they can't find me anywhere
Right angle rooms drive me crazier each day
Put me in a box I know I'm never going to play
Put me in a square room and I won't know what to say
I want a round room at the end of the day
I had an apartment, four corners on the walls
Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep there at all
I want a curve to the place where I stay
I want a round room at the end of the day
If I pass out take me to the round church
Where echoes resound
And my spirit is found
And when I float high
Take my arm and I'll fly you by
The outskirts of town, to a garden that's round
I went to the lighthouse and I liked the view
I looked out the window and I could see you
Put me in a square house and I won't have a clue
I want a round room just to be with you
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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