Skies of Birth
the world
opens and closes
like incarnations
so swift it sweeps you over
with not a single thought
of what you really are or would be
sins open skies of birth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
Your grief....
Your grief for what youve lost holds a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look and instead,
here's the joyful face youve been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expand
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.
Your grief....
Your grief for what youve lost holds a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look and instead,
here's the joyful face youve been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expand
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.
There Is Something In Us Always
there is something in us always
that closes and opens like fingers
there is something inside that watches
for love, and waits, and anticipates,
something that feels home, and
goggles for familiarity, and when it
finds it, it opens so confidently,
unmindful of any pain, expectant
of the excitement, promised and
betrayed, and mourning, and then
there is something in us that closes,
no matter what, it is still closed,
despite the death of time, it still
closes upon itself, curling, thickening
unwilling, wanting to die, but couldn't.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The Lord Closes The Door
(kinky friedman & jeff shelby)
When i find myself alone in my house and in my head
And i blow the candles out and i take myself to bed
And i'm old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
When sleep closes my eyes and sends me searching for you
And i'm feelin' blue as the sky without your love to carry me through
And i'm weak enough to be afraid but strong enough to let it show.
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
Baby i'm a gypsy boy, i'll ride the night until
I come to you like moonlight through your raggle-taggle window sill.
When you find yourself alone in your house and in your head
And you blow the candles out and you take yourself to bed
And you're old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Lord Closes The Door (He Opens A Little Window)
(kinky friedman & jeff shelby)
When I find myself alone in my house and in my head
And I blow the candles out and I take myself to bed
And Im old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
When sleep closes my eyes and sends me searching for you
And Im feelin blue as the sky without your love to carry me through
And Im weak enough to be afraid but strong enough to let it show.
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
Baby Im a gypsy boy, Ill ride the night until
I come to you like moonlight through your raggle-taggle window sill.
When you find yourself alone in your house and in your head
And you blow the candles out and you take yourself to bed
And youre old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wheel Of Life Goes On and On
People keep coming
To the world
People keep leaving
The world
Birth and death
Are common to all
Life’s window opens
For one
Closes for the other
Tears flow and
Everybody remember
The one who has gone
Welcomes the one
Who’s new amongst them?
With smile and laughter
Wheel of life goes
On and on
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Black Bird Winging Its Way Inward
that early morning
the door opens and you
hear the rush of steps
going out of the house
the gate opens and
closes once again
and you
find yourself enclosed
in your freedom
of thought again
transforms into a black
bird
stretching its wings
to the breasts of dawn
and then
without so much hesitation
fly away again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Need For Redemption
the world opens a door
lets you in
makes you feel at home
and gives you love
and you give it children
it wants itself
populated and that is
what it only
wants from you and once
the progeny are
there the reality comes
in batches of
sorrows and
regrets and then the world
having taken what it
wants from you, soon,
excludes you
it closes the door
takes away air, chokes you
and then
you are gone for good
the world opens its doors
again
to populate itself with
innocent people
fooled into desire and lust
and then
finally expurgated into
the depths of
hell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Freedom....
when i am no longer thinking
about what you think about what i think
when i am on my own way
when our roads cross and there is no light
when at the junction
the die is cast and we take the risks
without worrying about what happens next
because we know
what shall be taken and what shall be given
when the silence becomes understandable
when talk is noise
when i defend you from the outrages of the other
even if you do not ask for it
when i finally go and find my own way
confident about what i want in my own life
when the heart opens
and when the mind closes upon the needs of
the self
when the fingers open
to the skies
when i close my mouth
stop gritting my teeth
when i finally let go
what you left and when i do not notice anymore
how time moves
i guess
not anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The lute is still in hands it’ll break
Unless the world opens up for me
The lute is still my breath it’ll take
In blasts of wind Eol’s heart will be
Unless the paths are walked in a seal
Unless the seals are open in a quest
Unless the pain is open for a heal
Unless the heart finds a place to rest
The lute is still in hands it’ll break
Unless the world opens up for me
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Single Day
Not a single day goes by..........
Where she is not in his thoughts
Not a single day goes by..........
Where his heart does not feel
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not want to reach out
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he dreams of his love for her
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not dream of kissing her
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not dream of holding her
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not ask. Why?
Not a single day goes by..........
Where she is not his first thought on waking.
Not a single day goes by..........
Where she is not his last thought before sleeping.
Not a single day goes by..........
RG/NB
poem by Robert Green
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The Silent Hardworker
he arrives
one hour before the desired time
opens the door himself
without his aide
opens his computer
and tunes in for
some jazzy music
then to something
classical
he goes to the sofa
takes the pillow
and lays his head and
then he closes his eyes
this he does
privately inside
his office.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Trapped In A Box
Trapped in a box of tremendous size
It distorts my vision, it closes my eyes
Attracts filthy flies and pollutes in the skies
Sucks up our lives and proliferates lies
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box, four walls as sky
Got a screen for a window about two feet wide
My mind rides and slides as my circuits are fried
No room for thought, use the box as my guide
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To lifes paradox
Were all trapped in a box
Trapped in a box Im not alone
I know of others with a box as their home
Light only enters from a crack or a hole
This is not enough for a human to grow
Trapped in a box
Chorus: always wanting a different view
Instant gratification for you
Reality gone in a single click
Just hope that that switch wont stick
Trapped in a box my life becomes void
All I thought for myself is now destroyed
Controlling my mind, what to eat, what to buy
Sublinal rules: how to live, how to die
Trapped in a box
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Assume
assume that things always
wait for you with all stability
these inanimates
if you think clearly has
a lesson for us to tell:
the table no matter
how tired still stands
on its four legs
the chair no matter
how problematic
its life is
still manages to
hold your bottom
the bed no matter
what happens
even if it has some
problems taking
its much needed sleep
still accommodates
your tired body and
makes itself available
for you and your
little darlings
the windows no matter
what the weather is
still clings to the walls
it closes when it rains
and opens when it
gets too hot
the door opens and
closes when someone
from your family arrives
and departs to some
places
they do not ask questions
they perform their duties
and they never complain
until they are finally broken
and then you throw them
away or replace them
i suppose they are more
stable and uncomplaining.
why can't we be like them
less our capacity for feeling?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Into The Great Wide Open
Eddie waited till he finished high school
He went to hollywood, got a tattoo
He met a girl out there with a tattoo too
The future was wide open
They moved into a place they both could afford
He found a nightclub he could work at the door
She had a guitar and she taught him some chords
The sky was the limit
Into the great wide open,
Under them skies of blue
Out in the great wide open,
A rebel without a clue
The papers said ed always played from the heart
He got an agent and a roadie named bart
They made a record and it went in the charts
T he sky was the limit
His leather jacket had chains that would jingle
They both met movie stars, partied and mingled
Their a&r man said I dont hear a single
The future was wide open
Into the great wide open,
Under them skies of blue
Out in the great wide open,
A rebel without a clue
Into the great wide open,
Under them skies of blue
Into the great wide open,
A rebel without a clue
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Open Door
People go out from my life.
A person lives a door open in my heart.
But God is there to fall it out in my heart.
People open a door to enter in my life.
But they not know as well as god knows me.
Some people don't want to open door for me.
But god is will to come in.
Person closes the door and I feel sad.
But god is there to make me happy.
But god opens all of them.
poem by Guadalupe Cruz
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The Endless World Of Words Opens Again
THE ENDLESS RIVER OF WORDS OPENS AGAIN
The endless river of words opens again
And once more it becomes possible
To say on endlessly
The dreams we can see before our eyes
When we open them to the morning light
Or the darkest deepest sky of star- filled night.
All is open again to wonder
And there can be a hope
Which means
Survival alone is not what Life is all about
But instead also
The countless small beauties one sees everywhere
When one knows how to look.
There is a world after all
Outside oneself
And that world described
Can too be a poem -
And every reality take on its own meaning
And Beauty be in so many seen and said things
That life in joy becomes possible and poetry again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Hope You Miscarry
A very dark rewrite of Leeann Womack's I hope You Dance
I hope you never feel that sense of wonder
You get to see other women happy with theirs but never hold one of your own
May your unborn babe never take one single breath of life
God forbid love ever bless you
I hope you feel so small and empty that you long only to throw yourself into the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope no other ever opens
Promise me that you'll quit giving your pregnancy a fighting chance
And when the choice to give life or to miscarry comes along
I hope you miscarry....I hope you miscarry
I hope you always fear those nightmares in the distance
Always settle for the path of least resistance
Givin' birth might mean takin' chances
Chances you know you're just not worthy of takin'
Havin' that baby would only be a mistake
A mistake you have the choice not to be makin'
Don't let some Hell bent husband try to tell you any better
When you come close to deciding to keep your baby reconsider
Give the heavens above an angel to mother than you ever could
And when you get the choice to give birth or miscarry
I hope you miscarry...I hope you miscarry
I hope you miscarry...I hope you miscarry
Life is a constant emotion always running us down
Tell me why do you wanna look back and regret the years of lost youth that your baby will steal from you
I hope you feel so small and empty that all you long to do is throw yourself in the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope no other ever opens
Promise me that you'll quit giving your pregnancy a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to give life or to miscarry
Miscarry...I hope you miscarry
I hope you miscarry...
I hope you miscarry...
I hope you miscarry...
I hope you miscarry....
Life is a constant emotion always running us down
Tell me why do you wanna look back and regret the years of lost youth that your baby will steal from you
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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My Mind Is An Oyster
The heart, can only be as open as the mind.
The mind, the creator of my world.
Not the world, but my world.
The mind, building walls.
Walls of fear, resentment and bitterness.
The spirit is trapped.
Bouncing from heart to mind.
Like a ping pong ball.
For it is my mind that is closed.
I listened to the teachings of other closed minded teachers.
They speak of a peace, they do not have.
The preach of a love, that they still seek.
The world is my oyster.
My mind is an oyster.
To find the pearl, the shell must first open up.
It is once the mind opens, I can connect to the source.
The source that tells me I am the true treasure.
I see so many closed shells.
For their pearl is as brilliant as mine.
But through the closed shell it cannot be seen.
They do not know they are just as rich as I.
So they try to take mine, because their shell is too difficult to open.
My shell is open.
I do not want your treasure for myself,
I have my own.
I am content.
I want your shell to open,
I want you and the world to see the brilliance of yours.
For it is when the mind opens,
Your true life will begin.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Mechanism Of Life
He was a handsome soldier, respectful and rich,
And lived a charmed life, without a single glitch.,
But life is an endless labyrinth, with temptations at every turn,
Put a leash around your desires or let your insides churn
The soldier gave in and stepped into the abyss,
Someone was keeping a count of his sins, he knew not of this.
He set in motion the wheels of a concept of great antiquity,
A mechanism created by a superior entity.
He lived a great life, satisfying every urge,
And finally the skies opened its gate for him, as the mortals sang his dirge.
At the gates of heaven, he was told his sins were far too great,
So his dreams of living in heaven for now, had to wait
He was sent back stripped off his memories, new birth, new life,
To struggle as a tramp, No elation only strife.
Not in a position to do any good, he was forced to steal,
Not a roof above his head, no clothes not a single meal.
He starved to death and left the world unheard,
At the gates of heaven he was a wounded bird.
Sent back as an ant, because of the sins he had committed,
His undying love for emancipation, still unrequited.
Without purpose, without thought, trapped in a body so incapable,
He knew no difference between good and evil, the blankness in its head was inescapable.
It wandered aimlessly along with its clan,
To finally be crushed under the foot of a man.
Thus the poor soldier who once fought for his nation,
Suffered for eternity and never achieved salvation.
Every man makes a mistake and no one is here to stay,
Everybody gets punished, the mechanism is built that way.
It leaves a man to rot without a dime,
In a different life, unaware of his crime.
For what attaches a man to his life are his memories,
Without it, he learns nothing, lost are his past glories.
A few men tried to warn us, through words, a dictum,
About this absurd cycle that continues, ad infinitum.
poem by SaviorsLavish Human
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