The Old Man alone in his room
He doesn't like to talk
just sits quietly
never smiles or laughs.
Won't join in any of the games,
eats his meals in his room
leaves his tray outside the door.
Next to his bed is a black and white
photograph of a man in uniform.
In a drawer lie medals covered by socks,
bravery hidden away.
He can hear laughter outside his room
as he stares out of his window at a dark cold sky.
When the sun shines he likes to feed the birds,
a squirrel takes food from his outstretched hand.
One day his tray isn't outside the door,
outside a lone squirrel waits.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Squirrel Said
The Squirrel said.
'Attention all! '
He stands tall.
On a wooden fence,
in suspense.
Their Squirrel Head,
Their squirrel said,
'My nuts are gone,
My nuts are gone! '
Did you check under your bed?
Another squirrel joking said,
'Of course I did! ' the squirrel said,
'I am the Squirrel head'.
Maybe you forgot you've ate,
Autumn now, it's not too late,
Just look for more, Squirrel Head,
An elderly wise squirrel said.
Welcome To The Door Of Freedom
this is the door of freedom
you just got in
i have a room beyond this room
no one has entered yet
between this door and my room
is a space
this is where some pieces of my are left
but soon they will be taken back
to be kept inside my palms
to be hidden once again from you
when you get in
you will be introduced to the ritual of knowing
what you do not know
what you cannot know
what shall be hidden forever from you
and you shall be a little bit
disappointed
but you must insist
you have to repeat your name many times
you will sort out the letters
there are onions and chilies
they will make you cry
and then you will wish upon another door
this time it is your door
towards your own room
you will doubt about breathing
about windows and exits
and then you begin to ask
if all these are worth it
you decide.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Food
There's a ghost in my fridge I hear a hum
When I open the door there is no one
No matter how hard I look
There's nothing there except some food long time cooked
Happiness can come in many ways
Mine's a cold beer on the second tray.
For I daren't touch the food you see
Its got hair all over it and growls at me.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Allegory Of The Cycle Of Doors
and so there is this door that appears before you
and you open it
and then when you enter the room
another door appears
this is the cycle of doors that keep on appearing and you
keep on opening
but the room still appears from a distance
always distant
from your eager feet to enter
you say to enter the room i must please the door
but the room moves away just the same
and the door tells you
to keep the room
you have to burn it and when the room is burned
the door finally disappears
and then both the door and the room shall tell you
now be happy
for you now have a house of your own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I sit alone...
I sit alone
In this cold dark room
No windows no doors
Just icy cold air
I live alone
In this cold dark room
No family no friends
Just loneliness to share
I stay alone
In this cold dark room
No voices no sounds
Just nobody to care
I probe alone
In this cold dark room
In my mind in my world
Just a room filled with despair
I roam alone
In this cold dark room
No way in no way out
Just a worn but rigid snare
I rust alone
In this cold dark room
Not because there is no other way
Just because its easier that way....
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Dark..
I sit alone
In this cold dark room
No windows no doors
Just icy cold air
I live alone
In this cold dark room
No family no friends
Just loneliness to share
I stay alone
In this cold dark room
No voices no sounds
Just nobody to care
I probe alone
In this cold dark room
In my mind in my world
Just a room filled with despair
I roam alone
In this cold dark room
No way in no way out
Just a worn but rigid snare
I rust alone
In this cold dark room
Not because there is no other way
Just because its easier that way....
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passing The Time
By ginger baker and mike taylor
It is a cold winter,
Away is the songbird.
And gone is her traveller,
She waits at home.
The sun is on holiday,
No leaves on the trees.
The animals sleep
While cold north wind blows.
The snowflakes are falling,
The roof a white blanket.
Theres ice on the window pane,
She waits alone.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Her children are sleeping,
She waits in their home.
Passing the time.
Passing the time.
Everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, wine and time rhyme.
Passing the time.
It is a long winter,
Away is the summer.
She waits for her traveller
So far from home.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Theres ice on the window,
Shes lonely alone.
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passing The Time
By ginger baker and mike taylor
It is a cold winter,
Away is the songbird.
And gone is her traveller,
She waits at home.
The sun is on holiday,
No leaves on the trees.
The animals sleep
While cold north wind blows.
The snowflakes are falling,
The roof a white blanket.
Theres ice on the window pane,
She waits alone.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Her children are sleeping,
She waits in their home.
Passing the time.
Passing the time.
Everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, wine and time rhyme.
Passing the time.
It is a long winter,
Away is the summer.
She waits for her traveller
So far from home.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Theres ice on the window,
Shes lonely alone.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gods Little Forest Creatures
(10/01/11)
All that she knew was that it was a snowy day
And she was in a horse pulled sleigh
The blanket was covering her
From her knees to her feet.
The thermo of hot chocolate was such a treat.
The frozen lake, the snow covered trees
Was truly a sight to be seen.
the birds high up in the trees
Whistling so cheerfully
Singing songs of summers past
And how the winter came so fast.
The ground hog not wanting to come out
He knew well what winter was about.
The ground was covered in a blanket of white
All roads and paths were out of sight.
That did not stop this horse pulled sleigh
He had gone thru this many a day.
He had a covered barn that awaited him
That was the reason he had a grin.
The animals were frantically searching for food
The possums, the raccoons, the rabbits
And The squirrels too.
With one purpose in mind
And that was to stay alive.
As she got to where they were gathered
She pulled out from under her blanket
A five pound bag of peanuts and seed
for her to feed - these poor
Little creatures who always came around
When there was no food to be found.
She was the snow white of this land
Always there to give a hand.
So when you see a squirrel stop and stand
on its hind legs, it’s to see if it is their snow white
Who helped them on this cold winter night.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Dog Tray
THE morn of life is past,
And ev'ning comes at last;
It brings me a dream of a once happy day,
Of merry forms I've seen
Upon the village green,
Sporting with my old dog Tray.
Chorus: Old dog Tray's ever faithful; Grief cannot drive him away; He's gentle, he is kind, I'll never, never find A better friend than old dog Tray.
The forms I called my own
Have vanish'd one by one,
The lov'd ones, the dear ones have all pass'd away;
Their happy smiles have flown,
Their gentle voices gone,
I've nothing left but old dog Tray.
Chorus.
When thoughts recall the past,
His eyes are on me cast,
I know that he feels what my breaking heart would say;
Although he cannot speak,
I'll vainly, vainly seek
A better friend than old dog Tray.
Chorus.
poem by Stephen C. Foster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Dark Small Room
cold dark small room
locked door, no more food
three little children, left here to play
fend for yourself is what he'd say
no light for days, no food for weeks
time has come to have our treat
play by the rules is what he'd say
then we would eat and bathe
cold dark small room
how I miss your solitude
wish I could wish I might
find some peace warm tonight
poem by Jeannie Schmidt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cats
Cats, who needs them?
My cat sleeps all day and leaves the house in the evening,
but before going it changes from an indolent being that
likes to be stroked to a cooler creature that prefers to be
left alone; it treats me as a tiresome stranger and waits
for me to open the door. Should I be outside and see it,
the cat acts as if it doesn’t know me and runs away if I call
its name. In the morning it waits for me to open the door
to let it in, a jovial feline that gently curls up on the sofa
But there are nights when it is raining, or windy when it
doesn’t want to go out then it likes to sit on my desk just
watching me use the key board on the computer, often it
walks on the board wondering what it is about. But I can’t
bring myself to be as rude to the cat as it often is to me...
like I should be its bloody slave.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Room
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
Spa noo na naho
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spa noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na nehhey
Spa noo na nehhey
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
[more spa na noo ne na noo things]
Talk to me, talk to me
If you want to know the things we see
Then step inside our skins
The white room, the white room
We spin, we turn, watch and wait
As the world just creeps on bye
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
Talk to me, talk to me
Far below, a small boat sails,
Catching fish from the sea.
The white room, the white room
We climb the mountain,
Feel the wind,
We climbed to touch the stars.
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cindy's Nightout
she likes her hair
red and her skin
pale
not jibing with
moonlight
big white flowers
hang in her room
a black pumpkin
with white leaves
has two rats ready
for her dreams
obviously she believes
in Cinderella
obviously she is waiting
for the fairy godmother
to do the magic
when she decides finally
to spend her night out
looking for her prince
wanting to fulfill her dreams
you might notice
she is already ready
all day she practiced
walking with only one shoe
she runs and laughs at the same time
inside her black room
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disappointed for M lady Ernestine
The Jackdaws are excitedly
feasting on the cast away
remains of someone’s takeaway.
Discarded by them thoughtlessly.
They’re squabbling vociferously
as they jostle for the best place
and very soon there is no trace
of the feast provided free.
The plastic tray is now quite clean,
then they fly off in search of more
It is as if the food had never been.
But one latecomer lone jackdaw
examines the now empty tray.
Squawks his disgust and flies away.
8-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a fellow poet
What can I give you –
for only giving can I think of,
in this dark season of the year
which needs no festive name, to name the need…
this dark season, when hearts yearn
for all that’s bright, and warm, and love..
what can I give you, at this time?
I give you – music… music, heard
outside the heart’s dark winter door
to say, that all’s not lost; all’s never lost;
there’s music still and always, through the door…
you’ll hear, and know yourself to be that all…
I give you – laughter… laughter, on the face
of strangers, as you open that dark door;
strangers who laughing turn to you
and share their laughter and a proffered hand;
a room of laughter shared with you, illusions laughed away…
As poet gives to poet, these I give you;
they are – but poetry;
as poetry, may live.
*
[occasioned by discussion of ‘the three persons’ in poetry:
the confessional poetry of ‘I’;
the poetry that speaks and gives to ‘you’;
and the poetry of he, she, it, they – of universal truth..]
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Dark Room
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
no windows
no doors
icy cold air
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
i live alone
in this cold dark room
no family
no friends
no life to share
i live alone
in this cold dark room
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
no voices
no sounds
no one does care
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
no way out
no way in
but i dont care
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
i live alone
in this cold dark room
in my mind
in my world
i dont want to share
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
because
it's easier that way
poem by Austin Beyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Dark Room
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
no windows
no doors
icy cold air
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
i live alone
in this cold dark room
no family
no friends
no life to share
i live alone
in this cold dark room
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
no voices
no sounds
no one does care
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
no way out
no way in
but i dont care
i sit alone
in this cold dark room
i live alone
in this cold dark room
in my mind
in my world
i dont want to share
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
i stay alone
in this cold dark room
because
it's easier that way
poem by Sandy Nobody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Final Preparation....
leaves, just beginning to turn,
and the silent shout of rust
deafens the empty room.
bare feet leave no tracks in gravel,
yet the birds' wings scar the sky
as they begin their journey.
the plow sits motionless weeping,
the skillet whistles to the fire.
a squirrel sits atop the woodpile,
the mountains' breathing become labored.
and the wind packs its few belongings,
tips a hat to my shadowed soul.
as we begin the long journey,
the final preparation for beginning!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No-Name The Cat
The cat and I stare at the room
No-name the cat, the cat and I,
She stares at me, I at the gloom
The house lies still as a vaulted tomb.
She sits and waits, No-name the cat,
Sits and waits for a sign from me
But I in the corner chair am sat
And make no sign for No-name the cat.
We’re all alone, alone are we
No-name the cat, the cat and I
Only the two, No-name and me
Yet once in the past we numbered three.
Now on the floor, between us two
No-name the cat, and me, lies you.
Your eyes are staring, your cheek is slack,
Your tongue’s thrust out and your face is blue.
The cat and I stare at the room
No-name the cat, the cat and I,
She stares at me, I at the gloom
The house lies still as a vaulted tomb.
30 June 1999
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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