Left To Go Untouched
Sometimes I wish I had been less obstinate.
With a readiness to be more subdued.
I often reminisce about this.
But then I think of it from time to time,
With a knowing that it took a willingness to stay put.
Right where I found myself.
Even if I hated every moment of it.
And let those circumstances be what they will be.
I have discovered that a tearing down of a brick wall,
Usually leaves the one behind it left to go untouched.
Without chips, scratch marks or blood stains on it.
Today...
I look for a door to knock on.
And if it's locked...
It's locked!
Why dropp tears?
Or spend time wasted thinking of doors,
When I can get up to make one.
And...
Put my own lock on it to open or close as I choose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I lock the door
I lock the door.
Thinking what the heck.
I havent nothing left to live for.
I have noubt left to give.
I simply cannot forgive.
I locked the door.
Shutting the rest of the world out.
Knowing it'll be over soon.
I locked the door.
Taking the razor to my wrist.
And cut my throat.
As the blood spurts out.
It'll be over soon.
As they break down the door.
It's to late now.
I've gone.
Im dead.
And this time you couldnt stop me.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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When started somewhere with
that time i locked the door solely
to confirm between four walls,
that time dreams of aims evolved
sterile in my tiring eyes,
that time shuddering to different
masks hidding my face under a blanket,
that time i fought with
black tears,
that time when books were thrown
over my face,
that time daylights suggesting been
'soporific',
midnights suffocating, 'this day over',
'again is the same day',
that time i had been left all myself,
i stretched to this time,
'fate is a gambler,
time is no exilir,
life is my only teacher'!
to this time pen here
in my hand is howling louder
than someone knocking on that locked door
that time!
to this time hope in the wombs
of hatred thy inspired, pacifying
a time in my time!
poem by Swetha Vvr
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Behind closed doors
Doors made of steel
others made of wood
life going on behind them
things that are bad and good.
Doors that are always closed
while some are forever open wide
behind doors can lie secrets
and where people can go to hide.
A door opened to a new future
another one blocking your way
families at war behind the door
but where children can happily play.
Prisoners locked in behind solid doors
waiting for the key to turn in the lock
as lonely people sit in their homes
waiting for someone just to knock.
The doors of Gold created in Heaven
only opened for the chosen few
behind them lies an eternal life
but will they open for me or you?
poem by Kevin Halls
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Behind That Locked Door
(harrison)
Why are you still crying
Your pain is now through
Please forget those teardrops
Let me take them from you
The love you are blessed with
This worlds waiting for
So let out your heart, please, please
From behind that locked door
Its time we start smiling
What else should we do
With only this short time
I know to be here with you
And the tales you have taught me
From the things that you saw
Makes me want out your heart, please, please
From behind that locked door
And wherever my love goes
If Im rich or Im poor
Please let out my heart, please, please
From behind that locked door
From behind that locked door
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind That Locked Door
Why are you still crying?
Your pain is now through
Please forget those teardrops
Let me take them from you
The love you are blessed with
This worlds waiting for
So let out your heart, please, please
From behind that locked door
Its time we start smiling
What else should we do?
With only this short time
Im gonna be here with you
And the tales you have taught me
From the things that you saw
Makes me want out your heart, please, please
From behind that locked door
And if ever my love goes
If Im rich or Im poor
Please let out my heart, please, please
From behind that locked door
From behind that locked door
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Danger
[Intro]
The brotha's got this complex occupation
The brotha's got this complex occupation
The brotha's got this complex occupation
[Verse 1]
Me and this baby
Gon' be up all night long
Walkin this wood flo'
'Till my man gets home
I'm at the front do'
I'm listening by the phone
But I'm gon' be here
With my make-up on
I'ts been a long time
Since my man been gone
But when he get here
You know I won't be gone
Because I love him
Love him strong (N'Dambi)
Me and this baby
Gon' be up all night long
[Chorus 2x]
Because they got the block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Talking
What she say?
I said,
Block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
[Verse 2]
Got a box of money
That I keep under my bed
But we don't spend it though
Might need it for more Yeyo
We need this money
Just in case we need to
Make a run
Gotta keep the clip in mama's gun
Or run...
We like to keep the car runnin'
We try to keep the bitch humin'
In case the sweeper boyz are comin'
Runnin' runnin', We like to keep the car runnin'
We try to keep the bitch humin'
In case the sweeper boyz are comin'
Runnin' runnin'
[Chorus 2x]
Because they got the block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Well there ain't no mistaken
That the money you'
song performed by by Erykah Badu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Locked
Children tattooed, pierced and studded, dreadlocked;
parents panicked, indecisive, deadlocked.
Mother to daughter: live as you must, if you must;
for just a bit longer, keep the door to your bed locked.
Son to father: teach me what you know,
but I won't agree to keep the door to my head locked.
Mother to father: where have you been, and where
have you kept your thoughts and all you might have said locked?
They'd come so far, and then she saw, in him,
the door to their life, their home, their daily bread locked.
One night in a fiery panic dream he ran
and found the door toward which he'd wildly fled locked.
Aging, but at long last ripe and ready,
she found the on-ramp to the road ahead locked.
They learned too late the cost of keeping that cellar
full of truths that could not be gainsaid locked.
The young return. Too many find the way back
to lives in the country for which they fought and bled locked.
Eric, old friend, as you try each door in the mind,
will you wake one day to find the heart instead locked?
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Stop Your Complaining
Come here and listen!
You can pretend to ignore.
But leave your ears open.
Close your mouth.
Those eyes?
You can roll them as before.
It 'may' look as if doors are being shut.
But they aren't,
Not at all!
Those opportunities,
That once knocked at them?
Are in your mind...
Where you have kept them stored!
That's where they have always been.
You were the one to let them out!
And you will bring them back in,
Again!
So don't believe what is being locked out,
Means for your tears to descend.
Those doors needed to close on you,
Anyway!
To allow greater things for you to happen!
Now is the time to test your faith!
Not to wallow in despair,
And welcome heartbreak!
Snap out of limitations.
Explore new avenues you can take!
At least stop your complaining.
A difference only you can make!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Locked
locked, locked, locked
you've been locking your heart
knock, knock, knock
I just can knock in your head
to make you realize that I'm with you
stop, stop, stop
stop acting like that
hope, hope, hope
I hope you find love
that free you
there's so much things to be said and to do
there's so much moments you'll be missing to
but you don't want to answer, what can I do
if you still lock your
heart, heart
nothing can be
no, no, no
I won't leave you alone
round, round, round
always hanging around
to make you realize that you've been loved to
there's so much things to be said and to do
there's so much moments you'll be missing to
but you don't want to answer, what can I do
if you still lock your
heart, heart
nothing can be
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Time Passes
Time is passing while I am waiting
For true life to have some meaning-
Time is passing and I blindly
Count to ten upon my fingers-
Not knowing and not even able to distinguish
What is real from what is not?
One, two, three and the voices inside me won't stop commanding-
Four, five and six-
All I see are snakes within the bleakness and confinement of this room-
Seven, eight, and nine, and even through this dim light I believe I am being watched-
I count aloud to ten upon my fingers and
Time is passing and all that is all that I hear for the moment-
All that I see, I reach out to touch or to open my eyes to see-
Time has passed and everything is silent, without a trace of
Ever being near and once more I count,
Starting at seven, eight and then nine- watching the second hand on the wall clock and
Ten? Ten more hours to be locked inside of this empty, room where
The walls are barren and I am alone with my thoughts-
Time is passing and I would be running away, but there is nowhere to run to, except to
Places inside of my mind and one, two three and all that I see is
The walls of this empty room and a locked door-
I could count from one to a thousand and
Inside of this room I would remain- I could count to one million and
I would die before I even got there- so I count from one to three over and over because
Everything is seemingly easier when I am lost inside the world of my fantasies and
I realize now what is not truly real and threatening shall never harm me and
Time is passing and as I count, I am blissfully losing myself inside the world
I have made here inside of my mind for myself, alone…
This way time may pass even before the sun rises tomorrow, and then-and then?
My life perhaps shall have some meaning-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Minted and crowned
Imagine if you can the greatest bank vault…
Ribbed door; heavier than any mountain wall.
Where no safecracker can by time lock default:
Gain access… The glorious treasures enthrall.
Doors with a time lock, on all deposits…
One, once you enter, there’s nothing to be found.
No jewels, paper money, or trinkets
Just your own coinage minted and crowned.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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The Secret Door
The Mystery
Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?
In my mother’s flat there were three doors, the first door,
with an old fashion copper handle, often slammed in anger.
The second door into mother’s bed room was never closed,
but covered with a dark curtain. A small flat I slept on a sofa
in the living room.
There was a third door, from her bedroom into the kitchen.
Sometimes when mother was out, I tried to open it but it was
always locked. There were nights when I wasn’t sure if awake
or not, the locked door opened as a sigh of ancient dreams.
Dawn, I heard the faint sound again, but I was too terrified to
know the truth of what I wasn’t sure of
Morning, mother got up boiled water poured it into a bowl so
I could wash my face. Breakfast, slices of yesterday’s loaf with
strawberry jam and milky coffee. I wanted to know of the sighs
in the night, but sensed it was forbidden to ask.
Time has many doors some will be forever locked, so I ask?
Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Doors Are Locked
From inside of this room
I shall not exit
I have locked the doors
To the world outside.
It does not matter to me what is happening outside, because
Behind these locked doors
Is the world that I live in,
This land of my dreams that
I have fabricated for myself alone.
I recall my father recently reading me a story-
Of a woman who created a world within her dreams-
There she lived and locked herself
Inside of the doors that
Barred her from all that is real.
My father's hope was that
I would find my way out from
This place he called the land of my delusions.
This place which he calls the land of my delusions has become
My only veracity.
From the inside of this room
I shall not exit-it is here I safely converse with
The voices inside of my mind.
The doors to this room are locked, but
I can still hear my mother weeping, and
I hear my mother cry out from the midst of her tears-
What has become of my only child?
Inside of this room, I have constructed a world.
The doors are locked and
I have shut reality out-
The doors to my room are locked and
I have lost the key.
My mother is still weeping as her one and only
Has lost the key that would open the doors
To the world outside-
My mother is sobbing; the key is lost and alas-
Her only child's sanity has also been lost.
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Doors Opened And Closed
Our God can open any door, making things better than before,
That last place in which He chose, to permit that door to close.
He takes us on a chosen path, through that uncertain aftermath,
Working out all for our good, doing for us what we never could.
Nothing can hinder God at all, no matter how big, or how small,
He, who moves the heart of a king, is not hindered by anything.
God always works in His time, a schedule that is so unlike mine,
As God deals with me faithfully, I need to wait on God patiently.
Seeing no doors opened now, I must not question why or how?
As all doors still seem closed, to see what is not yet disclosed,
When I do not understand, knowing His heart, I see God’s hand.
As it may be a time for me to wait, while God’s help I anticipate.
Some doors are closed to stay, and inaccessible to our dismay,
Forced out of a comfort zone, but, we’re not forced to go alone,
Moved by God’s plan instead, guided by Grace, to move ahead,
And in His Grace, strength we find, to leave familiar ways behind.
Whether doors are closed or left ajar, in your earthly life thus far,
God will always open one for us, when in Him we place our trust,
And believers need not to despair, as our Lord shall always care,
For each one of us until we see, the Glorious Door up in Eternity.
(Copyright ©09/2009)
As You Humiliate Yourself
you volunteer to shrink a little bit
like a rotten pumpkin to
let her know that you also know how to die
and find a way to reach her
in her own death.
you let go all that is fluid something that is liquid
you make these
turn to gas so you also have a way of telling her
that you also know how to disappear
she may close her eyes in anger because of you
she may like to abuse you and not talk to you as you gaze to find out
the reason why the stars are not out tonight
why there is not a single shining moon
you are so patient waiting like a fisherman with his bait
to catch a fish tonight
out there in the deep sea in desolation
you give her time to change and to understand your longing
for stars
your thirst for the light of the moon
it will be painful, you have humiliated yourself in all these
shrinking of your arms and hands
you become like a tiny dot in humility to the line of
bold letters and exclamation marks
you give up, you get out of the bed and stopped staring at the ceiling
you open the door of this cold room and you close it again
to leave her
still closing her eyes keeping her tears from falling.
it is over you say. it is over. it is too late. another door has been locked
and this time you do not wish anyone in.
a wise man sometimes likes to use
a period.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Asylum
My tears are blue,
My eyes, Purple, green and black-
Yours, I do not know the color of-
I may have met you before in some dark alley-
Your eyes are shut as you sleep- You, I do not know.
All eyes are upon me now- Orange, blue and yellow-
The sky is green and clouds are maudlin-
Blood falls from eyes of sorcerers,
Tears, blue as deep sea water- falling from my eyes,
My eyes are purple, green and black.
Trapped inside a place unknown-
Unknown to my spirit's heaven-
Locked inside this devil's paradise- I cannot fathom reality.
I weep blue tears, combining with the blood
Pouring from the ceiling so dank and dark-
Turning purple and magenta, in hue-
Your lips are red- red as rage,
My hair is dark and dark as is Satan's advocate's
Please somebody rescue me!
My tears are blue, my eyes,
Purple, green and black- the color of yours
Still remains a mystery- When shall you awaken?
Only in good time, my friend, only in good time-
The face of the clock on the wall is orange - Its hands lost in space-
I am lost and beside myself- while you sleep-
We are locked inside of an asylum- I heard-
You are sleeping, still as the locked door before us-
I wonder, are you dreaming or are your dreams turning to nightmares-?
My ears are ringing, I am blue- they just told me through the keyhole that
I am locked inside the world of my delusions?
Through your eyes I could read your thoughts but
Your eyes are closed as you sleep- and my eyes, are closed to the world.
Colors and more colors before me, my tears are blue,
I am blue-please release me from my pain.
I know I have been told in time I will be but the clock upon the wall
Has no feelings-just decorating this chamber of hell with
Its bright orange face as my blue tears fall
Onto the urine stained floors of this confinement-
My soul dissolves into nothingness, while blood drips from the ceiling-and
I wonder- do they make keys that unlock minds from the cells of their delusions?
Somebody just painted my world black and I am doomed to be trapped here
Forever…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Red, Blue, Green and Gold
Silence somehow has entered this room where
This morning laughter had filled, I hardly know what to say but
I can hear my own tears screaming aloud- even though
I cannot see them falling- Red, blue, green and gold- Just about any color I can
See decorating the four walls that enclose me- All I can do is look and
All I can do is to try and remember yesterday as being close to God-
Now the doors have been locked- the doors to those dreams that kept my spirit alive-
That window into a once vivid imagination- and now a curtain has fallen and
I have lost the key to that door that has become a wall that separates-
I have been in love with silence- Devoured solitude as if
It was the food that kept me alive-
I danced amongst carnations and yellow peace roses
Every moment I looked into the world of my hallucinations?
Yesterday was another day as will be tomorrow-
I am trying to live one day at a time- I once rode a bus towards eternity-
That has come to a roadblock I cannot bypass-
Red, blue, green and gold- only colors but all I have left-
Decorating the walls inside which I find myself imprisoned-
Listening to the music of my spirit, then collapsing as I
Once again fall into that cesspool of insanity that had once before contained me?
Fighting the memories of lying upon a urine stained carpet inside
A room so rudely called “seclusion? ”
Or walking about some nowhere land as I have wept tears and
Have abandoned faith, hope and a will to stay alive?
Locked doors and broken windows, clouds obstructing the sun-
I cannot find the right words to say- my heart has been buried and
I find myself lying still- drifting away into another world-
Trying to escape from such a place that has been deemed by others as reality?
No hope, but a prayer, moments lost have turned to years of
Never ending frustration and truth to me as I lose myself into
That world everyone identifies as delusive?
Voices that tell me they want me to die and now rain turns to ice as I
Slip and fall into never abating madness?
Red, blue, green and gold- vibrant colors that kept my soul alive?
Red, blue, green, and gold- have become none but futile and
Colors of that rainbow that is part of somebody else’s world-
Yesterday is another day as is tomorrow- and today-
Today I ride a bus that is speeding down a highway to nowhere-
Has just crashed and here I lie- staring at the ceiling
Breathing oxygen from a rubber mask counting from one to ten and -
Red, blue, green and gold – have become none but elements of my dreams-
As I lose myself in some other place and time has become none but an illusion?
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't spend a lot of time thinking of what they'll do musically, I try to imagine being locked into a windowless room with this person for twelve hours at a time. If you can look at that and think it might be fun then maybe you've got the right musician.
quote by Leo Kottke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Make The Weather
Heaven is a somewhere locked inside and I must find the key
Wish Id never locked the door
Ordinary things in life are where this heaven likes to be
Hold the sky, feet on the floor
Hold the sky, feet on the floor
We make our sun to shine
We make our space and time
We make the weather
We make it change
Hell is not somewhere but a state of mind I choose to be
When my faith in life has gone
Cruelty rebounds to hurt itself puts shackles on the free
Vicious circle carries on
Hold the sky, feet on the floor
We make our sun to shine
We make our space and time
We make the weather
We make it change
We make the weather
We make it change
Time to judge the act dont judge the actor of the circumstance
Time to free compassions world
Life is not the end were passing through like bubbles on the sea
Time to learn and time to mend
Hold the sky, feet on the floor
We make our sun to shine
We make our space and time
We make the weather
We made a change
We make the weather
We make a change
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time I Witnessed Others Wasted
Never had I wished,
For time I witnessed others wasted...
To say one day that I would miss.
I remember being serious,
To do better than my best.
And I remember letting no one,
Getting me upset enough...
To dropp my focus to perform their tests.
Never had I wished,
For time I witnessed others wasted...
To say one day that I would miss.
And today as I look back to reminisce,
My experiences...
I am so glad I prayed,
With a keeping of my faith that stays.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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