Hospital
Doors moan like lovers, as compassion flows
like sick over scrubbed floors.
Controlled circumstance of pity,
corridor shufflers look lost as refugees,
concerned and clumsy with frames,
bags of black blood follow them like pets.
(They are not allowed to find sleep in the ground,
under air and pine needles) .
A place of decay under pastel, a maze for
Jesus the daughter of God, for ghosts and unlikely saints.
Let them go softly into the night.
Let them pass through the thick window glass
to where the others are.
poem by Leslie Philibert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Regeneration
The pine needles covered the ground like a carpet
and their fragrance was all around.
The pinecones scattered here and there
punctuated the ground.
The firs were thick, stately and tall
and had grown for many a year.
They grew with the company of each other
and it did appear
that all of the forest creatures
whether large or small
were content to see the pine needles
continuously fall.
All seemed peaceful and quiet
on the forest floor,
until the animals sensed a danger.
Then there came a roar.
Most feared by all the fir trees
a spark had created a flame
and as the animals ran for their life,
nothing was the same.
The fire spread and one by one
the firs were engulfed by smoke.
Unable to breathe, they stood their ground
and silently did choke.
Consumed by a blazing fire
they quietly went to sleep.
The sweet pine aroma was absent
and into the air did creep
a sorrow for all of the trees that died
that once had stood so high.
The rain that came to cleanse the ground
was a gift to them from the sky.
For they would begin to grow again
from the rain and sun that shone.
The firs would grow and regenerate
and then would come the cone.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ghosts of the Sea
The ghosts of the sunken ships remember the fog,
Reminiscent of the danger of a wild, mad dog.
Hidden it the darkness it came into the night,
everyone aboard the sailing ship became affright.
They lost their way in that thick cloud as they fell the rhythm of the waves,
They could hear the water as it crashed against the shore and the caves.
Before the sailor knew it they were in the sea among the rolling, foaming crests,
The deep sea was calling them as the waves broke across their breasts.
The high seas had taken another ship as it lay battered among the rocks, moving
slowly with tide,
Softly they could hear the whispering of the fog as it spoke to the ocean wide.
The ghosts of the sea beckon as the ocean becomes a sheet of glass,
The fog has lifted and the ghosts for the deep invite the ships who would dare pass.
poem by Ron Dawson
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Suitcases Don't Have Wings
Small bags big bags
Black bags white bags
Suitcases hey hey hey
For work and for play
Crammed full of things
Suitcases dont have wings
White bags black bags
Complete with one-way tags
Dragging us down
Ever closer to the ground
All the time they sing
Suitcases dont have wings
Big bags small bags
That behind us we drag
Past present and future
We cram so much in n' gotcha
We've been forgetting
suitcases dont have wings
All bags every bag
That we painfully drag
Drop them at jesus feet
Cause all ur needs he'll meet
Suitcases hey hey hey
They get in the way
Drop them if you want in
Suitcases dont have wings
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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The 'secret' of their being up in the tree had continued for almost two years now. Where the thick trunk branched out near the top, the two could sit comfortably. Michiko, straddling one branch, leaned back against another. There were days when little birds came and days when the wind sang through the pine needles. Although they weren't that high off the ground, these two little lovers felt as if they were in a completely different world, far away from the earth.
Yasunari Kawabata in Up in the Tree
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Outside Your Window
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I feel the seconds slowly pass,
Whilst you I anxiously await.
And behind the glowing glass;
I glimpsed a fading candlelight.
And I with hope was filled and so:
Wished I for love and life this night.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I see through the looking glass,
To find my missing soulmate.
And when the light finally flew;
When darkness swamped the room:
A wide smile on my face drew;
And waited I for you to bloom.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I feel my feelings all amass,
As I your beauty contemplate.
Seconds felt forever;
Nor beauty I did see.
All alone my eyes did glitter;
Whilst wondering where you would be!
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I walked on in your impasse;
Wishing it's not yet too late.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I lonesome stood for long alas!
And didn't notice your window grate.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I tried to drag out of that morass,
Myself; and my lost senses locate.
Outside Her Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I watched my heart swiftly by a lass,
Gets stolen; and did my soul sedate.
Outside Her Window;
I still pass by everyday.
Outside Her Window;
I can't just turn and walk away.
Outside Her Window;
I still have hope that she might show.
Outside Her Window;
I watch my life pass by so slow.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I once awaited you alone all night.
But now I know: it's just too late!
poem by Danny The Dreamer Boyd
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I Know You're Hurt
i know you are there in your usual
electronic silence, facing the monitor of your laptop.
the kind of person who keeps all the hurts inside her heart
you bleed and you simply let the blood flow from your hands to the floor,
and the blood flows like water spilled from your
drinking glass.
the beauty of your pain
shows through those beautiful flowers
sprouting on the floors
all the vines of green and blue tendrils
spreading on the window sill, the ceiling, the roof.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Musical Spring
The music flows softly,
Through the window pane.
The music flows softly,
Through the sprinkling rain.
Spring is here,
It’s in the air.
Spring is here,
We have no care.
The music flows softly,
Like spring in the air.
The music flows softly,
Like us, with no cares.
poem by Nathan Good
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"I strayed about the deck, an hour, to-night"
I strayed about the deck, an hour, to-night
Under a cloudy moonless sky ; and peeped
In at the windows, watched my friends at table,
Or playing cards, or standing in the doorway,
Or coming out into the darkness. Still
No one could see me.
I would have thought of them
- Heedless, within a week of battle - in pity,
Pride in their strength and in the weight and firmness
And link'd beauty of bodies, and pity that
This gay machine of splendour 'ld soon be broken,
Thought little of, pashed, scattered. . . .
Only, always,
I could but see them - against the lamplight - pass
Like coloured shadows, thinner than filmy glass,
Slight bubbles, fainter than the wave's faint light,
That broke to phosphorus out in the night,
Perishing things and strange ghosts - soon to die
To other ghosts - this one, or that, or I.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1915)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Made By Hand
made by hand....
dreams woven
in a fine cloth....
steps made of stone,
laid one upon the other.
shelter made of oak,
cut and hauled,
nailed together in the sun,
able to stand the night.
this window made of glass,
allowing light and dark
to intertwine....
this old bed made of pine....
the path to the doorway
laid with pine needles....
this old door always open....
the light always on....
this heart made by hand,
waiting for you,
in this stillness...
made by hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing But the Blood
What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
For my pardon this I see -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
For my cleansing, this my plea -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Nothing can for sin atone -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
Naught of good that I have done -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
This is all my hope and peace -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
CHORUS
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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The Little Old School Room
In a little old school room,
In that old country school.
Where we started to bloom,
With the Golden Rule.
That was the place for our very best times,
Learning to read, reciting nursery rhymes.
That little old school room way in the back,
In the morning we'd get there, by crossing the tracks.
Fixing it up for Halloween,
Black cats, pumpkins, witches, and hay.
The most wonderful room I'd ever seen.
We couldn't wait for that special day.
Making masks from paper bags,
Getting up a party for the fourth grade class.
All dressed up in paint and rags,
Drawing little ghosts on the window glass.
That little school room is still there in my mind,
All the smells, laughter, friendship and joy.
When I want to go back, I can easily find,
That little old school room, where I was a boy.
8/24/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Metamorphosis
a girlfriend came in
built me a bed
scrubbed and waxed the kitchen floor
scrubbed the walls
vacuumed
cleaned the toilet
the bathtub
scrubbed the bathroom floor
and cut my toenails and
my hair.
then
all on the same day
the plumber came and fixed the kitchen faucet
and the toilet
and the gas man fixed the heater
and the phone man fixed the phone.
noe I sit in all this perfection.
it is quiet.
I have broken off with all 3 of my girlfriends.
I felt better when everything was in
disorder.
it will take me some months to get back to normal:
I can't even find a roach to commune with.
I have lost my rythm.
I can't sleep.
I can't eat.
I have been robbed of
my filth.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conference Between Christ, The Saints, And The Soul
I am pale with sick desire,
For my heart is far away
From this world's fitful fire
And this world's waning day;
In a dream it overleaps
A world of tedious ills
To where the sunshine sleeps
On th' everlasting hills.
Say the Saints—There Angels ease us
Glorified and white.
They say—We rest in Jesus,
Where is not day nor night.
My Soul saith—I have sought
For a home that is not gained,
I have spent yet nothing bought,
Have laboured but not attained;
My pride strove to rise and grow,
And hath but dwindled down;
My love sought love, and lo!
Hath not attained its crown.
Say the Saints—Fresh Souls increase us,
None languish nor recede.
They say—We love our Jesus,
And He loves us indeed.
I cannot rise above,
I cannot rest beneath,
I cannot find out Love,
Nor escape from Death;
Dear hopes and joys gone by
Still mock me with a name;
My best beloved die
And I cannot die with them.
Say the Saints—No deaths decrease us,
Where our rest is glorious.
They say—We live in Jesus,
Who once died for us.
Oh, my Soul, she beats her wings
And pants to fly away
Up to immortal Things
In the Heavenly day:
Yet she flags and almost faints;
Can such be meant for me?
Come and see—say the Saints.
Saith Jesus—Come and see.
Say the Saints—His Pleasures please us
Before God and the Lamb.
Come and taste My Sweets—saith Jesus—
Be with Me where I am.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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O, What A Short Story
From beginning to end it was a short tale
It follows like this, a once unspoken story
Dusk would come and we’d walk together
Down along the beach, we could stay for forever
The sand would squeeze between our toes
As we walked together, on the beach at dusk
Night would come and we’d eat together
Followed by talk of what the future would bring
A bundle of happiness, and a house together
We’d talk together, after eating dinner at night
Morning would come and we’d be off to work
What a night we’d had, but forgotten already
Fights would follow and a change would be made
We’d fight and fight, in the morning during work
By lunchtime the end would soon be near
Sick of the madness and unpredictable sadness
My bags would be packed before dinner came
I’d pack my bags, after lunch in sorrow
That dinner would be lonely, alone I’d eat
And I’d cry myself to sleep
Alone at a friends, a depression with no end
I’d finally sleep, after dinner I’d cry
My story would end at midnight that night
How could I bear to live, without my sweetheart?
I’d go peacefully in sleep, after taking those pills
I’d take my last breath, at midnight that night
poem by Alyssa Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drugs Or Jesus
In my hometown
For anyone that sticks around
You're either lost or you're found
There's not much in between
In my hometown
Everything's still black and white
It's a long long way from wrong to right
From Sunday morning to Saturday night
Everybody just wants to get high
Sit and watch a perfect world go by
We're all looking for love and meaning in our lives
We follow the roads that lead us
To drugs or Jesus
My whole life
I tried to run I've tried to hide
From the stained glass windows in my mind
Refusing to let God's light shine down on me
Down on me
Everybody just wants to get high
Sit and watch a perfect world go by
We're all looking for love and meaning in our lives
There's not much space between us
Drugs or Jesus
We all just want some proof
Everyone's just looking for the truth
Everybody just wants to get high
Sit and watch a perfect world go by
We're all looking for love and meaning in our lives
We follow the roads that lead us
To drugs or Jesus
To drugs or Jesus
To drugs or Jesus
Oh, I need you Jesus
Hallelujah
E
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Needles
(ian hunter)
Youre just a stranger in the past
Just another mug that could never last
You came up slow but you burned out fast (didnt ya)
It aint silver needles on the run
No it aint silver needles on the run
It aint silver needles on the run
Shh you make me feel so bad
You thought you was the only one that got messed up
Me n all the others never had it so rough
Well how come youre dead and Im still stood up
Well it aint silver needles on the run
Silver needles on the run
No it aint silver needles on the run
Oh I remember....
All your plans were made on some pr floor
n all your bags were packed, they never reached the door.
Out ordering (? ) your thought exchange
All your brains were acting strange
You never lied in dreams before
There must be more to life than getting sore
(what do you think? )
I seen in some music paper that you was gone
And I went right out and wrote you a farewell song
Boy, they had you dead before you was born
And its a shame - you were such a great mover
But it aint silver needles on the run
No it aint silver needles on the run
Silver needles on the run
Silver needles on the run
Silver needles on the run
Silver needles on the run
(next)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothin But The Blood
Words & music:michael w. smith and chris harris
Woa-o-woa-oah-woa-o-woa-oah
Woa-o-woa-oah-woa-o-woa-oah
Woa-o-woa-oah-woa-o-woa-oah
Woa-o-woa-oah-woa-o-woa-oah
What can wash away my sins
(theres) nothing but the blood of jesus
What can make me whole again
Nothing but the blood of jesus
This is all my righteousness
Its nothing but the blood of jesus
This is all my hope and peace
Nothing but the blood of jesus
Nothing but the blood of jesus
Nothing but the blood of jesus
Nothing but the blood of jesus
Nothing but the blood of jesus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Would You Follow Me
(john kongos)
Would you follow me if I search for another life
Would you walk with me through the dark and the hungry times
If I said, Im gonna leave today
What would you do
Would you pack some things and come away too
Lose or win, thick or thin
Where would you like to be
Lose or win, thick or thin
Would you follow me
Would you follow me
Even though my dreams seem too far away today
Take a chance and
Stand by my side and
Lose or win, thick or thin
Where would you like to be
Lose or win, thick or thin
Would you follow me
Would you follow me
If I said Im goin away to join some revolution
Could you ever give up what they call the good life
Would you care to know what Im lookin for
And if I find it
Would you take note of the time, would you mind it
Lose or win, thick or thin
Where would you like to be
Lose or win, thick or thin
Would you follow me
Would you follow me
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
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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Sleep with angel
Every night when moon close my eyes, I go to sleep with angel.
My angel takes me in my darkness dreams on the place where joy
And sorrow embraces each other. Where shadows are friends and lovers are from Eden curse. Every night when I go to sleep with angel, in my darkness wishes, he
gave to me black withered roses with blood from his pure heart. Angel is hurt and I cannot do any thing.
Every night when I go to sleep I cry. There is no angel any more…
Angel died, and slowly disappeared from my dreams.
Tonight when I close my eyes, I will die. I will sleep with my angel for all time…
poem by Vanesa Rabic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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