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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Related quotes
The Wind That Ever Blows
The wind that ever blows,
opens my heart's Rose.
The clouds on the face of Sun,
playing with wind and all over Run.
The chirp of sparrow makes me to feel,
gazing in the sky standing on my heel.
The wind that ever blows,
Opens my heart's Rose.
The Blue color of the Sky gives pleasure to my eyes,
like, wants to take me out from the world of lies.
The rustling of leaves makes me gay,
to stand up and with them play.
The wind that ever blows,
opens my heart's Rose.
This time I just want one,
The ALLAH EXALTED (GOD) and NONE,
and this time except HIM no one my feeling knows,
The Wind that ever Blows,
Opens my heart's Rose....
(SEEMA REHMAN)
poem by Seema Rehman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Un-Break My Heart
Un-break my heart,
Become part of me again,
You broke my heart and never fixed it,
Leaving a hole that sucked in my soul,
My days grow darker and my life grows shorter,
And yet you are no where to be found,
Please un-break my heart,
And say you will love me again,
Un-do all this hurt that you have caused,
When you walked out of my life,
Help me to un-cry these tears,
That i cried over you so many nights,
Please un-break my heart,
take away this pain,
that's slowly killing my soul,
darkening my days,
And creating a back hole,
please heal these stab wounds,
You've caused with your words,
Heal these scars on my heart,
That have become a part of me,
They are threatening to re-open,
Threatening to cause more pain and hurt,
Please father Un-break my heart,
Walk through the door,
The door i often sit in front,
Waiting for your return,
I need your love,
I need you,
I need your arms around me,
And for you to never let go of me,
You brought darkness into my life the moment you walked out,
So please bring back the light,
poem by Charlie Bones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chain I Gave: From The Turkish
The chain I gave was fair to view,
The lute I added sweet in sound;
The heart that offer'd both was true,
And ill deserved the fate it found.
These gifts were charm'd by secret spell,
Thy truth in absence to divine;
And they have done their duty well,
Alas! they could not teach the thine.
That chain was firm in every link,
But not to bear a stranger's touch;
That lute was sweet, till thou could'st think
In other hands its notes were such.
Let him who from thy neck unbound
The chain which shiver'd in his grasp,
Who saw that lute refuse to sound,
Restring the chords, renew the clasp.
When thou wert changed, they alter'd too;
The chain is broke, the music mute.
'Tis past, to them and thee adieu
False heart, frail chain, and silent lute.
The Secret Of Giving
(rick bowles, sunny russ)
In this life we all go through hard times
When we struggle and pray for a lifeline
Just needing someone
To show us the way
To you the glass might seem half empty
But its half full to those without any
So hold on to hope
And try to have faith
Oh, youve got to have faith
Chorus:
If theres just one secret to living
Whoever you are
Its learning the meaning of giving
With an open heart/with an open heart
If you offer the best part of yourself
Even when you dont have anything else
Honest and true
Itll come back to you
Love comes back to you
Repeat chorus
Bridge:
With your arms wide open
The world opens wide
And youll believe it deep inside
That theres just one secret to living
Whoever you are
Its finding that true joy in giving
With an open heart/with an open heart
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Days Of Rain
AFTER DAYS OF RAIN
After days of rain
The blue returns to the sky
The world is fresh again
The greens deeper
Every breath has hope in it
And the sky opens and opens and opens
As if there is always somewhere greater and better to go.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Up, Give In
open up into the air
breath all the sounds
feel the wind around
can you feel it build
can you hear me break
have you seen the scares
of the war the world takes
can you hear silence
when all you need is sound
open up to the air
let your heart pound
feel the wild wind
let go to the howl
its a peace breaking day
but then night comes
it shakes you
it breaks you
like the wind
just give in
poem by Audrey Marie Kay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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El Lute
This is the story of el lute
A man who was born to be hunted like a wild animal
Because he was poor
But he refused to accept his fate
And today his honor has been restored
He was only nineteen
And he was sentenced to die
For something that somebody else did
And blamed on el lute
Then they changed it to life
And so he could escape
From then on they chased him
And searched for him day and night
All over spain
But the search was in vain for el lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called el lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
So he taught himself to read and to write
It didnt help el lute
He was one who had dared to escape overnight
They had to find el lute
Soon the fame of his name
Spread like wild fire all over the land
With a price on his head
People still gave him bread
And they gave him a hand
For they knew he was right
And his fight was their fight
No one gave you a chance
In the spain of those days
On the walls every place they had put up
The face of el lute
And he robbed where he could just like once robin hood
They finally caught him and
That seemed the end
But they caught him in vain
Cause a change came for spain
And el lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called el lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
And then freedom really came to his land
And also to el lute
Now he walks in the light of a sunny new day
The man they called el lute
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everything, Everyone
I don't want to see anymore
Don't want to open my eyes and witness
Everything in this world has been corrupted
It seems
Everything in this world is worth nothing
It seems
So sew these green eyes
Close them forever with this
Needle, red wire
I don't want to hear anymore
Don't want to open my mind to the sound
Everything in this world is seductive
It seems
Everything in this world is worth nothing
It seems
So break both these ears
Close them forever with this
Syringe, screwdriver
I don't want to feel anymore
Don't want to open my heart to what's true
Everyone in this world takes advantage
It seems
Everyone in this world loves nothing
It seems
So tear out this red heart
Close it forever with this
Razor, fingernails
I don't want to breathe anymore
Don't want to open my lungs to new life
Everything in this world is destructive
It seems
Everything in this world loves nothing
It seems
So block these charred lungs
Close them forever with this
Rope, hands tighter
I don't want to live anymore
Don't want to open myself in this world
Everything in this world is so worthless
It seems
Everyone in this world is so worthless
It seems
I ripped through my brain
Stopped the spark in my body called life
Bullet, warm metal
Blood, cold floor
My Lute Awake
My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain.
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie wethered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told;
Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute; this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun.
Now is this song both sung and past:
My lute be still, for I have done.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When God Opens Heaven's Gates
When God opens Heaven's gates
As we cross that gulf so wide,
The arms of Jesus open
As our soul will there abide.
When God opens heaven's gates
We'll see beauty all around,
Our loved ones, too, will greet us,
As we leave this earth behind.
When God opens Heaven's gates
There'll be singing angels there,
The awesome peace and joyfulness
Will permeate the air.
As God opens Heaven's gates
And His Light takes place of day,
Jesus welcomes us forever
As the ones who found "The Way."
poem by Gloria Davis Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lute Awake
My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain.
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie wethered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told;
Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute; this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun.
Now is this song both sung and past:
My lute be still, for I have done.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In my house
You enter a room to see a park
You close a door only to be led to another stairway
Leading you to another room with nothing but windows
You close a window the rest remains open
You close the windows and another door
In that park in the room where you just entered
Opens
Then you are confused about the roof that opens
To a river to the rocks where another door opens
To a wall with trees and birds and butterflies
This is weird you say, this is really weird
Then from the garage comes a wind that blows
Its horn like a car
I have just arrived offering you an explanation
For all these mess, these uncertainties, these self-made
confusions.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Your Box
Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Your Box
Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lute, Awake
My labor that thou and I shall waste
And end that I have now begun,
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute, be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon.
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts through love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain;
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain
Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie withered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told.
Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spnt
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute, this is the last
Labor that thou and I shall waste
And ended is that we begun.
Now is the song both sung and past;
My lute, be still, for I have done.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To His Lute
MY lute, awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is said and past,
My lute, be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon:
Should we then sing, or sigh, or moan?
No, no, my lute! for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affectiòn;
So that I am past remedy:
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won;
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain,
That makest but game of earnest pain:
Trow not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lover's plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
May chance thee lie wither'd and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon:
Thy wishes then dare not be told:
Care then who list! for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou has lost and spent
To cause thy lover's sigh and swoon:
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute! this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun:
Now is this song both sung and past--
My lute, be still, for I have done.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Door Between Two Worlds
this the door between our two worlds
it divides the inside and the outside
the light and the darkness
the choice is yours
there is no lock
there is only the hinge that holds the door to its place
when you open it
there is no sound
and when you close it
there is only this silence of the air sealed inside our minds
my heart does not sing inside
it is muted by the darkness that moment your gentle hands
close the door
it is patient, the mind
the incompatibilities of the things outside us
are too inviting
they tempt us to step outside and promise us
the magical wonders of freedom
we feel so light like our joys like cottons and clouds
they are no different from our wishes
i am in the middle of this door between us
& you look at me like i am the last man of this earth
your heart opens with eyes too careful not to know
what i do next is the suspense of this uncertainty
your eyes close, my heart bleeds
my hands wilt, your mind wanders like a lost wind
the door closes finally
walling us in
it locks upon itself and
the world sleeps soundly curling its feet on the beds of the
heavens
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When to her Lute Corinna Sings
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear,
As any challenged echo clear;
But when she doth of mourning speak,
E'en with her sighs, the strings do break,
And as her lute doth live or die,
Led by her passion, so must I:
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
E'en from my heart the strings do break
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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