A Dream of Innocence
(A dream I dreamt when I was only four years old)
Hardly was I old years four,
Went through an experience unforgettable.
It was the month of monsoon winds,
In the clear sunny morn I went out of the village,
And beheld the sun rising in the west,
Beyond the yonder peaks of the hills,
In the same place where it descends.
Fear gripped my mind and I ran to the mosque,
Lest the Door of Penitence should be closed.
I ran and ran through the streets shouting,
“O! People come! Come to the mosques!
The Doom is encroaching, beg apology of the sins,
Lest the Door of Deliverance be shut.”
No sooner did I find myself in front of the door
Than I found the mosque running,
With moderate speed, as the train leaves the station.
I ran and ran with the petty steps
Beside the walls, with increasing rapidity,
But ever the door remained out of the reach,
Then the mosques went afar; I began to gasp behind,
On the hot ground with bare feet.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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All Right
Looking out
To the hills, to the setting sun,
I feel a cold wind
Bound to come;
Another change,
Another end I cannot see,
But your faithfulness to me
Is making it all right.
I fall down on my knees;
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
Years of knockin on heavens door
Have taught me this, if nothing more,
That its all right, what may come.
Ive heard it said,
When the rivers running high,
You get to higher ground or you die.
Well, muddy waves of pain
Washed over me,
And it only made me see,
Its gonna be all right.
I, I fall down on my knees;
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
Years of knockin on heavens door
Have taught me this, if nothing more,
That its all right, what may come.
When will I learn therere no guarantees?
What strengthens hope, my eyes have never seen,
But it wont be long
Till the faith will be sight,
And the heavens will say,
Its all right.
(all right.)
(all right.)
(all right.)
All right,
I fall down on my knees;
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
Years of knockin...heavens door,
Have taught me this, if nothing more,
And its all right.
Whatever comes.
All right,
Fall on my knees,
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
(after all these) years of knockin on heavens door,
(years of knockin on heavens door,)
(its gonna be) all right.
(oooooh, yeah.) all right.
I fall down on my knees,
Tell me that its all right,
cause you give me what I need,
(after all these years of knockin on heavens door,)
Years of knockin on heavens door,
(its gonna be) all right.
Whatever comes, yes sir,
All right.
I fall down on my knees.
All right.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love sticks on
If a door is shut
Don’t get upset.
Search and find.
There’s another door
Open, perhaps wider.
In our courtship
The door, don’t shut.
I want no other door
Even if it is wider.
No door is dearer than
The door of your bosom.
10-10-1999.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Rizal
i agree
education is the key
when the door if
finally opened
in fact a long time ago
and
we already had
333 years in that
Spanish convent and
43 years of
that Hollywood experience
another door has been
closed
and still
the key has to open it
one door leads to
another
same key
the young keep on getting
that key
another door is close
more keys
each key has become
more expensive
and some have thrown
that key away
meanwhile the Authority
is asking
that doors outside the country
be opened
export labor
brain drain
that is another key
problem
on the other
hand
it is not the money
it is the open mind
resilient to
poverty
taking time still to laugh
at those hard times
i agree
despite the irrelevance
it is still
the rightful key
the door is open
and we are inside it
no one
no one can take this house
again
from us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Back Door Man
Im every man here in disguise
Lie cheat and give you a spoonful of lies
Im a high toned mother with an axe to grind
Come a little closer honey, see what you find
Your worst nightmares all rolled in one
Ill find you sure as the rising sun
Dont make a noise its understood
cos this aint no story like red riding hood
Im your back door man, Im your back door man oh yeah
Im your back door man, come on babe, and Ill take you where I can
Systematically I choose at will
But with you theres an obscene thrill
Its funny now how you cant say no
Its the smell of fear that you love so
Im your back door man, Im your back door man, oh yeah,
Im your back door man baby, just take it where you can
This first kiss has a touch of ice
Now hows that feel, it aint so nice
Blackhearted mamma Ive something new
Oh lord look what Ive turned into
[instrumental]
Im your back door man, Im your back door man
Im your back door man, Im your back door man
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unopened Doors
Many doors of opportunity
remain shut through passing time.
You stand at them,
but they never open to let you pass through.
You try and try, but with no avail.
The door remains shut to you,
but you see other pass through it
and your frustration grows.
You bang and shout
and never anyone answers you.
The years slip silently by
from your youth until your old.
Each time you try the door
it refuses to let you through.
Even with more wisdom
it refuses to let you in,
but you don’t give up
you just try and try again.
More time passes
and you’ve lost the will
to want to go through.
You reach that point when you feel the battle lost.
Turning your back you walk away
to let the sun set on your life.
You feel you have nothing now,
no more will to fight.
Someone suggests a different direction,
a different door to go through.
You are hesitant
in case the door remains shut to you.
Finally, you try it
and are amazed to find
the door opens easily
and you can walk through,
but you keep remembering
the door that wouldn’t open for you.
25 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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Closed Door
sometimes we want to enter
a door
a closed door that does not open
no matter how hard we
knock
we try being courteous and gentle
and so patient
eating every waiting time
like we are the most foolish of all fools
knocking a closed door
seducing it more often with our
pleadings
begging and even compromising
for a dance
to convince the owner of the door to
open it
but no one hears, no one cares to listen
to our pleadings,
no one likes the dance of compromises
the door is still closed
and then the last crooked thing happens
we take the axe
and break the door which is closed
forcing it open
only to find that all the people there are dead
there is nothing inside
but mystery and
grief
an unsolved crime, no more
no less.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Door To Door
All us angels wearing studs
Yeah, plastic mouth melts in the sun
Oo, running colors everyone
Cause were all in prison having fun
Oh, perfect pictures hang around
Well, delusions swing you up and down
Well fall out windows climb up trees
Im lookin for tranquillity
Hmm, got your, o locks and chains
Well, still gonna blow your brains out
Those locks and chains
No, nah, never felt like a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Oo yeah, I never felt like a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Oo, yeah you got your herds of people choosing arms
Gonna keep us all in mass alarm
Oh, murder movies make your day
Ah, ah, living in the usa
Cracked up people on the edge
They got no heroes got no bread
Oh, get the jitters get the shakes
Lookin like (? ) the final take
Ooh, well locks and chains
Gonna protect you
Well locks and chains
Dont feel no more
Never felt a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Oh, never felt a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Ha- shh, oo
Yeah locks and chains
Well gonna blow your brains out?
Yeah locks and chains
Cant feel no more
Never felt a dream like you before
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Uh well I never felt a dream like you before
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Oo, even knocking door to door
Oh, livin in a dream is all the same
Ah, yeah livin in a dream is a-all the same
Oh never felt a dream like you before
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door (door)
Door to door
song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Door
Behind the door what happens
behind the door what's hidden
till you keep the door closed
you are not exposed
Elseone cannot peep in
Elseone cannot step in
other side of closed door
you live behind secured.
If you want door of others
to open for you
keep your door open for
who needs you.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Al-Aqsa is in DANGER!
The mosque in our dear country Palestine
The mosque that is pumping in our hearts
The mosque that should belong to all Muslims
The mosque that is slowly falling apart
Where the Zionists have stepped in
With their dirty hands and shoes
They have touched our holy mosque’s walls
The Zionists including the Jews
They are digging tunnels under our mosque
Hoping the Al-Aqsa mosque to collapse one day
They are hoping to build their own Jewish temple as a replacement
That they won’t even let the Muslims enter their mosque and pray
the Jews and the Zionists have stepped in our Holy Mosque
Doing what they please
Purposely stepping in with their dirty shoes
And forcing our Muslim brothers and sisters to leave
How can we stay silent?
And our silence is the cause
Of all of the destruction happening in our holy mosque
Caused by our enemies’ filthy jaws
Al Aqsa mosque belongs to all Muslims
Not just the Palestinians alone
This mosque is our life
This mosque is our home
The Jews and the Zionists have stepped in
Where the prophet (peace be upon him) and his followers once stayed
Our enemies are standing in our mosque with their unclean bodies
On top of the grounds where our beloved ones once prayed!
The Arabs’ silence MUST end
Where we can finally pray in our mosque and here the prophet’s beautiful, echoing sound
And we shall say “No, you Zionists and Jews. THIS IS OUR MOSQUE! ”
“AND YOU ARE FORBIDDEN TO STEP A FOOT ON ITS GROUND! ”
poem by Marria Attar
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Show the door
Show the door
Ready to go
We the four.
Front back next
Door is best.
Show the door
Ready to go
We the four.
With in the door
From death's door
We are out of door
O door keeper
Show the door
Call is there
More and more.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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She Is Rising
Those pretty feet are stuck deep in the ground
And all that junk just keeps coming
Must be the time to rearrange it all
Another place another time has called
She is rising above this world
She is heading for an open door
She is rising above this world
She is heading for an open door
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
One day he wakes up to a different drum
Rhythm coming from so far away
He had no time to tell anyone
His hips were moving to a perfect sway
He is rising above this world
He is heading for an open door
He is rising above this world
He is heading for an open door
Give it up let him in
All he wants is to begin
Give it up let him in
All he wants is to begin
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
She is rising above this world
She is heading for an open door
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
Give it up let her in
All she wants is to begin
Give it up (she is rising)
Let him in (he is rising)
All he wants is to begin (all I want is to begin)
Give it up (she is rising)
Let him in (he is rising)
All he wants is to begin (all he wants is to begin)
She is rising
He is rising
All I want
All I want is to begin
She is rising
He is rising
Give it up
We are rising
She is rising
She is rising
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's Donne is Donne
As militant Mullahs mutter and pray
And plan their Mosque near ground Zero
Protesters march and people say:
“This isn't right! They'll have to go.”
But let's demur and make no noise
No tears, no threats, no signs approve.
It would profane our civic faith
To tell the Mullah he must move.
The Towers’ fall brought harm and fear
Men reckon what that did and meant;
But building a “cultural Center” near
Though demonized, is innocent.
Dull couch potatoes of the Right
Those ditto heads who can't admit
Tolerance, cause it doth reprove
Those thoughts that have them in a snit.
But we, my love, are so refined
that we ourselves don't care one whit.
Let them build it, come what may
But build a brothel next to it.
Two buildings place there, cheek to cheek:
the Mosque and “Annie’s House of Pain”.
One dealing with things spiritual,
The other deals with things profane.
In both, salvation is for sale
It seems to me a perfect fit.
For do not both invoke God's name?
-and both, I fear, use whips a bit.
students at the Madrasah may
hear the cries of Joy next door
on her mattress, hard at play
While they use prayer mats on the floor.
.
Will they too prove as tolerant?
Live and let live, for now- they say
When they enforce Sharia law,
The folks next door will learn to pray.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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World Behind a Door
The door creeps open to expose
A world that is unknown to most.
Maybe a child's dream or an adult's
wish finally coming reality, Whatever
The reason for the door appearing
Still startly us all and the answer
Will always remain unknown.
Behind the door lies a world
That could never be imagined.
The sky is an outstanding blue.
This world has water that is clear
And the air is warm and comfortable.
The world behind the door brings
Peace when someone visits it.
Worries and fears slip away
when in the beautiful world.
It never storms and no one
Ever feels the pain that
our world can afflict on us.
It would be a dream to find
The world past the magical door.
To feel nothing but happiness
And to feel yourself smile again
Would make you feel free in
The beautiful world behind the door.
Find the world behind the door
And see for yourself.
poem by Tracey Wynn
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Another Learning
there is a door
between us as though
we are just
two adjacent rooms
to enter into your door
i need to have that key
you keep on telling me
the key was lost and you
do not know
where to find it anymore
there is another door
and you are allowing someone else to come in
at first i say 'This is unfair! ' and
I thought of forcing
that door open
on the other hand
i have my own door too
and the lock is broken
a long time ago i have
thrown out the key
for what use is a door with
a broken lock?
and for what use is your door
to my prayer?
i do not know what force is &
i already stopped begging
i change the frames of my window
i have some other plans in mind
there are nine planets in our
galaxy
there are many galaxies
in unlimited space
and like all those who still hope
they always know
that someone somewhere keeps
on waiting
in a world where doors welcome me
like arms in half-embrace
and so i go to places where
my feet are welcome
& i have learned the happiness
of forgetting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Did God Close That Door?
He closed the door
and touches you but
you do not understand
why.
You silently cry.
He hears it.
You still do not understand
why that door is closed.
Until you find smoke
in the sky
Until you hear about
the dead people
in the room
Now you know why He kept
on closing the door
And here is one that He
opens for you
He says Welcome
This is the home reserved for you
Beloved.
Inside it is a garden
Flowers bloom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A dream can be nurtured over years and years and then flourish rapidly. . . . Be patient. It will happen for you. Sooner or later, life will get weary of beating on you and holding the door shut on you, and then it will let you in and throw you a real party
Oh where is heavens door?
Where do we mortals find that narrow heavenly Door?
Through which millions of people have entered before?
It is found at the cross of Jesus The Crucified
where He paid for our sins and laid down His life and died.
With His arms outstretched so wide and saying, 'Come to me'
there we find forgiveness by His death at Calvary.
Then we see the Door before us swing open so wide
allowing us to pass through the veil to heavens side.
Calvary's cross is the Door through which we can go through.
There is no other entrance only this door will do.
For He is the Way by which we must enter heaven
It is at the cross we must come to be forgiven.
Then as we look behind us on the lintel we see
'Chosen before the foundation of the world in Me.'
Though millions have come yet there is still room for more
God by His Grace has allowed us to go through the Door.
So come to that Door for it is opened wide for you
and taste the glories of heaven as you enter through.
The cry goes out 'whosoever will may enter in'
it is at the Cross where your journey has to begin.
All who enter the door shall be safely kept inside
and there forever with the Lord Jesus they shall abide.
Each one was chosen by God before the world began
Included by His grace as part of salvations plan.
Written after reading John 10: 7-10
A Sad Return
There are many sad tales
of trains taking people away,
either to fight a war
or just to runaway.
As the train pulled into the station yesterday
there disembarked a passenger
who had been for a long time
on far distant shores.
Coming home to see his family
after years of being away.
He ran along to his door,
tried to inser his key into the lock,
but the key no longer fit.
He knocked on the door.
Strange faces answered it
of people he did not know.
He asked about his wife and son
who used to live there
not all that long ago.
The couple looked at each other
and offered him in for a cup of tea.
When he was comfortable,
they broke the sad news to him.
His wife and son were no longer living
because she could not live without him
she took her own life and their son as well.
He would find their graves
in the cemetery at the bottom of the hill.
As he places some flowers on their graves,
he said a little prayer
for God to look after them
until he too would meet them
at heaven’s door.
poem by David Harris
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A glimpse
a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe
inspired by
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Doors
A door may open
Or it may close
It may be wooden
Or steel, I suppose.
A door keeps us in
Or may lock us out,
A door may be silent
Or with noise, may shout.
Doors are for safety,
Our protection -
May rot in antiquity
Lose purpose and mission.
A door like chance,
Can open a dream.
A door like romance,
Can cause some steam.
But there is one door
With its key - never part,
Freely open, evermore -
The door of your heart!
Cynthia BuhainBaello
February 19,2012
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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