Promises
Your promise is sound like a niece,
Upstairs the rooms are plenty,
The reward compares to Peace,
I and you are lovable and a discovery.
My complaint subdues your walls
As they crumble and thud to the floors,
Risks are many in these rooms of balls,
A craft of heaven lines the corridors.
May promises keep for some elegant time,
With love I guarantee the house no grime.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Shared Loneliness
A house is empty if you're alone.
Its rooms are too quiet for it's known
loneliness too, just like you.
It echoes with hollowness
and creaks with despair
for the lone figure it houses
has no one to share
its rooms.
It hears the steps of the solitary one.
It hears the sighs that weigh like a ton
on its floors and walls
where the sadness crawls.
It longs to be filled
with conversational tones
filling up its rooms.
The bedroom is lonely
and the living room too.
The kitchen has a setting for one
and only one cup of coffee to brew.
These rooms can house all of the pain
that lonesomeness brings and still remain
loyal to the one who's alone.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smokey Hued
My doors smoky open
ethereal;
right and left corridor
compartmented.
I see patterns
and rooms
to the right and left.
Here my Room of Tears,
weeping walls that caterwaul.
All my sorrows hang here
and Deep Regrets lie on the floor.
All My Loves
are in this room
in hues rosette
most past;
their glow
shimmers
even outside
in the corridor.
My eyes lid as I pass
my rooms of Cardinal Sins;
faces there
I'd wronged or mislead,
I was relieved to see Repentments Rooms next
where Atonements array the walls
and below on tables are
Just Due Parchments properly signed
for deliverance to Justice Hall.
I did make some things right there.
Upstairs are my Best Regards
in alcoves 'round my Heart
very soft
healing arts applied with care there.
I'm now down to Secret Sins,
its door ajar with Gambolments,
Inexcusables-Mindless Hurts-
all Unspeakables.
Oh, each time I make this trip
my energy's spent;
and I vow
next time
to make of it
a more pleasant trip
through this
my Soul's House.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
House Of Many Rooms
The sound of the clock ticking
How this old house creeps
Another storm tonight approaches
So restless I can't sleep
Dark filled big long rooms
Portrait of a lady in view
Corridor that never seems to end
From a distance I thought I seen you
House Of Many Rooms
The sound of heavy rain falling
Feelings sourround of another place
An oval mirror hangs on the wall
And there I thought I seen your face
The smell of wild flowers
A gentle breeze blows from outside
Heavy laced dark curtains
A vision of you before my eyes
House Of Many Rooms
poem by Suelynn Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
White
These stark and sterile corridors,
These immaculate walls and floors
Of lambent amnesia and senile senses
Could only beckon the onset of oblivion
In these gray rooms, the shade of the sun
Cannot fecundate the insensate gloom
Our slivers linger on like echoes of chortles
And simpering rolls of tears amidst the smoke
The wind howls through the windows
And the forgetful floor and gregarious fortifications
Basked into its inebriated brawl dumbly
Forgetting the lofty pillars that once surrounds me
The shadow mused the prancing beacons
And confound it to the ephemeral joie de vivre
Because there is nothing left to be done
But to mourn in the incarceration of the self
I apologize for ripping the golden manacles
And for bleeding from its sharp and gelid grip
And for washing the streak of sunlight
That plastered the lackadaisical walls
The guilt oppresses me, far more than oblivion
Because I love who we were, I miss who we were
But we will never be complete again
In a house of white-phantom corridors
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Building A Big House
you build a big house
with one thought, a wish
that something may last forever
like love, like the finest wood
like a relationship,
or say
(let me say it this way)
a marriage, like strong stairs
inviting attention to society
that no one is leaving
like a door closing behind
a sigh,
but a house with time falls
pillars collide, and floors go
termite eaten to the ground
doors fall out from the hinges
that hold them it their frames,
nothing lasts forever
i know,
i build a house because i know
what love is
i want to give it shelter and warmth
like those rooms
a glow like those living rooms
a nice dinner
like the kitchen and the dining tables.
i do not think beyond my body
that turns to dust
i know
i do not utter beyond my words, i know,
no words can withstand the
lures of the niceties of a lie.
i know
i build the house because we are here
and there is nothing
worth doing
there is no snow and ski is irrelevant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And I Lounged and Lay on Their Beds
When I went to that house of pleasure
I didn't stay in the front rooms where they celebrate,
with some decorum, the accepted modes of love.
I went into the secret rooms
and lounged and lay on their beds.
I went into the secret rooms
considered shameful even to name.
But not shameful to me -because if they were,
what kind of poet, what kind of artist would I be?
I'd rather be an ascetic. That would be more in keeping,
much more in keeping with my poetry,
than for me to find pleasure in the commonplace rooms.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Living House
I saw you in a house of rooms,
It must be saving the bed of contentment,
Feeding the living of people,
Creating contentment as you speak.
My love is fastened to the door
And the window is collapsing.
My violent pages work for the more,
Rooms are rooms meaningful.
The saviour is brought to the houses
And he saves us from slaughter.
I come to you in the middle of town,
As far as the eye keeps, like one hard.
The contentment is just about.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Alley
Durable kitten meddling around the alley
Hoping for miraculous savior and a place called home
Convincing voices broke the quiet night
Patrons and pathetic pouring in incessantly
As the clock labored and ticking flawlessly
A long stretch of antique shop houses were housing
Sympathetic women for sales
A sign of the world’s oldest profession at it’s high
Weird eyes glancing and captured
Typical extravaganza of stimulation
Sarcastic mixture of wilds scents
Ruining a solid strong marriages
And a bachelor’s virginity
They walked into the rooms upstairs
To taste the goodies of life
The night has not ended and negotiated
At the far end of the alley
Before the turning to the main city streets
A favorite and acclaimed heaven on earth
Man other’s anatomy
Transvestites of lovable worth every penny
Infamous and laid back
Nothing compares when you need
Indeed
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Family Homes
everybody's mother is beautiful and brave
but my mother was little bit different
And was at the top of them
she was the bravest...the most beautiful..and the cleverest
we lived in a house
a very very ancient an and old house
ı ts plaster worn out and falling down
once a big and beautiful of our nomad ancestors
the camels of the long caravans used to rest in its garden
now the rooms of the house is rented to families in poverty
the kitchen...and laundry and washing were common for all
there was a in wall cupboard for bath in every room
in one of this rooms upstairs we lived
my mother..my brother and me
hiring it
they called these rooms faqmiliy homes
in turkish
in our homeland in turkey
in one of these rooms
lived shoe maker...rather a cobbler
with his son..daughter and wife
they were our beloved neighbours
he own the the room from his ancestors
the cobbler loved hunting
and had a peculı ar political opinion of his own
at downstairs
ther was a workman
came from his village
a very poor family indeed
wherever he found he worked
if he could
my mother used to help the family
she was found of this very very
one day ı heard the family went to germany
for food and living
my brother and me
were attending to a boarding school in istanbul
we used to come to our family home
in summer vacations
we were very happy in yhose days
with our room neighbours
my brother me and my mother
but theese poor happy did not last long
we grew up
my brother an archaeology professor
me a district governor
but we have never forgotten
those family houses
and the friendship and solı darı ty in them
we remember
those family houses from time to time
they are demolished now
high buildings are erected in their places
and my mother gone heaven in 14th dec ember 1994
her grave near a cross road waiting
ı always pray for her
ı feel she is always near me..guarding me
she was the bravest...most beauı tiful and the cleverest
ı have ever seen
life is not an easy plaything
poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chat Room For Lonely People
Thoughts are the very essence
Of human existence
Even though they sometimes create discord
Whether you express them via your vocal cords
Or through your keyboard
When you are bored.
Didn't folks used to have rooms
Called drawing rooms?
But now all that is left
Is our 'privacy' of which we are bereft.
So, instead of drawing rooms
We have chat rooms
For lonely people
Who would like to chat with friendly people.
poem by Lonely People Champion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
a poem for allan jimenez (written in Arvisu House,1981)
If you open my door
Without knocking and
You simply come in
Without myself
What would you say?
It’s been a time
We cleaned rooms
Scrubbed toilet tiles
Into the desired whiteness
Of saints and souls
We designed rooms
Where no rain
Can get in
And surprise us
Of its pouring
About the damp
About the wet
Or the colds we get
We cannot imagine
Accidents do happen
Despite strict precautions
Of the perfect prefect
Of the other sect
We cannot situate
We at wrong hours
Inside wrong rooms
Talking about wrongs
And we talk
All about us and
It talks all about us
The stay
Silent and still
The closed gate
That must by now
Be opened
Or I get
Muriatic and drink it
As my morning milk
Crazy
Now if you happen
To come into my room
Without myself
As I have gone
Far elsewhere
Without myself
Leaving any note
Or sign that I would
Be coming back
To this room
Clean and tidy
What else can you say?
What else would I say?
I cannot promise
I cannot scare you
Elsewhere I go
With another routine
Hi, hello, how are you?
Anyway
The scheduled morning prayers
Of this sad house
Clean and tidy
Shall recite themselves
Perfectly
Without me
Or us
And sure
Everything everything
Would still be all right
All right.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unbelievable
(al anderson/jeffrey steele)
(track 5 - time 2:21)
Shes so kissable, huggable, lovable, unbelievable
Shes a mouthful of anything and everything a man could want
She aint typical, shes unpredictable, shes available, its a miracle
How my heart stumbled into someone so kissable, huggable, lovable, unbelievable
Up til now my life has been so lonely and boring
I never thought I would find someone so
Elegant, intelligent, heaven sent, all my money spent
I put a big down payment on that itty bitty diamond ring
Shes so beautiful, its indisputable, its undeniable, shes got-to-havable
Shes music to my ears, and makes my heart sing, so kissable, huggable, lovable, unbelievable
Theres so many things
I want to tell her
Like I love her
But every time I talk
I start to stutter
Shes so elegant, intelligent, heaven sent, all my money spent
I put a big down payment on that itty bitty diamond ring
Shes so beautiful, its indisputable, its undeniable, shes got-to-havable
Shes music to my ears, and makes my heart sing, kissable, huggable, lovable, unbelievable
Kissable, huggable, lovable, unbelievable
Kissable, huggable, lovable, unbelievable
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pax Modern
Away from fading windows
sealed deep within the efficient building
empty chairs wait.
Gleaming floors echo
friends laughing
hello and
goodbye,
but here I sit
alone.
The sun set without me tonight.
Through long corridors I watched
as slit windows softly glowed
with withered passion.
But night rises suddenly!
Night is a fast clock,
firing rounds of morning, tomorrow, next week,
next year
into my defenseless heart!
Night is a rude guest,
an expected surprise.
But where is God?
In this comfortable cave
bright, sterile altars serve
quick
convenient offerings.
No squalor of crucifixion here!
These are painless rooms,
climate controlled,
self-satisfied.
My soul dozes.
From troubling dreams
of resurrection
beige walls lull me
to dubious peace.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Laboratory for Radioactivity consisted of only two rooms at the time; at a later date, when tests of radioactive substances became more extensive, it expanded into four rooms.
quote by Walther Bothe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rooms
we all live in hutches, rooms
familiar and unfamiliar
brightly lit, dark, mysterious
unknown and gloomy
they punctuate each and
every of our thoughts
our voice echoes each and
every chamber, some distinctly,
some meekly, some warmly
some coldly, some lost between
winding dark and lit corridors
we choose to dwell in
reassuring rooms but they all
soon suffocate us with drudgeries
our attention turn to those sealed,
which we love to think a divinity sits,
who makes sure we follow through
every word of his scripts written in
the light of every chamber sealed
with the spirit of our breaths
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Beautiful Reward
Well I sought gold and diamond rings
My own drug to ease the pain that living brings
Walked from the mountain to the valley floor
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
From a house on a hill a sacred light shines
I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine
Down empty hallways I went from door to door
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
Well your hair shone in the sun
I was so high I was the lucky one
Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back
Im flyin high over gray fields my feathers long and black
Down along the rivers silent edge I soar
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In Your House
I play at night in your house
I live another life
Pretending to swim
In your house
I change the time in your house
The hours i take
Go so slow ...
I hear no sound in your house
Silence
In the empty rooms
I drown at night in your house
Pretending to swim
Pretending to swim
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Thank You For The Music Dad
You went ahead
To welcome Mom in your arms
Forever holding hands together
In a permanent place you called home
Remembering you made my tears rolling
You are a good provider, our strength
Our teacher, friend and defender
You wanted to fill our home
with laughter and songs
you always smile, hear our cries
you cover us with your mantle of love
you never disciplined us with your stick
you taught us how to listen, not to be judgmental
to love and to be sensitive
to the needs of others
I always run to you when i am down
begging you to listen to all my woes
and you just embrace me, whispering..
'all is well, don't give up..
we have a God who hears you in heaven above'
Your music is your life
You wanted us to make music our life, too
Little did i know..that the music you taught me
Is the very music that will keep me through
Thank you for the music, the singing and the laughter
It echoed in my heart and my very soul
Thank you for all the wonderful things you did to me
Thank you for making me the kind of person
The Lord wanted me to be
I LOVE YOU DAD..I MISS YOU..
I am sorry, i was not at your beck
To care for you
To hold your trembling hands
You wanted me to stay
But i did follow my heart
To a place where i know
I can be at peace
You promised to love Mom until the end
Praising God to no end
And i am here
Promising to see you all
When my time comes
There are plenty of rooms for the three of us
I promise to be good
I promise
a tribute to my loving father..thank you for reading...God bless you
poem by Meggie Gultiano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The House Of Splendour
‘Tis Evanoe's,
A house not made with hands,
But out somewhere beyond the worldly ways
Her gold is spread, above, around, inwoven;
Strange ways and walls are fashioned out of it.
And I have seen my Lady in the sun,
Her hair was spread about, a sheaf of wings,
And red the sunlight was, behind it all.
And I have seen her there within her house,
With six great sapphires hung along the wall,
Low, panel-shaped, a-level with her knees,
All her robe was woven of pale gold.
There are there many rooms and all of gold,
Of woven walls deep patterned, of email,
Of beaten work; and through the claret stone,
Set to some weaving, comes the aureate light.
Here am I come perforce my love of her,
Behold mine adoration
Maketh me clear, and there are powers in this
Which, played on by the virtues of her soul,
Break down the four-square walls of standing time.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian