Taken
The window opens to consider dreams,
Offering a Wight to emerge in totality;
The nightmare commences at the table
Of food and drink, only to be like the future.
Our windows are now shut, doors too,
Clanging is heard like that of a magnet,
The murderers are near to the soul,
Wondering of hard pain and their suffering.
This eye is my window and shadow
To be observed by the poltergeist in history;
Towards a great island they seem to travel,
Islands of morbidity lie like liars in the dust.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Under Cover of Night
To slip into your shadow under cover of night.
To follow your footsteps, your shadow at the window.
That shadow at the window is you and no one else;
it's you.
Do not open that window behind whose curtains you're moving.
Shut your eyes.
I'd like to shut them with my lips.
But the window opens and the breeze, the breeze
which strangely balances flame and flag surrounds my escape
with its cloak.
The window opens: it's not you.
I knew it all along.
poem by Robert Desnos
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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
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Windows To Bill Gates Or Paul Allen And History Of Windows
window's leaves
windows of open sea
windows as far as possible
windows easier
windows update
window shopper
window tablet
windows on the world
window seat
(Music by The Implicit Order) .
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Spring Song
ALL winter through I sat alone,
Doors barred and windows shuttered fast,
And listened to the wind's faint moan,
And ghostly mutterings of the past;
And in the pauses of the rain,
'Mid whispers of dead sorrow and sin,
Love tapped upon the window pane:
I had no heart to let him in.
But now, with spring, my doors stand wide;
My windows let delight creep through;
I hear the skylark sing outside;
I see the crocus, golden new.
The pigeons on my window-sill,
Winging and wooing, flirt and flout,--
Now Love must enter if he will,
I have no heart to keep him out.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Window Of Opportunity
In every life occasionally
a window opens before us,
a window of opportunity.
It may not be a window to money,
but a window to more friends.
When we pass through it could lead us
to friends in many lands.
So the next time a window opens
just walk on through
you’ll never know
what lies beyond it there.
It could open
to the greatest treasure there,
love and friendship
just for you.
poem by David Harris
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No reaches
The heart approaches joy
But never reaches it.
The heart approaches women
But never reaches them.
Women keep their windows open
With doors always shut.
They will shut their windows too
As rainbows in me turn white.
Then I’ll house them in my inn
That I have built in my brain.
14.10.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ode To A Strict Lifestyle Of The Past
'twas the cruel time
with grandpa when dropping a grain
of rice on the table cloth is such a big crime
when you like to eat but you cannot swallow
the food
when you like to drink but the water tasted
as bitter as bile
when the conversations on the dining table
are shallow as affection is strange
as nothing becomes more important
than a future
not be be bound in the house anymore
when papa did not do anything
when mama simply sobbed
and stayed silence
and surrendered everything to God
all we waited is the blackness of the night
black because death is indifferent
because time is not a rescuer
of those who sank into
the bottom
of despair
i recall all these cruel times now
upon a grain of white rice
upon a coffee deprived of milk and sugar
upon a bread without the butter
upon a naked table
scratched with a knife
stained with tears
i look over the window
and stare at the black butterfly merely passing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love unlocks doors and opens windows that weren't even there before.
quote by Mignon McLaughlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Outside My Picture Window
It has been said that there is a world outside my picture window and
Beyond the trees I see everyday and the sky, sometimes overcast and
Other days, when the sun rises early- I can see the sky and have often wondered if
There exists another world within our universe- I know that
There exists a world inside of my mind and
My pupils are the windows into which
People would look if I were to venture outward?
Beyond the sky, and beyond the sun-
Beyond that world inside my mind,
I would never know where there exists a place for me-
Last night outside of my window
I could see the stars- stars mean different things to different people as
Does the sun, the trees and this whole world outside-
The world inside my mind revolves about
The sun that shines upon my own horizon and
As for this world outside, all I can do is look- and to
See a tree, perhaps a single cloud and the grass that grows-
I have shut my mind to the people who live beyond
The trees, clouds and the grass that I can see-
That window opens to the world inside of my thoughts-
I have just shut and pulled the curtain to discourage all intruders-
I am lying by my window in total darkness now as I place my hand over my eyes,
Shutting out reality and now I can see mountains, flowering trees and
A creek flowing in which I can see my reflection and
I am running upon the grass that grows beneath my feet-
I believe I heard music playing inside the fortress of my mind-
It has been said there is a world outside and I have pulled the curtain
To the window once opened to veracity-
Darkness has never looked as beautiful as I am safe here in my solitude-
Even when the stars are shining and the sky is such a magnificent sight to see-
No place is as exquisite as the creek that runs through my inner space and
The sun inside the world of my thoughts that shines upon my horizon?
The stars are far away and all that is real, though just outside my picture window
I perceive as too far away for me to reach- I would touch the stars and I could be a dove
That can lift my wings and fly away from all that threatens, but only inside my dreams-
Children sing songs and read fairy tales and they believe and I believe that
The sun shines light upon their worlds and
Someday their dreams shall blossom as has mine and shall become their homes-
Home is the safe place inside a person's mind, not within the madding crowd that
Exists outside my picture window- even if the stars are always there- and
That unique and special sun shall just keep on shining upon the world of my dreams….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Shut the Windows of the Past
Shut the windows of the past
And look forward to the future
Because the future is here
Right now for you
And you can take it with you
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Settling Fog
“Save, save, save me from the brutal hands, ”
The cries emerged early in the foggy morn,
In the month of December in frosty cold.
Then a volley of bullets was fired,
The cries instantly became silent;
The neighboring windows, the doors opened,
They seemed like black holes in the thick fog;
The lookers’ images appeared like phantoms,
Then smelling stinking smell of the foul game,
They shut tight the windows, the doors,
No one came to rescue the victimized being,
For the fog was settling before the sun rose.
poem by Shahida Latif
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Amazing Unknown
doors and windows dipped in dark
closing tight you sleep alone
when you sleep opens window other
another you just moving free from you
whether desert or jungle
whether graveyard or womb
your high ankles never touch the soil
swimming deep in moonlit waves
Ocean tranquils your immense burns
beauty placid fills your veins nerves
the blue above smiles
invites the journey with clouds
the shore
mangroves
long long stretched their mysterious depth
unrest your passion
diving desperate to embrace uncertain
fly with wind wings you spread
cities unknown of forgotten past
countryside-inn of unknown janapadas
opens window another
to brief you cosmic abyss
fly you cry you laugh your unchanted aura
when you sleep
always curious I can't follow
the journey
you alone
the journey
the glide...!
Pranab k c
Edited on 06/10/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Be Windows To Be Shut
Don't open the windows!
Cold air will rush in.
Don't open the windows!
Hot air will blow in.
Don't open the windows!
Mosquitoes are there.
Don't open my history!
Treacheries will snare.
Don't open my memory!
Debaucheries will slip out.
Don't open my very eyes.
I should not be a witness.
Let the windows be shut;
With that the past buried.
Switch on the air-conditioner.
Spray on the bed perfume.
I must enjoy my night
With the world outside shut.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Food
The food is ready on the table,
I have drink as well, and pleasure.
My husband achieved the mighty house,
And why does the life be magnificent
When death takes shape over the home?
Our sprightliness is upset by the recent event,
A deadly plant from the devil.
It grew from a bulb, an exotic egg of wonder,
The animals will be fouled.
I cannot smell it on the tongue,
But the nose can never do this.
My husband is my life, and plants are for dying,
But he upsets my experience with life
By quarrelling with myself
So that life of a plant has marred into death.
The food is ready on the table,
I do not drink from him anymore.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Through the doors of perception Down the corridors of uncertainty Into the room of self doubt Opens the window of opportunity.
Some Things Do Hurt
some things shall hurt
they are designed for that purpose
by some people
these architects of pain
but we shall not be swayed
into the ways of the curse
and degradation
let them draw the plan
and let them construct what they
want to
they will make doors that lock
when we get in
and we shall have to look for ways
ourselves to get out
from their schemes
they will make windows that will only close
and not open and we shall look for
holes where we can take in air
and breathe
we shall be their pawns
and the experimental guinea pigs of their
pains and distress
they may laugh for a while
and drink to our fate
they may proclaim that they are winning
to their pre-conceived notions
of what they believe as our own
stupidity and gullibility
we shall wait for the time
and that is what we are also designed to do
we shall wait when they all fall asleep
drunk to their evil ways
for soon this darkness will turn the table
and side with us
and we shall have the time to open the windows
and summon the moon to hear our pleas
to unlock the doors and summon the sun
to brighten our twilights of woes
we escape and we shall see that house of pain burned
to ashes
now it is our time
the last laugh, our freedom, our revenge.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Help me...
I am tired of knocking the windows and the doors,
Using my mighty limbs and legs and feeling the sadness,
At my heart, pushing the window as hard as I can,
People never hear my calling as they dip in their own,
Problems of puzzles that they have and I do not want to give up,
As I want to go out, then a hand pulled the knob to open up,
The closed window for me to fly out,
I am a butterfly, whose home is not a house.
I am lost in a house and trying to escape,
Just like this butterfly, we knock the same windows,
When we are clouded with worries and sorrows,
Not knowing that we need a hand to free us,
Banging again and again on the same window,
Blindly wishing for the window to be permeable,
Not knowing the needed help is available,
when the emotion is lost and the love is expired,
opportunities are erased and scarcity is established,
We do behave like this butterfly,
thinking the wrong as the right way.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Little Suzie
Got credit cards in my pockets
But I walk past bums all day
Why why why
I see dealers pushing poisons
But I have nothing to say
Why why why
I date two people at the same time
Knowing it is twice the sin
Why why why
Oh yes I have this little problem here I'm being vain again
Why why
Hey man I'm just listening to His teachings my soul and heart
This is God's movie and I'm just trying to play my part
Time is running out and we've broken the seventh seal
The more I read I realize that UFOs are real
Hey little Suzie
You don't have to cry no more
hey little Bobby
Don't you worry about the war
Hey little Jessica
You just keep up with the score
Cuz God closes the windows
Next thing you know He opens doors
I blew my paycheck getting real high today
Why why why
I lied and told my nephew that I had no more time to play
Why why why
I saw this lady gettin robbed I looked away
Why why why
I put my grandma in a home and made her stay
Why why
Hey man I'm just listening to His teachings my soul and heart
This is God's movie and I'm just trying to play my part
Time is running out and we've broken the seventh seal
The more I read I realize that UFOs are real
Hey little Suzie
You don't have to cry no more
hey little Bobby
Don't you worry about the war
Hey little Jessica
You just keep up with the score
Cuz God closes the windows
Next thing you know He opens doors
Singing la la la la la
Singing la la la la la
I give in church
But you are asking me where it really goes
Why why why
I could give more but I end up spending it on shoes and clothes
Why why why
I chew ice, look at my watch some Middle Eastern babies sold
Why why why
In the winter I have furs knowing some poor child is cold
Why why
Hey man I'm just listening to His teachings my soul and heart
This is God's movie and I'm just trying to play my part
Time is running out and we've broken the seventh seal
The more I read I realize that UFOs are real
What if the holy trinity was Christians, Muslims, Jews
Yet we bomb eachother for more coverage on the news
He was this he wasn't that he never touched the girl either way
Our messiah shall save the world
Hey little Suzie
You don't have to cry no more
hey little Bobby
Don't you worry about th war
Hey little Jessica
You just keep up with the score
Cuz God closes windows
Next thing you know He opens doors
(singing la la la la la)
Hey little Suzie
You don't have to cry no more
hey little Bobby
Don't you worry about th war
Hey little Jessica
You just keep up with the score
Cuz God closes windows
Next thing you know He opens doors
Singing la la la la la
Singing la la la la la
Singing la la la la la
song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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