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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Wistfully Watching
They explore the world
through windows,
church windows,
school windows,
two up, two down windows,
castle windows,
large windows,
small windows.
They see it all,
from blameless to guilty,
from noble to treacherous,
through windows.
From skyscraper windows,
to basement flat windows,
from paupers windows,
and palace windows
they watch, absorb, suck it in.
Later when they have grown
they will remember,
try to empathise,
rationalise
decipher the coded metaphors,
but some day
they will be demoralised
by the windows of life.
There they sit __ wistfully watching __
the children
of our times.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Factory Windows Are Always Broken
Factory windows are always broken.
Somebody's always throwing bricks,
Somebody's always heaving cinders,
Playing ugly Yahoo tricks.
Factory windows are always broken.
Other windows are let alone.
No one throws through the chapel-window
The bitter, snarling, derisive stone.
Factory windows are always broken.
Something or other is going wrong.
Something is rotten--I think, in Denmark.
End of factory-window song.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Let’s create windows In our minds
Houses and buildings
Have Windows
Buses and trains
Too have windows
When open
Light and fresh air
Comes in through them
Allows foul air to go out
When closed
Prevents Dust and filth
From coming in
Let’s create windows
In our minds
Allow good thoughts
To come in and enlighten
The mind
Let the bad thoughts go out
Close the window of the mind
When bad thoughts
Try to intrude in
Listen to what people say
With an open mind
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Brick Windows
Been bangin my head against the window
Just trying to see the world outside
Some people say it doesnt matter
Some people take you for a ride
I am covered in blood and broken glass
It seems the window likes to fight
Some people say the worlds on fire
Some people say the worlds on ice
Some people say the worlds on ice
? all alone in a relation
Brick windows
I am sticking my face right through the glass
Just trying to see if the worlds alive
Some people will say the windows broken
Some people will say its all right
Some people will say its all right
Keep bangin my head against the wall oh
Just trying to keep the past alive
Some people who make the windows shatter
Some people who make it airtight
Some people who make it airtight
? all alone in a relation
? all alone in a relation
Brick windows
Brick windows
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Steamy Windows
(tony joe white)
Well I was thinkin bout parking the other night
We was out on a back road
Me and my lady was just gettin right
All systems on overload
Radio blasting in the front seat
Turnin out the music fine
We were snuggled up in the back seat
Makin up for lost time
Steamy windows
Zero visiblity
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
You can wine and dine a lady all night
With good intent
But theres something about a rendezvous on a back road
That gets mighty intense
Steamy windows
Aint nobody can see
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Theres a sound outside the front door
And I know its just the wind
But it makes us wanna snuggle just a little bit closer
And it starts all over again
Steamy windows
Zero visiblity
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Steamy windows
Zero visiblity
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Steamy windows...
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Aint nobody can see...
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Windows
Through the windows you see so much.
Revealing love with the lightest touch.
Through them you see so much truth daren't be spoke.
I sit and look through the windows.
Seeing through all the innuendos.
Reveling in the sweet cresendo.
As I stare through the windows.
The boughs break, and in my heart I celebrate.
As I realize it will not break.
For hours through those windows I could stare.
Worlds a plenty are there to share.
In awe and splendor I now stare.
Through those windows a bright sun glares.
How much longer do I dare,
to stare through these windows that show me things so fair?
poem by Michael McParland
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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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On the Eight Floor
I live on the eighth floor
in a small flat
all alone.
A pair of windows in the flat
open outward.
Its terrifying.
I've put strong grills
on the windows.
Not that I apprehend danger
from outside. At this height
none dare intrude from outside.
The danger lies within me
terrible things happening around -
this isolation and boredom -
could any day force me
to jump out of the window.
poem by Kunwar Narayan
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Cars Hiss By My Window
The cars hiss by my window
Like the waves down on the beach
The cars hiss by my window
Like the waves down on the beach
I got this girl beside me
But shes out of reach
Headlight through my window
Shinin on the wall
Headlight through my window
Shinin on the wall
Cant hear my baby
Though I called and called
Yeah, right, woo!
Windows started tremblin
With a sonic boom
Windows started tremblin
With a sonic boom, boom
A cold girlll kill you
In a darkened room
Yeah, woo, ride, ride on, weooooo!
Wawa, eooo!, oooo, owa, owaaa!
Wa, waaaaea!, ooo, wa, wa, wa, wa, waa!, uh-huh
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Opening A New Window
come to my room
let us open a new window
that opens to another window
look at my face
and hold the side of my body
i will caress your hair with my hands
hold your body softly as a wind holds a feather
my fingers shall travel from the tips of your hair
down to the last tips of the toes of your feet
let us be happy, let us try opening another window
let us see the other windows hidden from our eyes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Steamy Windows
I was thinking about parking the other night
We was out on a back road
Me and my baby was just getting right
Our systems going overload
The radio blasting in the front seat
Churning out the music fine
And we was snuggled up in the back seat
Making up for lost time
Chorus
Steamy windows
Zero visibility
Steamy windows
Coming from the body heat
You can wine and dine with the men all night
With good intent
But theres something about the confrontation on the back road
Breaks down the defense
Chorus
Steamy windows
Zero visibility
Steamy windows
Coming from the body heat
Steamy windows
Aint nobody can see
Steamy windows
Coming from the body heat
Theres a sound outside the front door
And I know thats just the wind
But it makes him snuggle up just a little bit closer
Starts things happening again
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seeing Outside
The moon and the fog create
high up, a window;
a window which shows the eye
that stitches together
the outer and the inner,
that makes breath
seamless with thought
and dusts the windows
made from living tree bark
with a feather-duster of frost.
It seems so silly
to use a feather-duster
on solid, uninterrupted brown-
the proof that one need not see
through any window
to see outside.
2 august 08
poem by Rebekah Gamble
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An Emptiness Again?
this emptiness moves upon its hands
on the carpeted floors of the hallways
upon an old catholic church
the pillars as you see are taller
than the rugby players
the windows are as wide as the shoulders
of african men
i stand on the threshold of this door
the sun gets in
and i must choose which way to be
outside is the wind full of uncertain origins
inside there is this light that fears dissolution
the moment the wide window closes upon itself
there are two windows inside myself
i open them soon and then i will fly away
inside there is too much feasting
outside there is only your silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Hurt Ego....
some windows really are kept open
even at midnight
the moon in its fullness has always been
that welcome visitor
that sense of mystery long gone
opening a window has always been considered
a healthy option
and people who pass the street look at you
standing by the window
in openness
you trust that openness being arms that know the value of embrace
can be redeeming
in fact some children who play in the yard
have a way of looking at you as their idol
they clap their hands and dance for you
it happens almost all days of the year
the open window appears like a warm smile on the face of sorrow
not everyone likes it though
there is a crazy old man and he picks a stone and throws it against
your glass window
your window cracks and your smile become a word
with double meaning
what damage must have the old man caused?
you should know, you have too
wisdom still lies with the old
their discipline is still in the stone
that leave a scar
on the shattered glass
the ego, this self.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Windows Of The World
Just like a rose without a thorn
Defenses fade, weve come undone
Desire, the answer for harmony
This moment together
We can see
Deep into the night
Were looking through the windows of the world
Underneath the sky
Were opening the windows of the world
We stay afloat on this sea of storms
The tides of time carry us along
Beginning and ending with what we know
Surrender emotions
Here we go
Deep into the night
Were looking through the windows of the world
Underneath the sky
Were opening the windows of the world
Beginning and ending with what we know
Surrender emotions
Here we go
Deep into the night
Were looking through the windows of the world
Underneath the sky
Were opening the windows of the world
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Windows
Windows open vistas for us
Windows - of hearts, of minds or of eyes
Windows - which might open outward
Or inward
They bring the light on the other end to this end.
Windows converse
They open the alphabetical locks of our lips
When night weaves nets of darkness on windows
Life-spans speak out in whispers from abysses of pain
Windows then perforce remain silent
Suffer days of tongue-tied laws
Nights of oppression
And epochs of tyranny
Windows are self same stories of dreams
Of centuries
Mute testimony of chasms
Court yards and ruined houses
Evidence of rusted eons rattling with exhaustion
in tyrant time's primordium continuity
Windows have the heart of a woman
They open their body's wings of each clime
With a little waft of wind
With fragrance, sunlight, rain or moon beams.
They blow away paper-light images
And waste away life in uncharted desires.
When butterflies fly in front of windows
Eyes glued to window panes become tearful
With noontide memories.
Evenings look forward to a wayfarer passing by
When they're covered with climbers
holding forth red and white flowers
They fill closed fists with the touch of fire-flies.
Windows often insist on being kept open
They're surprised to watch cloud, birds
And the blue sky's expanse
If they're kept shut
They're afraid of the life breath of
Walls and rooms getting strangulated.
They're afraid of dwellers forsaking their houses
They also feel life's desertion
They also feel despondent
Windows are human beings!
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir
Translated from the original Urdu into English by Satyapal Anand.
Copyrights (C) All rights reserved.
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Broken Windows Shattered Mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
The tiny slivers fall like tears
They cut me till my arms run red
They make me wish that I was dead
And though I try to carry on
I know my time here's almost gone
Broken windows shattered mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
I'm surrounded by these fears
I know I shouldn't be afraid
I feel like I'm locked up in a cage
I push and pull try to get out
I scream until I just can't shout
Broken windows shattered mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
I'll have bad luck seven years
I know it's just a superstition
But I also know it's pure intuition
That made me stay not fade away
So I could live another day
Broken windows shattered mirrors
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Parade
As windows look out on windows here
They have to be kept closed often
Even if the sun and zephyr cannot enter,
When I'm tired of the walls
The television, the kitchen and the humdrum
I throw them open,
Catching eyes or movement,
On the other side
Now hurriedly shutting me out,
It's difficult to make friends -
No tenant stays for long
Next door or at the opposite window,
Perhaps driven to the suburbs
By the rent
Or opting for a city
With fewer desires -
I've seen a slow parade of faces
Like the infertile clouds
In the sky
Before they pass out of sight
Leaving no trace
Of their flight.
poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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