Empty Stations
Orbs of light drifted in the window
Along with coffee spells and smoke
The cold comes down with the dark
Quietly rippling the engine's roar
And sleep struggles to tranquilize
The hysteric sea resurging inside
In this transitory life I have waited
To be filled like an empty station
Marauded by forlorn passengers
Looking for right doors, numbers,
And tickets and vacancies;
I watched them mordantly
Remembering how hopeless
It is to search and stay,
Our feet are made for departing
Our arms for their arrival
And we can only waltz
To an inconsistent forever
In the plenitude of doors
And sleeping stations
Knocks would always arrive
Like a meaningless song
And some would come in,
Some would come out,
Tired, uninspired; searching
Hopeful, open; found
In this groaning repose,
Veiled by tobacco scent and
Shielded by a sooty window,
I held my ticket waiting to be torn
As I futilely wait for my own peace
When sleep heralds the night
And shifting unconscious states
Where you remained alive.
poem by Norman Santos
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The Railroad Man
Your eyes possessed the sunset of tomorrow
And denies the sunrise of today
Your callused hands burnt from the struggles
Yet flimsy with superfluous abandonments
Like empty stations, you futilely wait
To be filled, but in your sleep
You have forgotten the weight
Of your ethereal passengers
Encumbering your peaceful calm
I watched you watch the railroad tracks
But they never altered, do they?
I watched you watch the passing trains
And the faces antagonizing the ferry
For they are the faces of departing,
Faces of the arriving - unstained
Of any rue or purpose, aren't they?
A bloated gloaming came
And I espied you once again
Musing on the shaking ground
And the minutiae pyrotechnics
Bubbling in the railroad track
A resolute ruse upon your fisted hands
And a-letting go upon the other
The babel of voices came with a roar
And the alloy beast was before you
In this bending slope of the track
It decelerated speed while you
Grew stronger to face defeat
Before the last trail fade
You finally moved and morose
Was basking in the shadows you left
As you free-ride and surf the train
And there as a glow upon you:
A flicker of life pawned for a requiem
Is this what makes you safe?
Disentangling tethers that promised forever
Perhaps you knew that forever is a lie
Is this what makes you brave?
Departing the amiable promises
And saving cities from tragedies
Is this your fate?
Or your maneuver against it?
Before the mousetrap closes
I flung myself into the train
Now I come for oblivion
With ten thousand reasons
And ten million footsteps
I will never build a home.
poem by Norman Santos
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Hes Alive
The gates and doors were barred
And all the windows fastened down
I spent the night in sleeplessness
And rose at every sound
Half in hope of sorrow
And half in fear the day
Would find the soldiers breakin through
To drag us all away
And just before the sunrise
I heard something at the wall
The gate began to rattle
And a voice began to call
I hurried to the window
Looked down into the street
Expecting swords and torches
And the sound of soldiers feet
But there was no one there but mary
So I went down to let her in
John stood there beside me
As she told me where shed been
She said theyve moved him in the night
And none of us know where
The stones been rolled away
And now his body isnt there
We both ran towards the garden
Then john ran on ahead
We found the stone and empty tomb
Just the way that mary said
But the winding sheet they wrapped him in
Was just an empty shell
And how or where theyd taken him
Was more than I could tell
Oh something strange had happened there
Just what I did not know
John believed a miracle
But I just turned to go
Circumstance and speculation
Couldnt lift me very high
cause Id seen them crucify him
Then I saw him die
Back inside the house again
The guilt and anguish came
Everything Id promised him
Just added to my shame
When at last it came to choices
I denied I knew his name
And even if he was alive
It wouldnt be the same
But suddenly the air was filled
With a strange and sweet perfume
Light that came from everywhere
Drove shadows from the room
And jesus stood before me
With his arms held open wide
And I fell down on my knees
And I just clung to him and cried
Then he raised me to my feet
And as I looked into his eyes
The love was shining out from him
Like sunlight from the skies
Guilt in my confusion
Disappeared in sweet release
And every fear I ever had
Just melted into peace
Hes alive yes hes alive
Yes hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive yes hes alive
Oh hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive
Hallelujah hes alive
Hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive hes alive
I believe it hes alive
Sweet jesus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wasted Landing. Thoughts from an airport in disarray.
In the hour of our departure O Lord
In our beginning is our end
To depart is to arrive yet not to arrive
at the same hour and place
in some other time zone
and in our departing is our arrival
and to arrive is to depart from where we have not been
and to depart is to arrive at where we will not go
into the departure hall from where we did not depart
into the arrival hall where we did not arrive
and the end of all our departures is our arrival
that we may arrive at where we did not go
and depart from where we have not been.
now and in the hour of our departure Lord
I Tiresias have foresuffered all
on this self-same divan, or tired banquette
in the departure hall from where we have not departed,
in the arrival hall where we have not arrived,
and all our arrivings are departures
and all our departures are arrivings
departing from where we have not been,
arriving at where we will not go
the sun shines bleakly through the window panes.
into the planes the trim staff come and go,
(they stay at Novotel Michelangelo) ,
laundered into skies we cannot breathe.
'All flights are cancelled';
'Sorry Sir, this ticket is not valid for this flight'.
I Icarus have suffered thus
in Greece, in Rhodes, on all connecting flights,
in Delphi where I was not warned,
in Cumae where I could not go.
Passport Control. Do Not Pass This Point.
Too hot the sun of Greece that day,
the sun I shall not see.
'Arrival Delayed'. 'Flight Cancelled'
A cold coming we had of it:
the baggage heavy, and the escalator steep,
the information scanty and the children fractious,
and the people. Oh the people.
Cans. Packets. Yesterday's papers from yesterday's travellers.
Sandwiches they have not eaten.
Tread softly for you tread on my icecream.
Now and in the hour of our departure Lord
*
(re-edited)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Wasted Landing - thoughts from an airport strike
In the hour of our departure O Lord
In our beginning is our end
To depart is to arrive yet not to arrive
at the same hour and place
in some other time zone
and in our departing is our arrival
and to arrive is to depart from where we have not been
and to depart is to arrive at where we will not go
into the departure hall from where we did not depart
into the arrival hall where we did not arrive
and the end of all our departures is our arrival
that we may arrive at where we did not go
and depart from where we have not been.
now and in the hour of our departure O Lord
I Tiresias have foresuffered all
on this self-same divan, or tired banquette
in the departure hall from where we have not gone,
in the arrival hall where we have not arrived,
and all our arrivings are departures
and all our departures are arrivings
departing from where we have not been,
arriving at where we will not go
the sun shines bleakly through the window panes.
into the planes the trim staff come and go,
laundered into skies we cannot breathe.
'All flights are cancelled';
'Sorry Sir, this ticket is not valid for this flight'.
I Icarus have suffered thus
in Greece, in Rhodes, on all connecting flights,
in Delphi where I was not warned,
in Cumae where I could not go.
Passport Control. Do Not Pass This Point.
Too hot the sun of Greece that day,
the sun I shall not see.
'Arrival Delayed'. 'Departure Delayed'
A cold coming we had of it:
the baggage heavy, and the escalator steep,
the information scanty and the children fractious,
and the people. Oh the people.
Cans. Packets. Yesterday's papers from yesterday's travellers.
Sandwiches we have not eaten.
Tread softly for you tread on my icecream.
Now and in the hour of our departure Lord
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Window
All night long, by a distant bell,
The passing hours were notched
On the dark, while her breathing rose and fell,
And the spark of life I watched
In her face was glowing or fading, -- who could tell? --
And the open window of the room,
With a flare of yellow light,
Was peering out into the gloom,
Like an eye that searched the night.
Oh, what do you see in the dark, little window, and why do you fear?
"I see that the garden is crowded with creeping forms of fear:
Little white ghosts in the locust-tree, that wave in the night-wind's breath,
And low in the leafy laurels the larking shadow of death."
Sweet, clear notes of a waking bird
Told of the passing away
Of the dark, -- and my darling may have heard;
For she smiled in her sleep, while the ray
Of the rising dawn spoke joy without a word,
Till the splendor born in the east outburned
The yellow lamplight, pale and thin,
And the open window slowly turned
To the eye of the morning, looking in.
Oh, what do you see in the room, little window, that makes you so bright?
"I see that a child is asleep on her pillow, soft and white,
With the rose of life on her tips, and the breath of life in her breast,
And the arms of God around her as she quietly takes her rest."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Anatomy of Rue
The far flung tirade bellowed
into the gray reflection
and the resistance knelt
before its banquet of rue
but sleep was neglected
by the sullen eyes,
and tales were still narrated
into the frosted-glass
fearfully staring daggers
like a hysteric pistol
crying at point blank
knowing well that the only eyes
it can look into are the mirror's
The seasons passed hurriedly
but solace never came with
the showering yellow petals
and the breadth of trepidation
grew like a feral bush of ivies
and its thorns instilled
false-hopes in waiting futilely
for the sound of keys
unlocking my ajar doors
And here, in the decapitation
of my cloud's phantom-musing
I fell into a monastic languor -
limbs falling like yarns
untangled from the web of life
and in the wanton silence
I listened to the veracious absence
of pliant footsteps chasing
the setting of my red cooling star
It gave way for oscillating sequins
of the night to enthuse aeons
to go back to their weaving
of nostalgic poisons and
the monsoon beat like wings
escaping the hunter's net
Obdurately, the bridges held strong
even when the constitutions are burned,
I remember you as who you are
with a stark pang of grandiose
and remembering is no different
than breaking bones just
to prove that you are still alive
And as death sieges my garrison
with myriad auguries sifting through
the spurious altering lights
outside my cellared window,
the casted shadows on my walls
can only bring a cloak of life
into this steel-cold self-incarceration.
poem by Norman Santos
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Behind closed doors
Doors made of steel
others made of wood
life going on behind them
things that are bad and good.
Doors that are always closed
while some are forever open wide
behind doors can lie secrets
and where people can go to hide.
A door opened to a new future
another one blocking your way
families at war behind the door
but where children can happily play.
Prisoners locked in behind solid doors
waiting for the key to turn in the lock
as lonely people sit in their homes
waiting for someone just to knock.
The doors of Gold created in Heaven
only opened for the chosen few
behind them lies an eternal life
but will they open for me or you?
poem by Kevin Halls
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Key To My Life
You're the key to my life...
Rain on the window covers the trace
Of all the tears that I've had to waste
And now I'm missing you so
And I won't let you go away
Stain on the desktop where coffee cups lay
And memories of you forever will stay
And the scent of your perfume
And the smile on your face will remain...
And I never gave up hope when things got me down
But I just bit on my lip and my face began to frown
Cos that was just my pride and I've nothing else to hide
And now the way is clear and all I want to say is..
All of my life the doors have been closed now
And all of my dreams have been locked up inside
But you came along and captured my heart
song performed by by Boyzone from By Request
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Room (feat. Eric Clapton)
Ah, in a white room with black curtains, near the stations
Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings
Silver horses, run down moonbeams in your dark eyes
Drawnlight smiles on your leaving, my contentment
I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves
You said no strings could secure you at the station
Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows
I walked into such a sad time at the station
When I walked out, felt my own need just beginning I'll sleep in this place where the sun never shines
Wait in the dark where the shadows run from themselves
At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd
Consolation from the old wound now frogotten
Yellow tiggers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes
She's just dressing goodbye windows, tired starlings
I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back
Wait here with you where the shadows run from themselves
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To My Muse
there is no way
to tell
when
but i know
how to wait
like a dog
on a doorstep
i may sleep and
dream
but i always know
when it is time
to rise
and start to walk
and
play and
when it is
dark
to gaze upon
the promises
of your
stars
there is always
no way for me to tell
when is the right
time
for the teasing
or the
cheering
or perhaps the
weeping
and the wailing
(God forbid)
but i have always
mastered
the art of waiting
i know not
how to wage war
with you
i am always
at peace with
myself
comfortable
with the patience
of my arms
the gentleness
of my fingers
the sound beating
of my heart
and so i keep on
waiting
and sleeping and
dreaming
like a prophet
on the dungeon
or the desert
when you arrive
even as the lightest
waft of the wind
i will always know
when and why
and what to
do
exactly
this is a little
bit touchy
(or dramatic perhaps)
i only have eyes
for you
i know your scent
i read your mind
i can see your soul
i have and will
always
love you
even if...
you will not come
for me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hall Of Doors
You walk through the hall of doors
With life in sight with death in mind
You watch people open their doors
And you think of how the doors and fate bind
You watch waiting to see your exit
As you see others turn down their path to their end
You know that the paths can not change
You know even with time fate shall not mend
Down the hall you walk
Doors lining each side
Every person holds the key to one of those locks
All around you people stride
Doors open
As people come to their door mats
You walk by doors just hoping,
hoping the next isn't yours, isn't your mat
You watch parents and children leaving eachothers sides
You see love being torn, hate being sewn
as the doors open wide
Some people leave together, some alone
You wait to see your door, your fate
You watch to see which door your key fits
You watch to see if your heart is with love or hate
You watch untill you find the mat at which you shall sit
You walk through the hall of doors
With life in sight, death in mind
You watch as people open their doors
You wait to see which door your fate lays behind.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Outside331’sSleep
Don’t open your eyes yet not until I explain last night I went to bed with Sleep last night I fell for Sleep last night Sleep unclothed me left me naked in a room painted black I couldn’t see Sleep because Sleep was dark too and the room was black and the foreground blended in with the background I couldn’t tell what was far and what was close I became frustrated because Sleep was either hiding inside the room or the room was hiding behind Sleep neither were being fair to my eyes who wanted to play hide and go Sleep I hide inside the room and Sleep seeks I said where are you Sleep I can’t see you my eyes can’t find you Sleep I said I wanted to fall inside you brought me into this black room and I am trying to wrap myself around you won’t you come inside of me you won’t stage scenes in my eyes created with color everything is black one long stretch Sleep are you moving and I can’t see you or are you standing still and I can’t feel you are here Sleep you are silent Sleep I feel alone Sleep I want you to be inside me if you take me to a black room and make me go to bed are your eyes open I can’t see you did you leave is Sleep here Sleep am I inside you explain Sleep explain did you open your eyes Sleep are my eyes open Sleep are you outside me Sleep you took me to bed and left me Sleep I can’t open my eyes until you are back inside me I can’t see Sleep when you’re not inside me open your eyes Sleep do you see me inside you explain last night am I still inside Sleep?
(12-13-07)
poem by Chelsea Trescott
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Can You Feel It
Can you feel it, love is waiting there
When you feel it, Ill be waiting there
Something has come over me
I cant explain how full and free
I want you to feel it
Suddenly deep inside I have peace on my mind
I want you to feel it
On the last day that I walked the earth
I found the answer to the question that we all search
Where do we go from here
Can you feel it, love is waiting there
When you feel it, Ill be waiting there
Come inside, now you are cold
No colours block unopen doors
I want you to feel it
Suddenly deep inside, you have peace on your mind
Tell me, can you feel it
Its the last chance to take a look inside
Its up to you to change the world for a better life
Where do we go from here
Can you feel it, love is waiting there
When you feel it, Ill be waiting there
Can you feel it, love is waiting there
When you feel it, Ill be waiting there
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waterhole (Expresso Bongo)
I lie awake at night
Listening to you sleeping
I hear the darkness breathe
And the rain against the window
After all this time
Cynical and jaded
All the stones are diamonds
All the blues are faded
Everything I've been through
All I've seen and heard
Spent so much of my life
In the spiritual third world
But you came and brought the rain here
Something waiting to happen
Something learning to fly
We can talk without talking
From inside to inside
I have waited to feel this
For the whole of my life
We took ourselves apart
We talked about our faces
You said you didn't like yours
I said I disagree
I keep the pieces separate
I clutch them in my coat
A jogsaw of an angel
I can do when I feel low
From emptiness and dryness
The famine of our days
Watch the heaves open
Wash it all away
You came and brought the rain here
Something waiting to happen
Something learning to fly
On the edge of exploding
Something wild and alive
Something waiting to happen
Anytime that you like
I have waited to feel this
For the whole of my life
------------------------------------
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Son Never Shines (On Closed Doors)
I saw her there from afar
Her hair grey charcoal
Takes a drag from her tar
I kissed her a smile
But her blood red shot eye
Said the son never shines on closed doors
It's been eight long years since I saw
The woman who's labored
Since the day I was born
These wrinkles now face
To that cold dark damp place
Where the son never shines on closed doors
She said the son never shines on closed doors
I open to find only hurricanes blow
Take me away back to the green fields of May
Because the son never shines on closed doors
Death comes like a theif in the night
To steal while you sleep
The soul's flickering licght
Well maybe it's then
She said
song performed by by Flogging Molly from Drunken Lullabies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Road
I'm sitting at the wheel
I got a green light
Not afraid of nothin' cuz heart and soul
I'm built for life
So let the engine roar
Push the pedal down
I want the white lines on the highway
To lead me out of town
I'm rolling on and on and on
Who knows where I'm goin'?
Life is an open road - it's the best story never told
It's an endless sky - it's the deepest sea
Life is an open road to me
Life is an open road to me
I got headlights to guide me thru the night
I got the window down and the radio playing
It makes me feel alive
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dark Dreams
I'm in the dark
And I'm lost
In my mind, screaming
Through the empty
Space, filled with no light
All I hear is my echo
I listen and hear the echo
Of silent breaking through the dark
Nothingness that consumes any light
That I don't see, in this lost
Place of empty
Dreaming, in which I scream
Soon as it stops, the screaming
High painful cry, and the echo
Fades, leaving me again in the empty
Hallow thoughts of my dark
Sleep, and wander through my mind lost
Of what I had, it was my light
What I had was like a warm light
That held me from the bitter screaming
Of the cold, it found me when I was lost
It covered me like a blanket, and echoed
Through my soul, with it I was never in the dark
And never left empty
Now, in my sleep, I am empty
The warm blanket of hte light
No longer holds me, but exposes me to the dark
And painful piercing screams
Of my own voice echoing
In my nightmares of what I've lost
I am lost
In the emptiness
Of my own pain, that echoes
Through me, and all I want again is the light
For it I scream
In my dreams, but all I get in the dark
I dream of the dark and I'm lost
My screaming is only heard by the empty
Space in my mind, where light shined, but there is only echo.
poem by Nicole Hiebing
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When we sleep...
Before we go to sleep, we blame our conscience
When we sleep, we become unconscious
When we sleep, we dream
When we sleep, we may scream
When we sleep, we may cry
When we sleep, we may fly
When we sleep, we see our wishes
but when we get up to the reality, actually we wash the dishes
But sometimes, we see nightmares
and from the fear we feel like the snails
When we sleep, we feel relaxed
and to the bed we are waxed
We don't want to wake up
and drink the coffee cup
When we sleep, we can't resist
the tiredness that always exist.
Sleeping is a bless,
that everyone possess
But I hope human would not make it a curse,
and then we would need a nurse.
poem by Merna Ibrahim
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Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box
there are bomb? doors and there are revolving doors doors on the rudders of big ships and there are revolving doors there are doors that open by themselves there are sliding doors and there are secret doors there are doors that lock and doors that don't there are doors that let you in and out but never open but there are trap doors that you can't come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting To Happen
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
I lie awake at night, listening to you sleeping
I hear the darkness breathe
And the rain against the window
After all this time
Cynical and jaded
All the stones are diamonds
All the blues are faded
Everything Ive been through
All Ive seen and heard
Spend to much of my life
In the spiritual third world
But you came and brought the rain here
Something waiting to happen
Something learning to fly
We can talk without talking
From inside to inside
I have waited to feel this
For the whole of my life
We took ourselves apart
We talked about our faces
You said you didnt like yours
I said I disagree
I keep the pieces separate
I clutch them in my coat
A jigsaw of an angel
I can do when I feel low
From emptiness and dryness
The famine of our days
Watch the heavens open
Wash it all away
You came and brought the rain here
Something waiting to happen
Something learning to fly
On the edge of exploding
Something wild and alive
Something waiting to happen
Anytime that you like
I have waited to feel this
For the whole of my life
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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