Compulsion 5
it is there
it goes out
you want to hide it in your palm
in your clenched fist
it escapes
as perfume
as smoke
from the chimney
of the house
whose windows and doors you have closed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
It Is The Same Unrequited Love As The Old Song From The Mountain
the love is alive
within you and it wants to talk
and tell and just
be a smoke rising finally from the
confines of the chimney
from those closed windows
and locked doors
liberation, spirits freed from
what imprison them
just to say i love you and then
i go
it is enough it does not demand much
it says hello and then
keeps upon its pocket the word
goodbye
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The House Of Sin...
sin closes all
the windows and
doors
seals any
entrance of
streaks of
light
the foul smell
does not know how
to stay
the smoke of sin
roams around the house
until it finds
an exit on the
chimney
there is no scream
but the whole
neighborhood sees
and finds
you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Recovery Disc
i know what you are up to.
i know that you do not forget pain and i know that that pain is still there and no matter how you hide it
it comes like smoke from an old
dirty chimney
and at winter time it shows all the black soot
the gray smoke from the house
to the sky
i know that when you invite me you do not really mean to please me.
you just want to show the changes in the house
the rearrangement of the furniture
it no longer the rose in the vase but
a carnation
that you say is loved by another
but not you
i know what you are up to but i have already prepared myself for that
in my heart i must tell you
pain has no bed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Saturation Points...
buying furniture
is not an option, where
do you put them
in this crowded house?
clothes are a
no no,
he is fat and
clothes don't fit anymore
the spoons and forks
we have enough of them
left unattended
they rust in their secret
places
in the kitchen
the porcelain plates
are glossy
we become speechless
of such
beauty in fidelity
despite the fact
that we stop giving parties
and they have
become of no use
unlike before
we cook the traditional way
with firewood
and chimney and we
send the smoke to the
sky
our way of communicating
to God
daily.
now, we have become
too secretive with
technology
in our privacy
we do not keep any smoke
because we know
we cannot hold them
no matter how closed the
windows are
they always keep and
tell the story
guess what?
there is a need to buy
more blankets
we are feeling this
kind of indescribable cold
for the moment
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This House This Home
in this house the music of the night
is the soft rain from the sky falling upon the grass
like tiptoeing mothers watching their young children
sleeping and kissing their foreheads
there is no burning fire here from wood
and there is no smoke from a cigarette
it is dark as usual but it is desirable
even darker as there are no stars tonight
i am not sad
i am at home with myself in this house
i hear the symphony of winds and whispers
from the leaves of trees and the chants of earthworms
it is cold and so i have closed all the windows and doors
& then i curl beneath my blanket of roses
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Openness In Prayer
the walls of the
house are thick
and high
the windows are
closed
and so are the
doors
the roof is taken
away
for you to see
the sky the stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Something Uncommon
the little boy cried
last night he clenched his fist
and demanded
in fury that the window be opened
the mother who was not there
talked over the phone
through the elder girl
who was in charge of their
affairs
sensing the danger of
what may happen when the
window is opened
it was simple
i mean the boy's demand was simple
he clenched his fist against the moon
for what reason
i do not really know
at his young age at three
though i've been there once
i still cannot figure out why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The nebulous house abandon; But some live in
No doors and windows in the Mews
Mystery wind peeps and departs
And nothing remains.
But the rusty padlock
Still at the gate.
The rumour spreads among the villagers
Smoke goes to the sky in the night
From the bricked chimney
And smells roasted turkey
While a sad neigh echoes.
An officer goes for the Census
But the gate is locked at all.
* Those who grabs the perishable life never leaves?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smoke
smoke from the chimney
rises to the sky
and then gone
like us, did you not notice?
we are from here
this heart and then in pain
we rise up
we mix in space
there, do you see still us?
i do not see me anymore
i am fog dissolving in the morning
i am mist dissipating on glass
i am smoke
rising to the sky from the chimney
and then gone....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My House Was Not There
when the walls came down
and it was someone else for whom
the wind in windmills moved
and when the cyclone grew beyond the waters
to suck in deep within those maddened drops
my house had already been ruined in my heart
my doors had already been shut
my windows had already been closed
they opened in the sky
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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175
Gulped from the fist by the mouth
engulfed by the gut
spilled to the, tasting blood
the heart clenched it fist, while the crony brain
lit up like a fishing village.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Hidden Drive
there's a dirty house that's falling apart
some want to fix it but they don't know where to start
there's cobwebs and cracks in the walls
this is where rain's relief dares not to fall
no one really cares to help this place
they just look at the face
this old house is kept inside
with a disguising shell to hide
something i noticed as i passed by
at the house where hope will die
the windows were clean and new
though everywhere else the weeds grew
the windows had such an allure
i couldn't take it anymore
i gazed at the windows in awe
then through them i saw
the messy, run-down house inside
where beauty died
then i realized
something about eyes
eyes are the windows
clean and lovely for show
but behind them is the soul
sometimes your eyes will fool
the beauty and shine will not last
for one day, someone will see past.
poem by Alex Manson
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House Without Windows
La........
Im gonna buy myself (buy myself)
A house without windows (windows)
So I wont see you walkin by (walkin by)
And youll never see me cry
For all the lovin I had you treat me so bad and run away
So when you look inside (look inside)
You will never see me cry and cry
In my house without love
Im gonna build myself (build myself)
A house without windows (windows)
So I can hide the pan (hide the pain)
And youll never see me cry again
So when youre passing my way
Each time of the day ,youll feel the love in you
And you cant look inside
So youll never see my cry and cry
In my house without you
La....
(break)
For all the lovin I had , you treat me so bad and run away
So when you look inside ( look inside)
You will never see me cry and cry in my house without love
La....
(fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Ashes!
break out the windows,
kick down the doors!
stack all the old furniture...
and set fire to it!
the windows....
...through which we stared at life
......safe from its touch!
the doors....
....we closed in our fear
......of who we are
.......and what we see
...........in each other.
the furniture....
....we sat on and laid on
.......while the cries of the struggling
.........and the hands of the hungry
.............reached out...
the fire....
...that burns apathy with pure compassion
.......burns the lie of self till we find
.........the faces of God in the ashes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When you are in a state of nonacceptance, it's difficult to learn. A clenched fist cannot receive a gift, and a clenched psyche grasped tightly against the reality of what must not be accepted cannot easily receive a lesson.
quote by Roger John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Am I Needing This?
I am not those dark days lived.
To perform an existing within shadows.
I am not,
One who sits comfortably...
Fixed to fears,
Of my own image appearing...
On walls that I visit forelorned.
I can not accept a misery imposed upon me.
I can not accept...
My own reflection hinting with signs of neglect.
I am the light that brightly shines...
On the other side of closed windows.
I am the light that brightly shines...
Beyond closed and locked doors,
My mind has been convinced...
I'm needing more to restrict my addictions.
I'm needing more of this...
To keep and explore!
'I am not those dark days lived',
I say.
'I am not that one existing,
Within the restriction of shadows.'
I am the light that brightly shines...
On the other side of closed windows.
I live beyond closed and locked doors!
And yet I am a victim,
Of my own self inflicting addictions.
Why am I needing this...
To keep adventured and explored?
'Why am I needing this?
Why from it I just can't quit? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Change the world with turning the palm
Change the world with turning the palm
Turning upside
Turning downside
Changing the world is not as hard as you think
Turning outside
Turning inside
Changing the world could be as easy as turning palm
Palm is opened
Palm is closed
Clap! Clap! Clap! The astonishing sound heard
Palm is hailed
Palm is hugged
When all people do it together
Yes, we can make a different
Change the world with turning the palm
Hide away smile
Erase away tears
Changing the world with a slight change of mind
The fate is cast
The fate unknown
Changing the world by turning others opinion
Palm is embracing
Palm is praying
Crack! Crack! Crack! A flicker of hope seen
Palm is waved
Palm is offered
When all people do it sincerely
Yes, we can change the world
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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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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