Closed Door
sometimes we want to enter
a door
a closed door that does not open
no matter how hard we
knock
we try being courteous and gentle
and so patient
eating every waiting time
like we are the most foolish of all fools
knocking a closed door
seducing it more often with our
pleadings
begging and even compromising
for a dance
to convince the owner of the door to
open it
but no one hears, no one cares to listen
to our pleadings,
no one likes the dance of compromises
the door is still closed
and then the last crooked thing happens
we take the axe
and break the door which is closed
forcing it open
only to find that all the people there are dead
there is nothing inside
but mystery and
grief
an unsolved crime, no more
no less.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Door
Behind the door what happens
behind the door what's hidden
till you keep the door closed
you are not exposed
Elseone cannot peep in
Elseone cannot step in
other side of closed door
you live behind secured.
If you want door of others
to open for you
keep your door open for
who needs you.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Why Did God Close That Door?
He closed the door
and touches you but
you do not understand
why.
You silently cry.
He hears it.
You still do not understand
why that door is closed.
Until you find smoke
in the sky
Until you hear about
the dead people
in the room
Now you know why He kept
on closing the door
And here is one that He
opens for you
He says Welcome
This is the home reserved for you
Beloved.
Inside it is a garden
Flowers bloom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A glimpse
a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe
inspired by
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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L8,2212
There is a door which you open
you enter, and then it closes you
behind you
forever,
there is no force here,
but only volition,
you enter it
with all the warnings,
that the
possibility that it will close forever
has been told to you
over and over
again,
somehow, you do not make it a problem
you like a closed door, and you hate it
when it opens,
you love it when it is closed forever,
the room is nice
there is a certain loveliness
in there,
it has shiny floors,
it has a bright ceiling,
the lights are lovely,
like stars
in an open dark sky
the air is fresh,
the walls are comfortable
who wants to take an exit?
no one.not you.
when the door knows this, it will open
forever,
it decides to open for you
and it will tell you to go out and be
an outsider again and
be gone
for good,
you insist that you own this room now,
that a closed door is not a serious matter
and there is no way that you have to
go out
or be ousted,
the door has a stair with strong hands
and it will drag you out
it will pull your hair and drag your body
like hell
the door has learned its lesson
when the room is not a prison to someone else
there is no use keeping him there forever
for in truth the reason of the door's
existence
is to make you feel the prison and to suffer
and you know your lesson too well
there is no prison to a mind that is an open window
there is no suffering
to a lover of suffering
you see, it takes a little reverse psychology
for closed doors to open
for men to know that suffering is not suffering
at all
when one loves is tripping
when one thinks
otherwise
when one loves whatever happens
when one accepts
the one that is there and not look for something
that is always missing
why go for the unreachable?
why suffer for long?
life is life, and death is death
you are here, grab this here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Secret Place
i only have the key to that door.
i can open it anytime and stay there for a while
away from the crowd
away from the daily occurrences
it is a closed door
conference with myself where i talk and listen at the same time
it is dark but it is peaceful
it is small but everything in me is there: whole and intact
i only have the key
and i am not opening
or when i open it
i keep it closed that way
it is sacred
as sacred as my secret
it is holy
as holy as my soul
it is a mystery
for all the things that i worship
it is mine
and you are not welcome.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Open The Door - IV
Mom! Open the door
I have been waiting on the door
It is chilly cold, havn't sufficient clothes
Mom! please open the door
the sun is on head
may i get stroke
Mom! please open the door
Mom! open the door
it is raining cats and dogs
my clothes are fully drenched
Mom! please open the door
Don't be so truculent
I shalt be thy obedient son
Please open the door
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Rizal
i agree
education is the key
when the door if
finally opened
in fact a long time ago
and
we already had
333 years in that
Spanish convent and
43 years of
that Hollywood experience
another door has been
closed
and still
the key has to open it
one door leads to
another
same key
the young keep on getting
that key
another door is close
more keys
each key has become
more expensive
and some have thrown
that key away
meanwhile the Authority
is asking
that doors outside the country
be opened
export labor
brain drain
that is another key
problem
on the other
hand
it is not the money
it is the open mind
resilient to
poverty
taking time still to laugh
at those hard times
i agree
despite the irrelevance
it is still
the rightful key
the door is open
and we are inside it
no one
no one can take this house
again
from us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'll be knocking at deaths door
I will be knocking on the door
Knock knock knock
Knocking at deaths door
Begging to be let in.
I'm near to deaths door
An overdose
And slit wrists
Along besides me.
Knock knock
Please let me in
deaths door
Please open
Please let me in
I hate my life
I cant cope
I'm desperate
plase let me in
Deaths door has opened
Now I've left it all behind
I'm in deaths world
Im gone
Im free
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Let My Love Open The Door
Pete Townshend) (various dates)
The people keep repeatin'
The children follow along
Everybody keeps from changin'
And you could say you did enough...
Let my love open your door... (3x)
To your heart...
Let my love open the door (2x)
When everything feels all over
Everybody seems unkind
I'll give you a four-leaf clover
Take all worries out of your mind
Let my love open your door... (3x)
To your heart...
Let my love open the door...
To your heart...
Let my love open the door...
Have the only key to your heart...
I can stop you from fallin' apart
Tried to say in my own way...
Somebody give me the chance to say...
Let my love open your door...
It's all I'm lookin' for
And erase yourself from misery
There's only one thing that's gonna set you free...
When trouble really falls you...
Don't let it tie you down
Love can cure your problems
You're so lucky I'm around
Let my love open your door... (3x)
To your heart...
Let my love open the door...
To your heart...
Let my love open the door... (5x)
Oh...to your heart...
Oh...baby, I know I said, I said, I said, I said, I said, I said...
...I said, I said, I said, I said, I said, I said...
Oh...na na na...let my love open the door...
Let my love... (2x
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Learning
there is a door
between us as though
we are just
two adjacent rooms
to enter into your door
i need to have that key
you keep on telling me
the key was lost and you
do not know
where to find it anymore
there is another door
and you are allowing someone else to come in
at first i say 'This is unfair! ' and
I thought of forcing
that door open
on the other hand
i have my own door too
and the lock is broken
a long time ago i have
thrown out the key
for what use is a door with
a broken lock?
and for what use is your door
to my prayer?
i do not know what force is &
i already stopped begging
i change the frames of my window
i have some other plans in mind
there are nine planets in our
galaxy
there are many galaxies
in unlimited space
and like all those who still hope
they always know
that someone somewhere keeps
on waiting
in a world where doors welcome me
like arms in half-embrace
and so i go to places where
my feet are welcome
& i have learned the happiness
of forgetting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your shop door
I looked at the sign on your shop door
it didnt say open or closed
I tried the handle because I wasnt sure.
Thats why im here inside
Well that and the fact I want some sweats
my dad often goes to the Cafe
and they look at him when ever he eats
he takes a packed lunch
he sits on the seats
there was this one time when he got a punch
it was because he wasnt allowed to buy
they threw him out they give him a black eye
they spat on him and I never knew why.
I looked at the sign on your shop door
it didnt say open or closed
I tried the handle because I wasnt sure.
That cafe he entered was open
and he was not there when the window was broken
he just needed somewhere to sit on a rainy noon
an accent like his?
The roads were his only room.
They're tools? Knives, falks and spoons
His? a shovel, a graft, to dig out the root which so many hold onto.
I pass your shop every day thinking,
'Open or closed to enter I dont know if I want to'.
poem by Daniel McCann
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A Door To World Peace
The door to world peace is open.
All nations are invited to come in.
A welcome mat is available for every one,
And rogue nations may enter again.
The door to world peace is open
And no nation is turned away,
But if few decide not to enter the fold,
Peace will be shortlived in every way.
Peace keepers fill our hearts with hope,
And attempt to dry our heavy tears,
And open hearts for sound relationships
That will last for many delightful years.
A nation that is closed to others
Grows harder than concrete or stone,
And the people who reside there
Are destined to be isolated and alone.
If you slam the door on some nations,
Peace initiatives will continue to cease,
But if all nations are willing to compromise,
What a difference it can make to seek peace?
Skeptical nations will always wonder
How world peace might have been
When the door was open for them to enter,
But they failed to come in.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Sign On The Door
Wendys sittin next to me shes trying hard to drink it away and I feel the rumble of the subway beneath the stage and her eyes are screaming and her lips are pursed and this aint he
St heartache but it feels like, it feels like the worst and she says can someone tell me how this can happen and I guess that God only knows my heart used to be the sweet shop of lov
Ut now the sign on the door it says sorry were closed and I hear myself tell her some old words I know they wont help and then I feel guilty cause I closed some sweet shops myself
We all talk about timing and lifestyles and such but to a heart thats been shattered those words dont mean that much and all of our pining it just goes to show dont you enter a sh
With the sign on the door saying sorry were closed and shes been through all the pain that one can endure and her new man thinks she loves him but he cant be sure and his heart pi
R>
For wendy she says thats how it goes how am I supposed to know he cant read the sign saying sorry were closed yeah were closed and she says can someone tell me how this can ha
and I guess that God only knows my heart used to be the sweet shop of love but theres a sign on the door theres a sign on the door theres a sign on the door theres a sign on th
R one more sign
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hanging Fire
I am fourteen
and my skin has betrayed me
the boy I cannot live without
still sucks his thumb
in secret
how come my knees are
always so ashy
what if I die
before morning
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
I have to learn how to dance
in time for the next party
my room is too small for me
suppose I die before graduation
they will sing sad melodies
but finally
tell the truth about me
There is nothing I want to do
and too much
that has to be done
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
Nobody even stops to think
about my side of it
I should have been on Math Team
my marks were better than his
why do I have to be
the one
wearing braces
I have nothing to wear tomorrow
will I live long enough
to grow up
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
poem by Audre Lorde
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Hanging Fire
I am fourteen
and my skin has betrayed me
the boy I cannot live without
still sucks his thumb
in secret
how come my knees
always tremble
what if I die
before the morning comes
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
I have to learn to dance
in time for the next party
my room is too small for me
suppose I die before graduation
they will sing sad melodies
but finally
tell the truth about me
There is nothing I want to do
and too much
that has to be done
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
Nobody even stops to think
about my side of it
I should have been on Math Team
my marks were better than his
why do I have to be
the one
wearing braces
I have nothing to wear tomorrow
will I live long enough
to grow up
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
poem by Gabriella Maben
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Contemplation On The Climbing Of The Stairs...
as i climb the stair
i always think what is up there
when i arrive there
the door is closed
and i am thinking why
contemplating on the other possibilities
shall i open the door
and ask myself in
what if there is nobody there
what if it is just a door and there is nothing inside
i sit on the the last step
and i think again
what if it is not the stair after all
but only the ground
or the pebble or the grass
what if it is only myself and there is nobody else
what if i am just dreaming
what if i am nothing at all
but a thought
without weight without volume
what if this is all about air
a breath a hush a slip?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sweetest Lie
when i arrive there
the window is closed
i know a shadow
lurking behind it
i sense desire
you peep and i see you
your eyes speak
that i may come inside
the door that
is half open
i do not think that much
i enter the door
and close it behind me
two shadows fade
when the lights are switched off
we feat on such
a beautiful silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Knock Two Knocks
One knock, Two knocks
Who's at the door?
Come out once more
One knock, Two knocks
Who's at the door?
Come out and see for sure
A world melts, as one developes
A world ends, as one begins
One Knock, Two knock
Who's at the door?
Open it once more
One Knock, Two knock
Who's at the door?
Come closer and it just might poor
Devastation has come to me.
I hear it like the knocking
The ground is rocking
Given the eyes of a blind man I once again can see
With wings I rise and soar.
Thoughts with clarity I explore
Got to get a better view, maybe from an enormous mountain up so high
Focus on the crystal ball, reading a fortune from the sky
Oh such, such pretty pretty ball
Just let it fall, down to a place full depravity, and derogation
With one Revelation after another they come
knocking knocking on my door
Will I answer, oh will I answer
Only if I must
And its forever open with one fell gust
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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My Imagination
Its four in the afternoon,
I’m sitting with pen in hand
waiting patiently for
my imagination to break through
but it seems to be held back
behind a closed door.
My mind and my pen
want it to find the handle
open the door and come in.
However, it seems hesitant,
why I don’t know.
My thoughts are wandering
in different directions
and not on a steady course.
Maybe that is why
my imagination can’t get in.
26 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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THIS THING called discrimination
it is when you walk together
with someone you barely know
towards a place
where there is a door still closed
to open at 9 a.m.
and both of you wait
for the right hour
and then the right hour comes
and a strict lady opens the door
carries a folder and calls out a name
just her name
and she smiles at her
and she smiles at her too
and then she lets her in and
she looks at you
without any civility
and she closes the door and
you do not see anymore
what is going inside the room
something so private
the door tells you that
you feel the pain
and yet you are not leaving still
i am telling you
you're the craziest Asian that i have ever known
in this whole cruel white world.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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