Intimacies Of The Nights
do not tell your name to the night
for you may be finally embarrassed
humiliated by the standards of the
day, the strictness of light
that binds and blinds
to the wildness of the nights
submit, but always be concealed
like the hidden face of the back room
the curtains of the door
the bowls of the rest rooms.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Welcome To The Door Of Freedom
this is the door of freedom
you just got in
i have a room beyond this room
no one has entered yet
between this door and my room
is a space
this is where some pieces of my are left
but soon they will be taken back
to be kept inside my palms
to be hidden once again from you
when you get in
you will be introduced to the ritual of knowing
what you do not know
what you cannot know
what shall be hidden forever from you
and you shall be a little bit
disappointed
but you must insist
you have to repeat your name many times
you will sort out the letters
there are onions and chilies
they will make you cry
and then you will wish upon another door
this time it is your door
towards your own room
you will doubt about breathing
about windows and exits
and then you begin to ask
if all these are worth it
you decide.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Room
(chris waters/tom shapiro)
When I pull in the drive where your car used to be
It doesnt hurt me like it used to
I can walk through the door, and not wonder anymore
Where you are, like I used to
I can go down the hall, see the pictures on the wall
And not miss you
But I just cant bring myself to go into..
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Id remember too much if I opened that door
And Im not sure if I could face it
The beds emptiness would remind me youre with
Someone else, and I couldnt take it
So, I sleep on the couch in our living room now
Since our love died
cause Im still not ready yet to go inside...
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Where the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Marriage
Marriage for Esme began as a wide open room
with windows that let in the sunshine
and curtains so light and airy
they floated on the breeze.
Her husband's blue eyes would sparkle
with just a hint of mischief
and fun that they intrigued her,
made him special.
Then in the second year on her birthday
it seemed the room had grown dusty,
the curtains seemed dull,
the windows small.
And in the third year, without a doubt
the sun had gone down on her
and the room held a chill
like her aching heart.
By the fifth year, she'd aged,
her eyes had shadows, her skin had paled
and the room seemed small
with no windows at all.
She had shriveled, was withdrawn,
she'd sit in the corner of the room humming,
rocking back and forth, back and forth,
back and forth........
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Allegory Of The Cycle Of Doors
and so there is this door that appears before you
and you open it
and then when you enter the room
another door appears
this is the cycle of doors that keep on appearing and you
keep on opening
but the room still appears from a distance
always distant
from your eager feet to enter
you say to enter the room i must please the door
but the room moves away just the same
and the door tells you
to keep the room
you have to burn it and when the room is burned
the door finally disappears
and then both the door and the room shall tell you
now be happy
for you now have a house of your own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sub Culture (Razormaid!)
I like walking in the park
When it gets late at night
I move 'round in the dark
And leave when it gets light
I sit around by day
Tied up in chains so tight
These crazy words of mine
So wrong they could be right
What do I get out of this?
I always try, I always miss
One of these days you'll go back to your home
You won't even notice that you are alone
One of these days when you sit by yourself
You'll realise you can't show off without someone else
In the end you will submit
It's got to hurt you a little bit
I like talking in my sleep
When people work so hard
They need what they can't keep
A choice that leaves them scarred
A view without a room
Unveils the truth so soon
And when the sun goes down
You've lost what you had found
What do I get out of this?
I always try, I always miss
One of these days you'll go back to your home
You won't even notice that you are alone
One of these days when you sit by yourself
You'll realise you can't show off without someone else
In the end you will submit
It's got to hurt you a little bit
One of these days you'll go back to your home
You won't even notice that you are alone
One of these days when you sit by yourself
You'll realise you can't show off without someone else
In the end you will submit
It's got to hurt you a little bit
What do I get out of this?
I always try, I always miss
One of these days you'll go back to your home
You won't even notice that you are alone
One of these days when you sit by yourself
You'll realise you can't show off without someone else
In the end you will submit
It's got to hurt you a little bit
What do I get out of this?
I always try, I always miss
One of these days you'll go back to your home
You won't even notice that you are alone
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dropping By Your House This Morning
i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may
but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep
the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass
there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night
i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's
the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Quiet Lodger
The man that rooms next door to me:
Two weeks ago, this very night,
He took possession quietly,
As any other lodger might--
But why the room next mine should so
Attract him I was vexed to know,--
Because his quietude, in fine,
Was far superior to mine.
'Now, I like quiet, truth to tell,
A tranquil life is sweet to me--
But _this_,' I sneered, 'suits me too well.--
He shuts his door so noiselessly,
And glides about so very mute,
In each mysterious pursuit,
His silence is oppressive, and
Too deep for me to understand.'
Sometimes, forgetting book or pen,
I've found my head in breathless poise
Lifted, and dropped in shame again,
Hearing some alien ghost of noise--
Some smothered sound that seemed to be
A trunk-lid dropped unguardedly,
Or the crisp writhings of some quire
Of manuscript thrust in the fire.
Then I have climbed, and closed in vain
My transom, opening in the hall;
Or close against the window-pane
Have pressed my fevered face,--but all
The day or night without held not
A sight or sound or counter-thought
To set my mind one instant free
Of this man's silent mastery.
And often I have paced the floor
With muttering anger, far at night,
Hearing, and cursing, o'er and o'er,
The muffled noises, and the light
And tireless movements of this guest
Whose silence raged above my rest
Hoarser than howling storms at sea--
The man that rooms next door to me.
But twice or thrice, upon the stair,
I've seen his face--most strangely wan,--
Each time upon me unaware
He came--smooth'd past me, and was gone.
So like a whisper he went by,
I listened after, ear and eye,
Nor could my chafing fancy tell
The meaning of one syllable.
Last night I caught him, face to face,--
He entering his room, and I
Glaring from mine: He paused a space
And met my scowl all shrinkingly,
But with full gentleness: The key
Turned in his door--and I could see
It tremblingly withdrawn and put
Inside, and then--the door was shut.
Then silence. _Silence_!--why, last night
The silence was tumultuous,
And thundered on till broad daylight;--
O never has it stunned me thus!--
It rolls, and moans, and mumbles yet.--
Ah, God! how loud may silence get
When man mocks at a brother man
Who answers but as silence can!
The silence grew, and grew, and grew,
Till at high noon to-day 'twas heard
Throughout the house; and men flocked through
The echoing halls, with faces blurred
With pallor, gloom, and fear, and awe,
And shuddering at what they saw--
The quiet lodger, as he lay
Stark of the life he cast away.
* * * * *
So strange to-night--those voices there,
Where all so quiet was before;
They say the face has not a care
Nor sorrow in it any more--
His latest scrawl:--'Forgive me--You
Who prayed, 'they know not what they do!''
My tears wilt never let me see
This man that rooms next door to me!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Big Light
Well I had a little feeling to have a big night
And woke up feeling small and not so brave and not quite right
I had to face the who am I and where is she and what did I do
But worst of all I had to face the big light
The big light came through my window and it opened up my eyelids
And it snapped them up like roller blinds and told me things that I did
I cant face another day and night of good ideas and complications
And Im thankful that I didnt open another bottle of inspiration
When the hangover this morning had a personality
And I cast my shattered mind over selected memories
I didnt even touch the light switch so I knew Id never see
The haggard face that would be staring back at me
Well I had a little feeling to have a big time
And I woke up to alarm bells like a big church chime
I had to face the who am I and who is she and what did I do
But worst of all I had to face the big light
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Sadness of The Empty Home
The light flickers on
Illuminates the empty hallway
The thud, click of a door in closing
Brings a silence to the room
A heavy sigh escapes
A look to the mirror sees only
Tired eyes looking back
A bag lain upon the small table
The light turned back off
On route to yet another room
Light creeps through the window
Allowing enough to see
The sound of a running tap
Filling the kettle for a final drink
Keys thrown upon a side
The clatter of cups and spoons
Then further silence
Now the creaking of a staircase
Another door opened
Another light flicked on
The curtains drawn to the world
Drink set beside the bed
The silence of the empty home
Fills the heart with loneliness
A television switched into life
Nothing worth watching
Just a sound there to fill
The silence and the sadness
Of the empty home
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A little Ghost Story
As I was going to bed
I turned out my light
tucked myself in
on a long winter's night
All of a sudden
I heard a door squeak
I thought someone was in my house
so I decided to take a peak
I heard the wind blow hard
and started to shiver with fear
and heard some noises again
but this time I knew I was near
I went into the living room
and noticed my door was opened wide
squeaking back and forth
I laughed so hard I almost cried
So I decided to go back up to my room
When I heard some terrible cries
I rushed to my room real quick
but a ghost stopped me in surprise
I ran and yelled
and I ran outside my house right then
and decided I would never
go back to that house again
At my new house
I turned out the light
you can probably guess
what went on that night
poem by Shaina Lloyd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Finally Found My Way To You
So many people tried to help me on my way
So little time and theres still so much left to say
Theres no explaining all the things that Ive been through
But Ive finally fount my way to you
I finally found my way to you
Now the day is endhing and the night begins to fall
Sometimes I wonder if Ill make it back at all
I gave up everything I had and ever knew
But I finally found my way
Finally found my way
I finally found my way to you
Remember how we used to hide away
Wed share the secrets of our souls
Turn down the lights and dance the night away
Wed dance the night away
Wed dance the night away
Remember how we used to hide away
Wed dance the night away (x 4)
And now Ill hold you like I never have before
Ill let you go just long enough to lock that door
The words I whisper come so late and overdue
But I finally found my way, I finally found my way
I finally found my way to you
To you baby.
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Draw String
The curtains in my living room
lift and fall
gracefully
as I pull their strings each day;
marking the rise and fall of each
season
and each day in between-
punctuation
for the life between you and me.
Like my skirts
they lifted first
and fell
on our wedding bed
on our wedding night-
and now gracefully on special nights;
They rose to the realities
of married life-
fell during our dark times-
and ring during the good times
with loving making
and bedroom laughter.
I cannot
each time I draw
the strings
but marvel
at morning light;
folding away yet
another night
with you.
.
My curtains offer me regularity
which is comforting to me.
I dust them-
not often enough
worn with the years;
uplift them
for the view of the garden
and you coming home
over the back fence.
I draw them each time
anticipating
magically
in doing
so
you, too,
are drawn
home
to my bosom
each day.
Watch
as I draw
this string.
You'll see:
He'll be there
coming over
the back fence;
home to me.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wildness
Oh the nights were wild
as wild as they could be,
and I welcomed every night that came
for I was as wild as thee.
And as wildness took us
wherever we hoped to be
we looked forward to new adventures
where wildness made us free
to explore our love
with wild abandon
and from which we cannot flee.
For the call of the wild is intoxicating.
This call is our destiny.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Urn....
He finally pulled in the drive.
Another endless night at work.
Exhausted, he turned off the car,
and stumbled for the back door.
The neighborhood cat rubbed
against his legs as he fumbled
for the key.
As he opened the door, he noticed
that the light over the sink was on.
Shaking his head, he shrugged, and set
down his lunchbox.
He reached in the cupboard for the
bottle and a glass. He poured a small
shot, and hesitated for a moment.
He could hear the night just outside
the window. Something inside of
him let down. He kicked back the shot,
and headed for the bathroom.
A quick shower, and he found his way
to the bedroom. Lying naked on the
bed, he lit a smoke, trying not to think.
He could hear the ticking of the clock in
the hallway. He put out the cigarette, and
dozed.
He awakened to the scent of her perfume.
He heard her voice, whispering, 'be still'.
He felt the presence of her body in the bed.
Her long hair draped across his face. He
felt her on top of him, her heat and her desire.
He raised his face to kiss her....
And then she was gone! Startled, he groped
at the bed, clutching air. He sat up and flipped
on the lamp.
The room was empty. A few crumpled dirty
clothes in the floor. The book he'd been reading
on the nightstand. But no sign of her!
His hands shaking, he lit a smoke, and blinked.
He looked around the room again.
Every nook, every cranny, every crack in the paint.
Finally, his eyes fixed on her dresser.
A picture of her on their wedding day. A half empty
bottle of her favorite perfume. And the urn.... the
urn, with her wedding ring lying on the base.
He flipped off the lamp, and wept.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It's curtains for me
PRETTY PINK, GENTLE WHITE
BULBOUROUS FOLDS NICE AND TIGHT
SPINDLY STALKS THAT MAKE BELIEVE THEY SWAY
SWORDLIKE BLADES, THAT WAIT FOR DAY
THE GLOW OF LIGHT THAT’LL BATHE YOUR ROOM
SO OFTEN DRAWS YOU OUT OF YOUR GLOOM
NO MATTER A GREY DAY
OR WHEN THE SUN IS DETERMINED TO HAVE IT’S SAY
FORGET MODERN BLINDS
LEAVE THEM BEHIND
CURTAINS DO IT FOR ME
TAKE A LOOK AND SEE
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Finally See
do I love her do i wanna wife
her or one night her is she the one i dream of during the night
then the sun shine so bright it blinds me so i can't see if it's meant to be but sun don't shine so i can see if her heart is with me
please tell me how could this be the sun is blinding me from lovein
the one who worships me and pleases me but never hurts or betrays me can the the sun stop shining so i can see clearly that her love is were i want to be can u please tell me how much she really loves me
i'm here to say that i don't really won't her to finally part from me cause
now i'm not blind I finally see but now it to late she will come back to me but i'm not bay i see now your the one for me
please sun stop blinding me my love has finally left
but now i see and her love will never be with me.
poem by Adrianna Rorie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Robinson At Home
Curtains drawn back, the door ajar.
All winter long, it seemed, a darkening
Began. But now the moonlight and the odors of the street
Conspire and combine toward one community.
These are the rooms of Robinson.
Bleached, wan, and colorless this light, as though
All the blurred daybreaks of the spring
Found an asylum here, perhaps for Robinson alone,
Who sleeps. Were there more music sifted through the floors
And moonlight of a different kind,
He might awake to hear the news at ten,
Which will be shocking, moderately.
This sleep is from exhaustion, but his old desire
To die like this has known a lessening.
Now there is only this coldness that he has to wear.
But not in sleep.—Observant scholar, traveller,
Or uncouth bearded figure squatting in a cave,
A keen-eyed sniper on the barricades,
A heretic in catacombs, a famed roué,
A beggar on the streets, the confidant of Popes—
All these are Robinson in sleep, who mumbles as he turns,
“There is something in this madhouse that I symbolize—
This city—nightmare—black—”
He wakes in sweat
To the terrible moonlight and what might be
Silence. It drones like wires far beyond the roofs,
And the long curtains blow into the room.
poem by Weldon Kees
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Remembering The Smell Of Youth
smooth pillow, warm blanket,
a woman's body so white
and calm
light is shun by the door of the room
on closed silk curtains by the window
i still taste the youth in spring
its perfume still remaining in the air
late at night, the same smell
comes even in my sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Finally Found My Way
So many people tried to help me on my way
So little time and there's still so much left to say
There's no explaining all the things that I've been through
But I've finally fount my way to you
I finally found my way to you
Now the day is endhing and the night begins to fall
Sometimes I wonder if I'll make it back at all
I gave up everything I had and ever knew
But I finally found my way
Finally found my way
I finally found my way to you
Remember how we used to hide away
We'd share the secrets of our souls
Turn down the lights and dance the night away
We'd dance the night away
We'd dance the night away
Remember how we used to hide away
We'd share the secret's of our souls
Turned down the lights and dance the
Night away
We'd dance the night away
We'd dance the night away
Remember how we used to hide away
We'd dance the night away
We'd dance the night away
And now I'll hold you like I never have before
I'll let you go just long enough to lock that door
The words I whisper come so late and overdue
But I finally found my way, I finally found my way
I finally found my way to you
To you baby
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Spectres
How terrible these nights are when alone
With our scarred hearts, we sit in solitude,
And some old sorrow, to the world unknown,
Does suddenly with silent steps intrude.
After the guests departed, and the light
Burned dimly in my room, there came to me,
As noiselessly as shadows of the night,
The spectre of a woe that used to be.
Out of the gruesome darkness and the gloom
I saw it peering; and, in still despair,
I watched it gliding swift across the room,
Until it came and stood beside my chair.
Why, need I tell thee what its shape or name?
Thou hast thy secret hidden from the light:
And be it sin or sorrow, woe or shame,
Thou dost not like to meet it in the night.
And yet it comes. As certainly as death,
And far more cruel since death ends all pain,
On lonesome nights we feel its icy breath,
And turn and face the thing we fancied slain.
With shrinking hearts, we view the ghastly shape;
We look into its eyes with fear and dread,
And know that we can never more escape
Until the grave doth fold us with the dead.
On the swift maelstrom of the eddying world
We hurl our woes, and think they are no more.
But round and round by dizzy billows whirled,
They reach out sinewy arms and swim to shore.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!