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
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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
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273
try to look at it from a different
perspective
dexter
when your prayers are not granted
it is not because
you do not deserve to be there
it is not because
you are lesser that those who are now
seated in the front
handshaking with greatness
it is simply because
God has barred the door
where you are going to enter
the room of your
perdition
just wait
the right door for you
is yet unfinished
the room there
is suited for you
and for no other
soon, you will understand
but i know for sure
God has always heard you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dexter Always Remember
try to look at it from a different
perspective
dexter
when your prayers are not granted
it is not because
you do not deserve to be there
it is not because
you are lesser that those who are now
seated in the front
handshaking with greatness
it is simply because
God has barred the door
where you are going to enter
the room of your
perdition
just wait
the right door for you
is yet unfinished
the room there
is suited for you
and for no other
soon, you will understand
but i know for sure
God has always heard you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In my house
You enter a room to see a park
You close a door only to be led to another stairway
Leading you to another room with nothing but windows
You close a window the rest remains open
You close the windows and another door
In that park in the room where you just entered
Opens
Then you are confused about the roof that opens
To a river to the rocks where another door opens
To a wall with trees and birds and butterflies
This is weird you say, this is really weird
Then from the garage comes a wind that blows
Its horn like a car
I have just arrived offering you an explanation
For all these mess, these uncertainties, these self-made
confusions.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Oh where is heavens door?
Where do we mortals find that narrow heavenly Door?
Through which millions of people have entered before?
It is found at the cross of Jesus The Crucified
where He paid for our sins and laid down His life and died.
With His arms outstretched so wide and saying, 'Come to me'
there we find forgiveness by His death at Calvary.
Then we see the Door before us swing open so wide
allowing us to pass through the veil to heavens side.
Calvary's cross is the Door through which we can go through.
There is no other entrance only this door will do.
For He is the Way by which we must enter heaven
It is at the cross we must come to be forgiven.
Then as we look behind us on the lintel we see
'Chosen before the foundation of the world in Me.'
Though millions have come yet there is still room for more
God by His Grace has allowed us to go through the Door.
So come to that Door for it is opened wide for you
and taste the glories of heaven as you enter through.
The cry goes out 'whosoever will may enter in'
it is at the Cross where your journey has to begin.
All who enter the door shall be safely kept inside
and there forever with the Lord Jesus they shall abide.
Each one was chosen by God before the world began
Included by His grace as part of salvations plan.
Written after reading John 10: 7-10
BREAKING THE DOOR OPEN (revised)
on that day when i lost the key
to the room
i waited for some solutions
perhaps i shall break the lock
or smash the door or remove the door jams
or climb on the other side of the house
and enter through the window
but my arms for breaking
are weaker now
my hands tremble at the thought
that once in my childhood
i did climb a wall and break open
the window
and was so badly beaten
that i could hardly stand and walk
back home
i keep on waiting for some solutions
until i realized that anyway
this is not my room of destiny
and there is nothing
in there that is worth my trouble
and so
not being that foolish enough
(or hopeless to say the least)
i simply walked away
with nothing on my shoulder to carry
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sound Of My Footsteps
i open the door
i enter this house
its windows closed
its chairs set aside
along the corners
of the corridors
the sound of my
shoes making
footsteps
reverberates
in the living room
it is like the lonely
poem you wrote
for me
footsteps taking
the stairs up the
second floor leading
to an empty room
nobody lives here
anymore
you explained
one day
this was a happy home
until all of them
were shot
dead, by the lone
gunner,
what was his name again?
you told me once
his name is loneliness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In My Room
There's a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now it's dark and I'm alone
But I won't be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room
Theres a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now its dark and Im alone
But I wont be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'The Door
Where do we mortals find that narrow heavenly Door?
Through which millions of sinners have entered before?
It is found at the cross where Jesus was crucified
There for You paid for our sins, laid down Your life and died
With Your arms outstretched so wide and saying, 'Come to me'
For we find forgiveness by Your death at Calvary
And we see the Door before us swinging open wide
Allowing us to pass through the veil to heavens side
At the cross the veil in the temple was rent in two
We can still hear You calling sinners to come to You
For the door into heaven has been flung open wide
'Come to me you weary, ' we hear as we go inside
Calvary's cross is the Door through which man can go through
And there is no other way only this door will do
For You are the Way by which we must enter heaven
It is at the cross we must come to be forgiven
Then as we look behind us on the lintel we see
'Chosen before the foundation of the world in Me'
Though millions have come yet there is still room for more
God by His Grace has allowed us to enter the Door
So come to that Door for it is opened wide for you
And taste the glories of heaven as you enter through
The cry goes out 'whosoever will may enter in'
It is at the Cross where your journey has to begin
All who enter the door shall be safely kept inside
There forever with the Lord Jesus they all shall abide
Each one was chosen by God before the world began
Included by His grace as part of salvations plan
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
I Guess
i guess today when you arrive
you enter the room so tired you lock the room
and switch on
and switch off the light
you sleep
and tell the world for once
you have nothing to do with it
until the next day
when it rains heavily on your roof
and the water rises
and you ask it where is the door for your next escape
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love in a Life
I
Room after room,
I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her—
Next time, herself!—not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew:
Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.
II
Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune—
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest,—who cares?
But 'tis twilight, you see,—with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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
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Walk Into This Room
Dont let em get to your heart
Dont lose your diamonds swimmin in a lake when its (? ? )
The whole wide world feels like a shrine built to the worker bees
Who stole it from God anyhow
Lay it down child
Lay it down child
And walk into this room
Dont let em get to your spark
That little light in the back of everything that says this
Isnt for madder love
The whole wide world feels like a clan of mad scientists removing the juice
So they can freeze-dry you and put you in a box
Lay it down child
Lay it down child
And walk into this room all made with love for you
Lay it down child
You can
You can
Lay it down child
And walk into this room
A hundred candles to make the walls come alive
A little frank insence to sweeten the air just right
Now take my hand
And open the door
And open the door
Yeah, oh...
Yeah, oh...
Lay it down child
You can
You can
Lay it down child
And walk into this room
Walk into this room
Lay it down child
Just lay it down, lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down, lay it down
Into this room
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper Door
I step through the open door
upon a blank sheet of paper.
It's a room to dream into
but, it is often cold, and so damn empty.
It's cleansed and illuminated
by the presence of a holy melancholy.
Hasten the words come, and
take the loneliness away.
The pen is a train
passing through this small paper-room.
The thoughts are tracks
it lays down.
Picking up passengers of the night
it moves ever along.
The riders so briefly talk and sing
with such sweet stories to tell.
Soon all the traveller's will have left the station
and the room again, becomes Void.
I take my leave...
and softly close the door behind me.
- so many see the facts of life all about them,
yet are blind to the beautiful metaphors within everything -
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Eloise
Milky-Way,
Especially of the tribe next door;
But incomprehensive to your room is,
The sweet muse of love to your nakedness.
Eloise is ready to listen to me and,
I do have the works of love to share like 'Formula-1';
And of things to negotiate with you as well.
The door of my love is next to you,
So be very wise always to enter into it;
With pluckable and pleasurable things to share.
My love's window is open as well,
And it is with the gift of one's pleasure;
But i am the commissioner of love to lead you on.
The Milky-Way and it's molten sensations!
And of the love you are looking for;
But try to be very wise to enter the door of this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Open The Door And Enter The Room
i open this door
and enter this room
i do not have to tell you
that i am always here
the moment i enter it
i close it
and then i have my own world
that you my love
has not entered
dare not
for this is my world
where i am happiest
it is surrounded with
mirrors
each wall contains
my face
there are no words
or other images
and the floors sing
even without lips
i am happy here
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inside That Room
inside that room
clutters of old things
a conglomeration of dusts
silent stones
broken wedges
blunt shapes and sharp edges
inside that room
that silence we both shared
isolated moans
tongues lingering
inside that room
our memories
now the door is closed.
inside that room
the noise of insistence
the clap of a disaster
we disown
inside that room
the impregnation of tough thoughts
with soft laces
of ductile memories
inside that room
oh! there is no
us anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In That Common Room Where You Are No Longer Alone
your eyes are open
as you are fully alive when you go
back to that old house
by the river
named after
sin,
you open the door
your hands are too willing
and you enter
a dusty room
where you shall be alone
for a while
you smell sin there
and you
get to know it better
beyond its name and
place of origin
you identify with it
and there is no fear now
you talk for a while
and then
it urges you to go naked
and close your eyes
to enter upon
a world where everyone is
welcome
you drink and dance and
become tipsy
lights begin to play
and shouts of joy are heard
in this totally
transformed world
you are not alone now
in this indulgence
you have become counted
without
any hesitation
your mind explodes into
four seasons
compressed in time
and the guarantee of
total satisfaction is handed to you
like a key to
your permanent room
since then
you are so alive
and death has become
too irrelevant
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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