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in this house of mine
there are many rooms and windows and stairs
you are invited
to take your rest and mind each piece
of myself
displayed and open for view
and even for touch
and even
for your tasting
not even for a moment but for a long time
for as long as all these shall last

but there is one door that you cannot open
one window that is closed
one room which is dark

there is nothing there except my secret longing
no one opens it for no one can
no one sees what is inside it for no one can

there is this fruit in my tree of paradise
that you cannot taste
and touch
and even see

it is only for me and i do not really like it.

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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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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There Is This Secret Room Of My Life

there is this secret room in my life
that will always be closed

it is mine, and no one gets in for in so doing
they shall find me

and if they find me inside this dark room
without windows

as they open and i am there and there will be too much light
to hurt my eyes

have pity
for i shall die.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The First Time You Denied My Touch

The first time you denied my touch...
I knew it was getting closer to over,
For us.
The first time you denied my touch...
Our relationship had ran out of 'fizz'.
What did it?

Did you know I was just expecting sex without love?
Then when I'm done,
I'm gone?

You knew that!
You had to.
I was taking you for granted,
And this you knew!

The first time you denied my touch...
It was me.
Not you.
And I knew it too well!

The first time you denied my touch.
I felt an ache slowly creeping up inside,
Of me.
I tried to breathe soft and slow,
So you wouldn't know it.

The first time you denied my touch.
My tears came to fall.
And that was not easy....
Faking a rest,
After a grueling crawl.

'Thank you.
But no...
I am not preparing for the Olympics.
I'm just laying here to meditate on the ground,
For a moment.'

The first time you denied my touch.
Love was not there to respond.

The first time you denied my touch,
I knew you felt it too inside...
I was gone!
And I knew it then,
I had been gone too long!

Too long for you to deny me,
Of what's mine!

'EXCUSE ME?
Repeat that! '

The first time you denied my touch...
I knew it was getting closer to over,
For us.
The first time you denied my touch...
Our relationship had ran out of 'fizz'.
What did it?

Did you know I was just expecting sex without love?
Then when I'm done,
I'm gone?

'That's not what you said.
But you're getting to the point.
I'm in the bed and going to sleep.
What you do with your needs,
That's up to you.'

We just need time to get our booty better!

'EXCUSE ME?
Repeat that! '

The first time you denied my touch,
I knew you felt it too inside...
I was gone!
And I knew it then,
I had been gone too long!

Too long for you to deny me,
Of what's mine!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quiero Tu Manos Por Todo Mi Cuerpo

If I could just touch you
Maybe I could breathe
But, because I can't touch you
It's like I can't speak, walk, or see

A look in your eyes-
One like NEVER before
It seems to just haunt me
Until I'm left screaming for more

If only I could feel you
For at least just a moment
Just one touch, one taste-
And, I'd make it mine and just own it

I promise one touch
Is all that I need
I'll then live off of the memory
Of that one touch-I plead...

But, if I do feel you,
I may crumble to the floor
I may extend a hand
And, beg for one more...

It is you that I long for,
As I desperately try to gasp for a breath...
And, I just need to feel YOU...
I now mourn your absence like a death!

And, while they try to bury you
Paralyzed-I fall to the ground!
I try to stand up, I open my mouth,
But, to no surprise-I can't make a sound!

But, I know that you feel it
No words were ever needed...
The memories they haunt me,
Like a button that's stuck, or a show that's repeated-

I can see you and hear you,
I feel the energy lighting the room
The darkness, the light,
A black rose in full bloom

I can practically taste you
It's the Laws of Nature we can't defy
You can't prevent it from happening
It's something that you just can't deny...

I know that you feel me
As I course through your veins
I could be the perfect drug
As I surrender-you hold the reigns!

It's a lust, and a longing
It's DEVOURING need..
It's obsession-I crave you
And, now you feel it, indeed!

So I reach out a hand,
You must embrace this fate
The air, it is thick
And, it IS getting late!

So walk with me,
If only one time...
Because you DO feel my desire...
Yes, we've cross that line.

© Copyright 2011 Nicole Settimi/Dark Lyric Poetry
Dark Lyric Poetry by The Dark Artist Nicole Settimi

poem by Nicole Settimi
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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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She is that sunshine.......

Walking on the beach, with a lazy style
she made it bend,
before i know, we covered that mile,
...'nd my heart was mend

There was a time, when i looked around
but it was all dark
zing in her eyes lit a candle light
made'em fade, the old scar

She is that sunshine,
I have'been waiting for a long long time
took me to, that'old world'of mine
She is that sunshine.......

From my window, when i look outside
the grass is green and birds are white
now my door open to that beach
where waves come around to touch her feet
everything that glows is never out of reach...

She is that sunshine,
I have'been waiting for a long long time
took me to, that'old world'of mine
She is that sunshine.......
She is that sunshine.......

poem by Mohit Dhawan
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No Attachments

the room where you sleep
does not take hold of you

your bed cannot be part of your skin
and your windows are nothing but

the ordinary closing and opening
of your day

you like a door that opens
to nowhere

you have diamonds in your hands
you spread them

in the garden and you see
how they all glitter for a while

darkness folds and
light of another day opens

you take a walk and whistle
you don't remember the color of the blanket

you forget what warmth was there on that bed
you do not care whether the windows are closed or open

you move to another house
and tell your stories all over again

there is no blink in your eyes
there is no stammering in your tongue

you do not tell them what you love
there are no hands too familiar to hold you back

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Secrets Of The Loving Person

the room where you sleep
does not take hold of you

your bed cannot be part of your skin
and your windows are nothing but

the ordinary closing and opening
of your day

you like a door that opens
to nowhere

you have diamonds in your hands
you spread them

in the garden and you see
how they all glitter for a while

darkness folds and
light of another day opens

you take a walk and whistle
you don't remember the color of the blanket

you forget what warmth was there on that bed
you do not care whether the windows are closed or open

you move to another house
and tell your stories all over again

there is no blink in your eyes
there is no stammering in your tongue

you do not tell them what you love
there are no hands too familiar to hold you back

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Mind Is An Oyster

The heart, can only be as open as the mind.
The mind, the creator of my world.
Not the world, but my world.
The mind, building walls.
Walls of fear, resentment and bitterness.
The spirit is trapped.
Bouncing from heart to mind.
Like a ping pong ball.
For it is my mind that is closed.
I listened to the teachings of other closed minded teachers.
They speak of a peace, they do not have.
The preach of a love, that they still seek.
The world is my oyster.
My mind is an oyster.
To find the pearl, the shell must first open up.
It is once the mind opens, I can connect to the source.
The source that tells me I am the true treasure.
I see so many closed shells.
For their pearl is as brilliant as mine.
But through the closed shell it cannot be seen.
They do not know they are just as rich as I.
So they try to take mine, because their shell is too difficult to open.
My shell is open.
I do not want your treasure for myself,
I have my own.
I am content.
I want your shell to open,
I want you and the world to see the brilliance of yours.
For it is when the mind opens,
Your true life will begin.

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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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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Touch

Martin page & jon lind
Youre shining like the northern lights
I hold you like a butterfly
Without you its a cold world
Give in to love and rescue me
All that I need is to get close
Both of us know we dont have to wait
Its getting late
Lets touch, touch
We can steal the night
I need your touch, touch
In the morning light
Why dont we touch, touch
Now the feelings right
Ill be there cause you know that
I believe
In your touch, touch
We can steal the night
I need your touch, touch
In the morning light
Why dont we touch, touch
Now the feelings right
Ill be there cause you know that
I believe
In your touch, touch
We can steal the night
I need your touch, touch,
In the morning light
Why dont we touch, touch
Now the feelings right
Our bodies become one
Weve waited such a long time
To catch a glimpse of paradise
The secrets that we keep inside
Are feelings we should never hide
Open our minds, open our eyes
Both of us know we dont have to wait
Its getting late
Chorus
And when I reach for you
You better let me through
Im giving good advice
Im gonna give it to you
Why dont we both give in to love
I wanna comfort you
I wanna pull you through
Ill make you close your eyes
Get you in the mood
Why dont we both give in to love

song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voice Of The Heart

(j.t.stanley/john bettis/b.roberts)
Sometimes when your world seems so big and real
You may run to the shelter of walls
Sometimes you may wish
You could be like your shadow
It fits wherever it falls
Whenever the nights too deep to find
And the morning is too far away
Wherever you are
Theres always a star to guide the way
There to guide the way
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We all will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
Tonight if a dream should come to your sleep
With a picture you dont wanna see
Go where it leads, from secret to secret
You are what you want to be
Whenever the sun refuses to shine
And you cant chase the storm clouds away
Wherever you are theres always a star to guide the way
There to guide the way
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We all will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
Living in a private world
There are times when its hard to break through
So dont give up
Each time you hurt youve got nothing to lose
Theres a voice inside of you
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We all will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
If you listen long enough
(listen)
If you dream it strong enough
(dream it)
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We will find the answer
In the voice of the heart
If you listen long enough
(long enough)
If you dream it strong enough
(strong enough)
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
In the voice
In the voice of the heart
We will find the answer
Like a song too long unsung

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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My Room Is Your Room Now

i

my room is your room now
and my arms yours too
my lips are ready for your
warm kiss and you may
have them as yours

ii

for this house is your house
my body is your body
for my love is your love
and my longing is your longing too

iii

this is my heaven and it is yours too
all the angels sing for you
and they also sing for me

iv

you and me in this loneliness
you and me in this hapless mess

v

so i am a tree, a house, arms, lips and body
so i am heaven, room, and window and door

so i am open for you and so you are here with me
you are my guest and i am your host

there is no reason for you to be angry
and if you happen not to like it here

you may leave early the next morning
and please you do not have to say an angry word

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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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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She Brought Them All Kindly To Her Grave

of course i know what coldness is
apart from something that is cool

when mother died her hands were extremely cold
for my hold
i let them go
there was no sadness
there was that happiness of letting her rest
and giving myself a little space

for tomorrow
when coldness comes again in an empty room
with open windows
i know not what panic shall be

my hands are extremely cold these days
when i kiss them
my lips become frozen
they break like glasses

i cannot speak
there is no way that my tongue shall give in to
words
it cannot face coldness in the mirror
of my face

since you ask and you demand an explanation i open my hands
and i let your hands touch them

i cannot speak i am afraid i will be cruel
you must hold these extreme coldness for a long time
so you can all let them go
like white birds against a dark sky

so you can also experience what happiness
i had when i let go off
mama's fears

when mama closed her eyes
because what was important she knew
need not be said anymore

she brought them all kindly to her grave

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Let’s create windows In our minds

Houses and buildings
Have Windows
Buses and trains
Too have windows
When open
Light and fresh air
Comes in through them
Allows foul air to go out
When closed
Prevents Dust and filth
From coming in
Let’s create windows
In our minds
Allow good thoughts
To come in and enlighten
The mind
Let the bad thoughts go out
Close the window of the mind
When bad thoughts
Try to intrude in
Listen to what people say
With an open mind

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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