Empty Spaces
In a room long left vacant, he sits at the window looking out, cobwebs adorn the room like Christmas decorations. The window glass dirty from neglect.
In his reverie he hears the joy now past, sounds of fun and laughter. Long gone but not forgotten.
A movement in the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a reflection in the window pane, but he learnt long ago not to focus on them as they would vanish.
Darkness falls and the moon rises over the garden and casts it glow on her face, she has returned to him again this evening to bestow her smile on him, her lips move, no sound, but words perfect, fall upon his ears.
Without him turning she stands beside him, slips her hand in his, just to let him know.
poem by Robert Green
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Related quotes
The Case Of The Window Pain
an astute answer
discerning shrewd
would surely mention
this wit must be
personification
of a window pane
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is shamed
perhaps the window is dirty
as for the window pain
perhaps the glass is cracked
small large cracks streaked
as for the window pain
perhaps cricket ball punctured
victim of circle game holed
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is broken
glass shards bear crime witness
as for the window pain
perhaps window frame rots
an old window in house derelict
as for the window pain
perhaps the window witnesses
child abuse domestic scenes violent
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beaten Track
Lying in a trance on a rocking chair,
In the living room of my quiet home,
The buzzing sound of a fretful bee,
Woke me up from my pleasant reverie.
Again and again the droning hiss,
Fell faintly in my vacant ear.
It came so close from the window sill,
Fastened tight with glass shutters.
On looking up, I chanced to glance,
A little fly that reeled around,
Trying in vain to find its way,
Through the narrow slit, into the open sky.
For the poor insect trapped inside,
It was all a matter of live or die,
Again and again it beat so hard,
Against the glass window that lay ajar.
I watched lazily its poignant tussle,
To get away or to stay asunder.
Desperate between life and death,
It mustered all its remaining strength.
Try hard and try again,
Was all that what it dared to do,
And every feat converged on -
Getting out through the window pane.
Alas! Across the room, quite close,
Lay open the door, it never did see,
With hurdles none to block its way,
Or hinder it in its forward flight.
Had it taken a different course,
It could dart out into the world it sought,
And spared the strength it burnt in vain,
In the frenzied move to set it free.
By treading through the beaten track,
We might perish like the trapped fly.
For reaching out into wider skies,
We may take as well a different route.
poem by Valsa George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside Your Window
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I feel the seconds slowly pass,
Whilst you I anxiously await.
And behind the glowing glass;
I glimpsed a fading candlelight.
And I with hope was filled and so:
Wished I for love and life this night.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I see through the looking glass,
To find my missing soulmate.
And when the light finally flew;
When darkness swamped the room:
A wide smile on my face drew;
And waited I for you to bloom.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I feel my feelings all amass,
As I your beauty contemplate.
Seconds felt forever;
Nor beauty I did see.
All alone my eyes did glitter;
Whilst wondering where you would be!
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I walked on in your impasse;
Wishing it's not yet too late.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I lonesome stood for long alas!
And didn't notice your window grate.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I tried to drag out of that morass,
Myself; and my lost senses locate.
Outside Her Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I watched my heart swiftly by a lass,
Gets stolen; and did my soul sedate.
Outside Her Window;
I still pass by everyday.
Outside Her Window;
I can't just turn and walk away.
Outside Her Window;
I still have hope that she might show.
Outside Her Window;
I watch my life pass by so slow.
Outside Your Window;
And in the hands of fate:
I once awaited you alone all night.
But now I know: it's just too late!
poem by Danny The Dreamer Boyd
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Window On The World
A broken promise I kept too long
A greasy shade and a curtain drawn
A broken glass and a heart gone wrong
That's my window on the world
A cup of coffee in a shaky hand
Waking up in a foreign land
Trying to act like I got something planned
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
Don't let Mama cut those curls
That's my window on the world
In broad daylight that circus tent
Pulled up stakes, I don't know where it went
A closed dark room with a busted vent
That's my window on the world
I think about you and I'm countin sheep
I think about you then I can't sleep
I think the ocean is just so deep
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
The Queen of Sheeba meets the Duke of Earl
That's my window on the world
Down on Indiana Avenue
Where some Jimmy men, they play the blues
I guess they were only passin through
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
Don't let Mama cut those curls
That's my window on the world
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long River
Where the long river flows
It flows by my window
Where the tall timber grows
It grows round my door
Where the mountains meet the sky
And the white clouds fly
Where the long river flows
By my window
Theres a tiny bird that calls
And he calls by my window
Theres a lonely tear that falls
And it falls round my door
But when the sun is high
Theres no time to cry
Where the long river flows
By my window
Now if only you could see
The closin of the day
If only you could be
Where the dawn breaks away
By the white cascade
Oh down in the glade
Where the long river flows
By my window
Well when this land was made
It was made full of wonder
But one womans love
I cant understand
And Id give it all to you
If her love were true
Where the long river flows
By my window
Where the long river flows
By my window
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind The Window
Behind the window there’s a room
An untidy bedroom
A closed bathroom
A classy lobby
A busy kitchen
A tense meeting room
Behind the window there’s a life
A messy life
An ordinary life
A perfect life
A hard life
A fraud life
Behind the window there’s a face
A curious face
A lonely face
A smiling face
A tired face
A bored face
Behind the window there’s a story
A funny accident
A sad moment
A happy picture
A meaningless fight
A dull living
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Rain Keeps Fallin
I remember the night so well.
The rain was fallin but I just couldnt tell,
If it was you that was callin to my love-sick brain.
But the rain kept fallin on my window pane.
Out of the night the thunder rang in my ear.
I cant fight the feelin, lord, that brings forth my fears.
I wish it was over, lord, please stop the rain.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
Every night the rains on time, I can feel it in this heart of mine.
But I dont know what to do.
Well, I guess I could go back home, cause you know back home is where I belong.
But it just aint home without you.
And I dont know what to do, baby.
Well, I guess Im a looser but it just dont seem fair.
I lost all my life so tell me, why should I care?
The night that you left me is the night that it came.
And the rains still fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain ...
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
... keeps right on fallin.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said, the rain keeps fallin ...
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hurt Ego....
some windows really are kept open
even at midnight
the moon in its fullness has always been
that welcome visitor
that sense of mystery long gone
opening a window has always been considered
a healthy option
and people who pass the street look at you
standing by the window
in openness
you trust that openness being arms that know the value of embrace
can be redeeming
in fact some children who play in the yard
have a way of looking at you as their idol
they clap their hands and dance for you
it happens almost all days of the year
the open window appears like a warm smile on the face of sorrow
not everyone likes it though
there is a crazy old man and he picks a stone and throws it against
your glass window
your window cracks and your smile become a word
with double meaning
what damage must have the old man caused?
you should know, you have too
wisdom still lies with the old
their discipline is still in the stone
that leave a scar
on the shattered glass
the ego, this self.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Face in the Mirror
She calls out to the face in the mirror
And runs her fingers down the varnished frame
Then she lights a cigarette and inhales deeply,
Leaving the lighter lit and staring into the flame.
The sun shines in through the half opened curtains
It lights up the room but not her face
The mirror still darkened as the face stands staring
Darkness wraps around her, concealing the empty space.
She never chased the dreams
Or ran through the morning light
She was never heard above the screams
She just hid in the darkness of the night,
With the face in the mirror.
Now the sun's gone down, she looks through the window
At the faces and places and motion below
The face in the mirror watches her shadow
As she sits on the window ledge waiting to go.
She sees cars drive by with their bright lights
She hears voices carrying away into the night
The face in the mirror incites her to jump
And she leaps and falls downwards flight after flight.
She never chased her dreams
Now she's chasing the ground
She wasn't heard above the screams
Now she doesn't make a sound,
And the face in the mirror smashes.
poem by Mark Hopwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mirror
Standing in front of the mirror,
The reflection tells me to look behind.
The focus of the mirror is myself,
And also what lies behind.
I can move to the left,
I can move to the right,
But to the mirror I am always within it's sight.
As are things past.
I look out a window,
It tells me to see what lies ahead.
In the window, I do not see myself.
I see others.
I see nature's beauty unfolding.
I know I am there,
But I am just merely a part of the surroundings.
To the mirror, it is all about me.
The mirror tells me to worry about how I look.
The window tells me to worry about how the world looks.
The eyes are the window to the soul.
Not the mirror.
The mirror deceives.
To the mirror, everything is backwards.
As I look into my own eyes.
My soul becomes filled with self.
As I look into the eyes of another.
My soul becomes filled with life.
While the mirror holds my reflection.
It is the window that holds the truth.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Window
I was staring out the window
The whole time he was talking to me
It was a filthy pane of glass
I couldn't get a clear view
As he went on and on
It wasn't the outside world I could see
Just the filthy pane that I was looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I was never focused on just one thing
My eyes got fixed when my mind got soft
It may looked like I'm concentrated on a very clear view
But I'm as good as asleep
I bet you didn't know
It takes a lot of it away if you do
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
Because the fact in fact
Whatevers in front of me is covering my view
So I can't see what I'm seeing in fact
I only see what I'm looking through
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
So again I've done the right thing
I was never worried about that
The answer's always been in clear view
But even when the window's clean
I still can't see for the fact
That when it's clean it's so clear
I cant tell what I'm looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
I had to break the window
It was in my way
Better that I break a window
Then forget what I had to say
Or miss what I should see
Or breaking him or her or me
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Baby Girls Window
I've got you rainbows seen your sunbeams
I know a place where heaven breathes
And it's through her window
Your baby girl's window
I know you're happy where you are
Singing to the moon talking to the stars
Through her window
Your baby girl's window
There's fingermarks around her soul
But your laughter fills the hole
Through her window
Your baby girl's window
Aaah I wish you would stay
Aaah to see what she made of herself
People say you were gone too soon
I see your face when flowers bloom
Through her window
Your baby girl's window
I'm looking for the words to say
Something to take her pain away
Through her window
Aaah I wish you would stay
Aaah to see what she made of herself
song performed by by Robbie Williams from Life Thru A Lens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Quickened Pace Erases
Cleared are those images smudged,
From a window shut and long locked.
The stains upon the framed pane,
Seemed so fixed.
So transfixed by darkness witnessed.
Until a reflection had been replaced.
With renewed cleared vision.
To show a smile on one's face.
A defection traced but long accepted.
And believing to have affected from the outside!
Not true.
A fresh stride renovates.
And a quickened pace...
Erases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music
The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute.
From my bed I can hear him,
And the round notes flutter and tap about the room,
And hit against each other,
Blurring to unexpected chords.
It is very beautiful,
With the little flute-notes all about me,
In the darkness.
In the daytime,
The neighbour eats bread and onions with one hand
And copies music with the other.
He is fat and has a bald head,
So I do not look at him,
But run quickly past his window.
There is always the sky to look at,
Or the water in the well!
But when night comes and he plays his flute,
I think of him as a young man,
With gold seals hanging from his watch,
And a blue coat with silver buttons.
As I lie in my bed
The flute-notes push against my ears and lips,
And I go to sleep, dreaming.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The poetess, the moon...and the woods Pt1
A tear traced a path on her cheek in the moonlight
As her lips brushed the brow of her sleeping child
She stood still for a moment, with eyes closed tightly
Corners of lips pulled up… in a winsome smile
Strode heavily to the open window
stared out into the woods, soft lit by the moon
Then with a sigh pulled down the window
And quietly tiptoed out of the room
Glanced in at her husband, long asleep in their bed
And in her mind gave him a kiss on the top of his head
Then sat at her desk and finished her poem
Sat back and reviewed it… one last time
It was about her life… and about her home
And about the glow of the woods in the moonshine
She nodded her head… as if in agreement
With the words that she had carefully, composed
Her finger touched “enter” with determined intent
Then her whole body slumped in repose
From the corners of her eyes, she saw the moon rise
Oe’r the woods from out of her window
A teardropp fell softly to her desk as she stood
And walked through the door for the very last time
She looked up at the moon and then strode into the woods
She had posted her last poem…her very last rhyme
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Untitled: The stillness of the deceased loves the old garden,
The stillness of the deceased loves the old garden,
The madwoman who dwelled in blue rooms,
In the evening the still shape appears in the window
She, however, closes the yellowed curtain -
The trickling of the glass beads reminded of our childhood,
At night we found a black moon in the forest
The soft sonata sounds in a mirror's blueness
Long embraces
Her smile glides over the dying one's mouth.
poem by Georg Trakl
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I and Poetry
Want to be with you;
The desire suffers all day long
Amidst my routine work.
Meetings, reports, presentations
Keep you away from me like a distant dream.
You come and waive your hands at me
And I let you go.
Like the way,
You came to embrace me today;
When I heard the sound of first dropp of monsoon rain
On my window glass pane.
With the strike of Northwester,
When a sudden darkness dropped its curtain
In the meeting room
And a speech stopped with complete silence,
I could not respond.
Not that I could open the door for you.
I let you leave quietly.
I wait patiently till then,
When the tide of work mellows down
With its submission to the silent standstill world.
When the Moon might be in the sky
Or it is a Moonless starry night
And the earth goes off to sleep.
Shackle free, I stand before you
Pull you in close to my heart.
Your wordy body with touch of my lips
Becomes bright, more meaningful
Shines in the ocean of silence.
Oh poetry, my love
Look at me
Tearing the clothing of all day long;
Bare, a true self of mine awaits
To be with you,
To move into you,
To float with you in ecstasy...
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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The dove of truth
The dove of truth is sitting in our garden
Our gaze inside the room
Light and truth just outside our window
Our eyes see only gloom
The dove of truth is making dovely sounds
Our ears like better beat and drum
Love and truth just outside our window
But our ears are deaf for them
The dove of truth is still sitting in our garden
Her message clearly there
Love and light just outside our window
But our egos would not care
If just our ego could be silenced
The dove of truth is never far away
Truth, light and love is all around,
Our soul will pray.
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Dienda
How like the fall
To be gone in a day
Just as the leaves had turned gold
I was drawn to the sound
That the wind carried down
From an open window pane
And oh, how like a song
Or a sad melody
To linger long after the end
And the harmony rings
With the promise of spring
On a Brooklyn street
How like the fall to be gone in a day
Just as the trees had turned gold
I was drawn to this sound
That some fingers had found
But now the winter seems to stay too long
How like a song
Or a sad melody
To linger long after it's gone
Though the window is closed
And the questions it posed
On a Brooklyn street
How like the spring
To return in a day
When everything seems to be new
But here's someone who's hoping
The window is open
On that Brooklyn street again
And oh, how like a song
Or a sweet melody
To linger long after it's gone
Let the harmony ring
With the promise of spring
On a Brooklyn street
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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