His door
His door is a closed
it doesn't open to anyone
and tells the world he's ferocious
and tells me he's insecure.
His door has numerous bolts,
it has a big sign saying
LEAVE ME BE
and they do, believe me.
This door SHOUTS
in a deep, dark troll's voice
that has grown men weeping
and sirens blaring.
It says, 'you wouldn't want to mess with me'
while he hides, eyes shut,
his back to the world
his shields up.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Letting her go
The glass lies on its side,
as the wine drips down onto the floor,
the arguments slowly fade away,
she is slamming the final door.
She is walking out into the rain.
She is walking towards the gate.
She is ready to go...
When a voice shouts 'WAIT! '
He says...'I know I messed up again...
I know I cause you so much pain.'
He tries to explain... but... she...
She interupts. She tells him...
She is going to miss the final train.
She looks forward.
Then; she looks back. Afraid.
As she says goodbye.
He lets her go.
Although he could stop her
He knows he could try,
He decides to shut the door,
He doesnt want her to see him cry.
poem by Daniel McCann
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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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Love sticks on
If a door is shut
Don’t get upset.
Search and find.
There’s another door
Open, perhaps wider.
In our courtship
The door, don’t shut.
I want no other door
Even if it is wider.
No door is dearer than
The door of your bosom.
10-10-1999.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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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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Visits to St Elizabeths
This is the house of Bedlam.
This is the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a wristwatch
telling the time
of the talkative man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the honored man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the roadstead all of board
reached by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the old, brave man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
These are the years and the walls of the ward,
the winds and clouds of the sea of board
sailed by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the cranky man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
beyond the sailor
winding his watch
that tells the time
of the cruel man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a world of books gone flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
of the batty sailor
that winds his watch
that tells the time
of the busy man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is there, is flat,
for the widowed Jew in the newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
waltzing the length of a weaving board
by the silent sailor
that hears his watch
that ticks the time
of the tedious man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor
to feel if the world is there and flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances joyfully down the ward
into the parting seas of board
past the staring sailor
that shakes his watch
that tells the time
of the poet, the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the soldier home from the war.
These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is round or flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances carefully down the ward,
walking the plank of a coffin board
with the crazy sailor
that shows his watch
that tells the time
of the wretched man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Unopened Doors
Many doors of opportunity
remain shut through passing time.
You stand at them,
but they never open to let you pass through.
You try and try, but with no avail.
The door remains shut to you,
but you see other pass through it
and your frustration grows.
You bang and shout
and never anyone answers you.
The years slip silently by
from your youth until your old.
Each time you try the door
it refuses to let you through.
Even with more wisdom
it refuses to let you in,
but you don’t give up
you just try and try again.
More time passes
and you’ve lost the will
to want to go through.
You reach that point when you feel the battle lost.
Turning your back you walk away
to let the sun set on your life.
You feel you have nothing now,
no more will to fight.
Someone suggests a different direction,
a different door to go through.
You are hesitant
in case the door remains shut to you.
Finally, you try it
and are amazed to find
the door opens easily
and you can walk through,
but you keep remembering
the door that wouldn’t open for you.
25 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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Bud of Pain
Shut the door, shut the door.
Shut out the burning light.
Lock me in, lock me away,
away from eyes and sight.
Turn the world away.
Leave them at the door.
Creep into a cosy corner.
Bother me no more.
Alone, I want to be alone.
Alone, I need no one.
Alone inside my private mask.
Alone, alone, alone.
Turn me off, turn me off.
Switch off the flickering light.
Leave me be, leave me be.
I have no strength to fight.
© Morney Wilson
poem by Morney Wilson
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The Door Is Always Open
The door is always open,
there is a welcome
always in here,
so come on in at anytime
and we will raise a cup of good cheer.
The world can go on its merry way,
just pull a chair up by the fire
and warm yourself a bit.
There door is always open,
there is a welcome mat
and a friendly face
will always greet you
at anytime night or day.
As the door is always open,
you can come in anytime.
You will never leave hungry
as something is cooking
all the time.
So take up my invitation
and just come on in.
The door is always open
to welcome you.
23 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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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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World Behind a Door
The door creeps open to expose
A world that is unknown to most.
Maybe a child's dream or an adult's
wish finally coming reality, Whatever
The reason for the door appearing
Still startly us all and the answer
Will always remain unknown.
Behind the door lies a world
That could never be imagined.
The sky is an outstanding blue.
This world has water that is clear
And the air is warm and comfortable.
The world behind the door brings
Peace when someone visits it.
Worries and fears slip away
when in the beautiful world.
It never storms and no one
Ever feels the pain that
our world can afflict on us.
It would be a dream to find
The world past the magical door.
To feel nothing but happiness
And to feel yourself smile again
Would make you feel free in
The beautiful world behind the door.
Find the world behind the door
And see for yourself.
poem by Tracey Wynn
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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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A Little Bit Of Heaven
Written by richard kerr & graham lyle
The last guest has gone
I can tell youre as thankful as i
A good time was had by all
And a little wine
I know by that look
(hmm) youve got other things on your mind
And I cant resist that sign
So turn out the lights and close the door
We need the night to be alone
Shut out the world-just let it spin
Why dont we make a little bit of heaven
Just talk to my heart
(ooh) say the words that I want to hear
Darling, tonight I need you near
So turn out the light and close the door
We need some time to be alone
Shut out the world-just let it spin
And maybe well touch
A little bit of heaven
Oh---, oh, oh, hmm---
Shut out the world-just let it spin
Maybe well touch a little bit of heaven
Heavens right here for us
We dont need a mountain to climb, no, no, no
Theres just the two of us
And the love between the lines
Turn out the light and close the door
We need the night to be alone
Shut out the world just let it spin
Why dont we make a little bit of heaven
Turn out the light and close that door
Maybe well find a little bit of heaven
Turn out the light, baby, and close the door
I know we can make a little bit of heaven
Honey, turn out the light, yeah, and close the door
Maybe well find a little bit of heaven
Turn out the light and close the door
Maybe well find, oh, a little bit of heaven
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Repost Of The Past Poem
i step out of the door
from my dark room the windows are not open
it is humid and cold
i step out of the door the windows are still closed
i lock the door and step upon a patch of green grass
the dews are hanging on the blades and shaken
i look upon the sky
and there is this star still shining
despite the opening of the mouth of the morning
i was in deep slumber
i close my eyes
i see your face but i promise there shall be no tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fortune Teller
There's a fortune teller
that tells it like she sees it.
But how do I know that
what she sees is true?
Maybe it's all hokum
and then what will I do?
She tells me I will meet
the man in my life
that will sweep me off my feet
and make me his wife.
She tells me I'll have babies,
that they will make me proud.
She tells me she sees sunshine
and not a single cloud.
And so I feel better,
better than before.
But before I leave,
before I leave your door
Let me look into your eyes
to see if these are lies.
Oh fortune teller let it all be true.
My time is running out now.
It's all up to you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Lady’s Lament
Never happy any more!
Aye, turn the saying o'er and o'er,
It says but what it said before,
And heart and life are just as sore.
The wet leaves blow aslant the floor
In the rain through the open door.
No, no more.
Never happy any more!
The eyes are weary and give o'er,
But still the soul weeps as before.
And always must each one deplore
Each once, nor bear what others bore?
This is now as it was of yore.
No, no more.
Never happy any more!
Is it not but a sorry lore
That says, “Take strength, the worst is o'er”?
Shall the stars seem as heretofore?
The day wears on more and more—
While I was weeping the day wore.
No, no more.
Never happy any more!
In the cold behind the door
That was the dial striking four:
One for joy the past hours bore,
Two for hope and will cast o'er,
One for the naked dark before.
No, no more.
Never happy any more!
Put the light out, shut the door,
Sweep the wet leaves from the floor.
Even thus Fate's hand has swept her floor,
Even thus Love's hand has shut the door
Through which his warm feet passed of yore.
Shall it be opened any more?
No, no, no more.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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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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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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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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