Heart Unsnaps
You gave me a name without asking.
History of my pain
did not need any label.
I recalled only
the blooms of bougainvillea,
not the heat which gave them color.
My burned lips
remembered only the dew
and rear view of life.
The total otherness of the moon and stars
did not heal the scars.
My perceptions had
given me hot tears.
How the distance between us
created the schizophrenia?
The familiar laughs
have frozen after all!
In the middle of night I lie awake
to count the door
and the closed windows.
I listen to the moaning of walls.
My eyes remained half-closed in freckled sleep.
Heart blinks, unsnaps
and weaves a moon.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
At Night With The Rain
i have closed the doors
and the windows
and let go the curtains
touching the floors
i close my eyes and listen
to the rain
i dream of stars
i miss the moon
the walls close on in me
beyond the glass windows
to the sea
i hear the sad calls of the
night
outside the trees are blown
the black cat stares at me
and then some tears
begin to fall
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Late of Night
Always thought your promise was for life
I did not think that I
Would hear you say good-bye
And I always heard you led another life
I doubted every time
I guess my love was blind
Cause in my eyes
Love was always something magical
But the feeling is so tragical
And all I know is in love
The thing that I want most
I can't possess
There's only emptiness
In the late of night
Just before I closed my eyes
You lied
As you kissed me goodnight
In the late of night
Just before I closed my eyes
I cried
As you kissed my lips good-bye
In my eyes
You will always be the lucky one
Cause you know you'll always have my love
For all times until I die
Through the end I gave to you my best
You gave
song performed by by Toni Braxton from Secrets
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before Choir One Friday Eve
Before choir practice
before entering
the vestry door
you and Judith
stayed behind
and waited until
the others
had gone inside
and Judith said
look at those stars
and how dark blue
the sky is
you gazed up
at the evening spread
of dark blue
and stars
and moon
to one side
and you put
your hand
around her waist
and drew her close
and she lay
against you
and you said
I read some place
that some
of those distant stars
burned out
centuries ago
and what we see
is the ghostly glow
of dead stars
and she turned your head
towards her
and kissed you
and the pressing
of her lips on yours
and her hands
on your waist
and her 13 year old
breasts pushing
against your
14 year old chest
and the sound
of the choir starting up
in practice in the church
and the flight of bats
across
the evening sky
and she holding you near
and the lips engaged
and the eyes closed
and the breathing
taken in
coming up for air
and behind you
the aging graves
the tombstones
with moss
and half lit
by moonlight
and star's glow
and you held her
in place face to face
with your hands
upon the cheeks
of her behind
eyes still closed
in the land
of the love sucked
blind.
poem by Terry Collett
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On Some Refrains Of Your Heartache
back now
to some refrains of your heartache
days and nights
same faces
wounds and scars
a broken heart
trembling hands
lonely walks in the park
closed doors
sad moon by your window
a sad song from far
tears in your eyes
try again, try again
listen a bird is chirping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Scars, secrects someone else knows
My heart is bleeding my eyes are crying
Inside I almost feel like i'm dying
There are scars that just won't fade
But the tears that I cry can wash away
But I lock away the pain, put away the fears
Show you only smiles not the hidden tears
So what if I have a cut or two
Nobody notices especially you
You wouldn't notice anything was wrong by the way I act
Thats how I wanted it to be to all stay in tact
My secrects not spilled you know how I feel
But now you know it's going to be harder to heal
I didn't want to admit it but it was easier to lie
Hiding the hurt and emptiness to smile instead of cry
It's more harder now knowing someone else knows
It would have been better if I kept my secrets closed
You never would expect anything like this from me
It can get anyone can't you see
Not all scars show not all wounds heal
Sometimes you can't always see the pain someone feels
poem by Lisa French
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A Piori Love
In dreams / I formed you
In sweat / I gave you life
In tears / I gave you passion
In the heat / I gave you molten eyes
In the night / I gave you raven hair
In the morning / I gave you dawn’s smile
In the tremor / I gave you love
With the spark of infinity / I brought you forth
poem by Guillermo Veloso
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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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The Half-Moon On A Clear Crisp Night
The moon; god’s fingernail scrapes the canopy of stars.
The moon; half closed eyelid covers the dreams it spins.
The moon; dappled rays of silver dropped from on high.
The moon; cousin of distant light saught, not caught.
poem by Ronald James de Langen
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Red Is The Color I See
Red Is the Color I See
Red is the only color she can see
Dripping from the sky sliding from the trees
Red is the only color she sees
From the blink of an eye to a dropp of a penny
Red is the only color she sees
From the pain exploding within
To the drink being mixed with vodka or Gin
Red Is the Color Hanging On the Walls
Crawling on the floor and sliding down the halls
Red it the blanket that covers her a night
The color that hugs her skin so tight
Red is the Color that whispers death
That suck up the air and your last breathe
Red is the color tell her it will be ok
Just lay down close your eyes and pray
Red is the color that didn't make it through the night
Eyes closed no more memories in sight
Red it the color that hung on the knife
Gone was a life
No a breathe or a blink
The knife now lies in the sink.
poem by Jamelia Lane
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Talking To The Moon.
Here it goes every day every night when the moon is shinning the whole earth
The whole darkness of the world with its night
wishing she is like the moon shines the darkness of others' heart
Wishing that she is the candle of hope and strength of their souls
But every once and while she has to stand up for her self
To charge herself with the strength to go on
Forgetting the distance.. Forgetting the '' memorial '' of the distance
Trying to reach his soul by gazing up into it
Trying to reach what he feels by talking to the moon
Wishing they are in the very same page
Because the moon is the only way to herself to feel secure
To feel him around her..
To listen to his heart's beats.. to feel his arms around her
How much distance is cruel and how much the moon is a healer of the pain
How long every night she spends hours and hours trying to find enough words to tell him how much he is loved by her
How much he is missed … how much she wishes that he is talking to the moon far across the distance
Because it is the only thing that reunion their heart
poem by Sama AlNaber
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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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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
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Lord Of The Dance
I am the Lord of the dance
I dance beneath the sky
On a clear night
I can see the stars
Shining above the sky
I am the Lord of the dance
God rewards me everyday
I dance for my Lord
The sky is clear
The moon is shining in the sky
This is a beautiful fall night
The peace fills my mind and my heart
I feel at peace
It is good to know that God cares
I want to serve my lord with all my heart
I am God’s Child
I am gifted
God brings peace into my heart
I am the lord of the dance
He gave me peace
He gave me life
He gave me health
He gave me a spirit
He gave me a mind
He gave me a body
He gave me hope
He open’s my ear
And let me hear the sound of silence
He gave me eyes
For me to see more of him
I trust the Lord with all my heart
I am the Lord of the dance
I was born a Christian
And I will die as a Christian
poem by Aldo Kraas
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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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All Through The Years
Longing to sail on
Through the night to the stars
On until sunrise
Where the moon hides her tears
All through the years
If I could see the world through someone elses eyes
If I could see through you would I cast you to one side
And if you gave it all would I throw it all away
Like the leaves in autumn winds
From the window in the kitchen
To the fireside by the chair
Sat in familiar surroundings warm night air
Under the bridges that were burning
Before we reached the other side
All the feelings I remember I cannot hide
Not for want of trying
And if you held me here would the moment fade away
Into obscurity like the night becomes the day
For all the broken promises tell me where do I begin
To throw my caution to the wind
Longing to sail on
Through the night to the stars
On until sunrise
Where the moon hides her tears
All through the years
All through the years all through the years
All through the years all through the years
All through the years all through the years
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Straight Jacket
i am trying to shape
a world
with my own private thoughts
away from the mob
i am situating myself in a room
on closed doors and closed windows
except the light that i allow to enter
on glassy blocks
the walls will always be there
air comes through the ceiling
on tiny holes
i tried to forget viewing the stars
i must survive even without the light of the moon
it is less romantic
and i am no lunatic
but then she hints on what am i
saying: the fish is meant for the sea
the dog is always meant for a walk
the sparrow cannot live without flying on its wings
and she asks me: will you just be a poet?
or will you be the man for the seasons?
before she left, she left a note stuck on the fridge
magnetically: you are more than the fish, the sparrow, the dog
must i be? i sleep tightly like a straitjacket.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Comes The Night Of My Life
comes now the night of my life
a very dark night
the sound of the cat
looking for a mate
someone in heat
the dogs howl in the middle
of the road some footsteps
coming to the house
by the window
i show my sorrow
i talk about tomorrow
to the moon that somehow
pretends to listen
on the other hand you may be right
i pretend the moon is here
comes now the darkest night
how can a moon be a reality?
how can you be here with me?
to survive please understand
lying to myself is much fun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Windows
Windows open vistas for us
Windows - of hearts, of minds or of eyes
Windows - which might open outward
Or inward
They bring the light on the other end to this end.
Windows converse
They open the alphabetical locks of our lips
When night weaves nets of darkness on windows
Life-spans speak out in whispers from abysses of pain
Windows then perforce remain silent
Suffer days of tongue-tied laws
Nights of oppression
And epochs of tyranny
Windows are self same stories of dreams
Of centuries
Mute testimony of chasms
Court yards and ruined houses
Evidence of rusted eons rattling with exhaustion
in tyrant time's primordium continuity
Windows have the heart of a woman
They open their body's wings of each clime
With a little waft of wind
With fragrance, sunlight, rain or moon beams.
They blow away paper-light images
And waste away life in uncharted desires.
When butterflies fly in front of windows
Eyes glued to window panes become tearful
With noontide memories.
Evenings look forward to a wayfarer passing by
When they're covered with climbers
holding forth red and white flowers
They fill closed fists with the touch of fire-flies.
Windows often insist on being kept open
They're surprised to watch cloud, birds
And the blue sky's expanse
If they're kept shut
They're afraid of the life breath of
Walls and rooms getting strangulated.
They're afraid of dwellers forsaking their houses
They also feel life's desertion
They also feel despondent
Windows are human beings!
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir
Translated from the original Urdu into English by Satyapal Anand.
Copyrights (C) All rights reserved.
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Closed Walls
those closed walls so tightly pressed to my face
so thin i could hear through to the next room
but not thin enough for me to break free
no windows
nor door
i wonder how i got here
alone and frightend
at one point i once enjoyed
but now as i look at this room no bigger than me why would i
these closed walls must be speaking to me or im delousional
but they told me
once free you must change
change how you think
change how you look at things
change how you love
change how you act
for a momment i listened
but i knew i couldn't
i can change my outer apperance
but never how i think
thesefucking walls must think im stupid
i can think as i please
.
never come near these closed walls.
poem by Martel Alexis
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