The Eternal Search
MY little maiden two years old, just able
To tower full half a head above the table,
With inquisition keen must needs explore
Whatever in my dwelling hath a door,
Whatever is behind a curtain hid,
Or lurks, a rich enigma, 'neath a lid.
So soon is the supreme desire confessed,
To probe the unknown! So soon begins the quest,
That never ends until asunder fall
The locks and bolts of the Last Door of All.
poem by William Watson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
One Knock Two Knocks
One knock, Two knocks
Who's at the door?
Come out once more
One knock, Two knocks
Who's at the door?
Come out and see for sure
A world melts, as one developes
A world ends, as one begins
One Knock, Two knock
Who's at the door?
Open it once more
One Knock, Two knock
Who's at the door?
Come closer and it just might poor
Devastation has come to me.
I hear it like the knocking
The ground is rocking
Given the eyes of a blind man I once again can see
With wings I rise and soar.
Thoughts with clarity I explore
Got to get a better view, maybe from an enormous mountain up so high
Focus on the crystal ball, reading a fortune from the sky
Oh such, such pretty pretty ball
Just let it fall, down to a place full depravity, and derogation
With one Revelation after another they come
knocking knocking on my door
Will I answer, oh will I answer
Only if I must
And its forever open with one fell gust
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Door To Door
All us angels wearing studs
Yeah, plastic mouth melts in the sun
Oo, running colors everyone
Cause were all in prison having fun
Oh, perfect pictures hang around
Well, delusions swing you up and down
Well fall out windows climb up trees
Im lookin for tranquillity
Hmm, got your, o locks and chains
Well, still gonna blow your brains out
Those locks and chains
No, nah, never felt like a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Oo yeah, I never felt like a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Oo, yeah you got your herds of people choosing arms
Gonna keep us all in mass alarm
Oh, murder movies make your day
Ah, ah, living in the usa
Cracked up people on the edge
They got no heroes got no bread
Oh, get the jitters get the shakes
Lookin like (? ) the final take
Ooh, well locks and chains
Gonna protect you
Well locks and chains
Dont feel no more
Never felt a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Oh, never felt a dream like you before
(ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Ha- shh, oo
Yeah locks and chains
Well gonna blow your brains out?
Yeah locks and chains
Cant feel no more
Never felt a dream like you before
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door
Uh well I never felt a dream like you before
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Oo, even knocking door to door
Oh, livin in a dream is all the same
Ah, yeah livin in a dream is a-all the same
Oh never felt a dream like you before
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Even knocking door to door (door)
Door to door
song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want to Know
There is too much I can not ignore.
Too much beyond my open door,
I explore to have those unknowns shown.
I can not sit...
Just to imagine what exists.
Or to hear from others...
From their point of view.
As they experience what it is,
I too wish to do!
There is too much I can not ignore.
Too much beyond my open door,
I explore to have those unknowns shown.
And my mind will not leave me alone...
Until my curiosity satisfies that quest in me.
There is too much I can not ignore.
Too much beyond my open door,
I explore to have those unknowns shown.
I want to know...
More of this life God has gifted.
I want to know...
And not inflict upon myself limits!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Right
Looking out
To the hills, to the setting sun,
I feel a cold wind
Bound to come;
Another change,
Another end I cannot see,
But your faithfulness to me
Is making it all right.
I fall down on my knees;
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
Years of knockin on heavens door
Have taught me this, if nothing more,
That its all right, what may come.
Ive heard it said,
When the rivers running high,
You get to higher ground or you die.
Well, muddy waves of pain
Washed over me,
And it only made me see,
Its gonna be all right.
I, I fall down on my knees;
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
Years of knockin on heavens door
Have taught me this, if nothing more,
That its all right, what may come.
When will I learn therere no guarantees?
What strengthens hope, my eyes have never seen,
But it wont be long
Till the faith will be sight,
And the heavens will say,
Its all right.
(all right.)
(all right.)
(all right.)
All right,
I fall down on my knees;
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
Years of knockin...heavens door,
Have taught me this, if nothing more,
And its all right.
Whatever comes.
All right,
Fall on my knees,
Tell me that its all right.
You give me what I need.
(after all these) years of knockin on heavens door,
(years of knockin on heavens door,)
(its gonna be) all right.
(oooooh, yeah.) all right.
I fall down on my knees,
Tell me that its all right,
cause you give me what I need,
(after all these years of knockin on heavens door,)
Years of knockin on heavens door,
(its gonna be) all right.
Whatever comes, yes sir,
All right.
I fall down on my knees.
All right.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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An Ever Open Door
Desire to live, love and dream
Desire to desire more
Desire is the flirtiest whim
It's an ever open door.
Desire to touch you once
Desire to break into a dance
Desire to hold your hand
Desire to build on sand!
It's an ever open door
You desire and desire more!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Six Locks
Six locks on my door!
Why not just two or three?
You really wanna know?
I’ll tell you so!
why that works so darn well for me
I put six locks
all in a row on my door
But I only lock
every other one, you see
Because while a burglar thinks
he’s pickin all six
He’s really
always lockin three
poem by David Whalen
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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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There Is A New Door In My House
There is a new 'door' in the little boy's house,
Where there was not one before,
A new 'cat shaped' hole' in the kitchen,
a new 'cat sized' hole in the door.
'But what about locks and bolts? ' the little boy asked,
Tugging at his my mum's loose apron strings.
'To keep out ghosts and scary monsters',
'and all those horrible night time things.'
'We don't need locks' the boy's mum said,
'Its only cats that can get through'.
'But what about 'cat' sized monsters,
or ghosts of that size too? '
'Go to bed now', the boy's mum said,
'What are you worrying for? '
'It's ghosts and scary monsters mum
that would fit nicely through that door? '
He went up the stairs to his room,
And tried to get to sleep,
But was thinking of ghosts and scary monsters,
Not happy jumping sheep.
'Tap, Tap', he woke, that noise (he thought) ,
It came up from the ground floor! ,
A tap, tap, tap, at the cat flap,
A noise from the cat shaped door.
A shiver ran stright down the little boy's spine,
Is it monster or a ghost?
Shaking, he crept straight down the stairs thinking 'what would scare me most? '
He crawled right up to the cat flap,
To see what was at the door,
Was it the ghosts or scary monsters,
The boy was thinking of before?
He peered into the gloom of the flap,
He strained his eyes to see,
'What might it have been that made that Tap, ,
Waiting out there for me? '.
'Tap, Tap... Tap, Tap...
Again, the noise from the flap,
Tap, Tap from the cat sized door,
Two green and bulbous eyes were there,
That were not there before.
The boy sat still, afraid to move,
Chilled straight down to his core,
The eyes began to peer at him,
Straight through the cat shaped door.
Tap.. Tap.., Tap, Tap..
That sound again, just like the tap before.
What if this thing, can fit straight through,
The cat sized and unlocked door?
Slowly, the cat flap began to open,
Sweat rolled off the boy's cold brow,
Those round green eyes were now inside,
When a sound was heard....
'Meoooow'
poem by Alexander Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unenclosed
Fine lines
Passing through time,
Invisible features
Outside of the mind.
The door has a frame,
The house a roof;
Man craves description as purest proof -
At the core of it all: desire wondering...
does God have a name?
So go out, to the ends of the earth,
Pull the nails, and pick the locks -
With words travelled well, find...
God was never in the box.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Unlocking Of A Closed Door
Where does one go,
To seek with a teaching those lessons unknown?
And find that one who is secure enough,
Without fearing what is taught...
May leave behind that one who has brought,
Another to discover what the other had not thought...
From one known to be a student,
But who has shown a growth that was sought?
Where does one go,
To be encouraged to soar...
By one who had encouraged an opening of a door.
Where does one go,
To know someone else is willing to assist.
With an unlocking of a closed door both can explore,
And an obtaining of a knowledge...
Awaits and sits beyond it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Table
This table is reserved an invitation for two,
only one sits alone and the other chair is bare.
He waits and waits as the hours creep through.
Stares at the empty space and wonders where are you.
He looks at his watch as another hour ticks by,
looks at the door to see who is coming through.
He feels eyes staring, probably wondering whom
he is waiting for as the minutes turn to hours.
The empty chair remains bare
as outside the sun sets as night begins to call.
This table is reserved for two, but where are you?
He thinks of all the reasons why you could be late
for this most important date.
He has rehearsed his lines of what he purposed to say.
The box with the ring within his pocket stays.
Where are you he wonders, do you love him anymore?
The negative thoughts invaded his mind
as he waits looking at the door, just waiting for you.
Finally the waiter comes along and tells him they are about to close.
He gives one last look at the door, then gets up and goes.
The reserved table for two stands empty and bare.
Those who should have sat there are gone never to return,
and as the light go out the table stands alone and forlorn.
24 September 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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Hunger For More
How can anyone wish to go back inside?
After a discovery begins to connect,
Thoughts they could not get to think...
From an outside source,
Found that links...
Ideas,
Appearing that appeals.
And this process starts...
To clear with comprehension.
How can anyone wish,
To undo something like this?
How can anyone wish to return a gift?
One that begins to reveal an unveiling,
Of a thought that had not existed?
Or seek to reopen a door that has been closed?
To choose to refuse what has been exposed?
Knowing what one knows...
That allows a hunger for more.
For a darkening that stops a tease,
Baiting as it does...
The craving of a curiosity!
Who would want to leave 'that'...
If that was a possibility?
If one could,
Who really would desire...
To wish for less of an interest to digest?
Coming as it does to feed!
Who would choose not to adventure...
When the power of it,
From one does not leave!
How can anyone wish to go back inside?
Once bitten to probe a need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Night Begins
Lying is sweet repose behind the bedroom door
she waits for her lover at the appointed hour.
His footsteps are silent
as he creeps along the hall,
knocks upon the door and waits
for her voice to say softly come in.
Opening the door with care, he walks quietly in.
She rises to embrace him
as now for them the night begins.
The murmur of raised passions
echo from them both
as they float along on a cloud of ecstasy
into a long night of passion
that ends so abruptly
as the dawning sun awakes.
26 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Aspiration
When I was daft (as urchins are),
And full if fairy lore,
I aimed an arrow at a star
And hit - the barnyard door.
I've shot at heaps of stars since then,
but always it's the same -
A barnyard door has mocked me when
Uranus was my aim.
So, I'll shoot starward as of yore,
Though wide my arrows fall;
I'd rather hit a big barn door
Then never aim at all.
poem by Robert William Service
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A Town
A BUSY town mid Britain's isle,
Behold in fancy's eye ;
With tower, and spire, and civic pile,
Beneath a summer sky :
And orchard, garden, field, and park,
And grove, and sunny wall ;
And ranging buildings, light and dark,
As evening shadows fall.
Then listen to the ceaseless din
Of hammer, saw, and crane ;
And traffic passing out and in,
From alley, street, and lane.
The sound, without a pause between,
Of foot, and wheel, and hoof ;
The manufacture's loud machine
From yonder lengthened roof.
And children at their evening sports,
Parading to and fro ;
Assembled in the quiet courts
Of yonder cottage row.
Gay streets display their shining wares
To every roving eye,
As eager in their own affairs,
The busy tribes go by.
And ah ! what varied forms of woe,
What hope and fear are found ;
What passions rise, what scandals grow,
Within this narrow bound !
To pass the peaceful dwellings by,
No stranger eye might guess
Those scenes of joy and agony,
Of discord and distress.
Pain writhes within those stately walls ;
Here pallid want hath been ;
That casement where the curtain falls
Shows death has entered in.
The dwelling ranging next to this,
A youthful group displays ;
Elate they seem with present bliss,
And hope of distant days.
There at her chamber-window high,
A lonely maiden sits ;
Its casement fronts the western sky
And balmy air admits :
And while her thoughts have wandered far
From all she hears and sees,
She gazes on the evening star
That twinkles through the trees.
Is it to watch the setting sun
She does that seat prefer ?--
Alas ! the maiden thinks of one
Who never thinks of her.
But lively is the street below,
And ceaseless is the hum,
As some intent on pleasure go,
On schemes of profit some.
Now widening seems the stream to be,
As evening stretches o'er ;
Plebeian tribes from toil set free
Pour forth from every door.
A school, arranged in order due,
(Before the sun goes down)
Lady and lady, two and two,
Comes winding through the town.
And what drives up to yonder door
The gaping crowd among ?
A wedding train of chaises four,
And all the bells are rung.
The laden waggon tinkles by,
The post is going out,
The lights are lit, the coaches ply
To tavern, ball, and rout.
Thus closed that merry summer's day ;
And would you ask me how
You might the busy scene survey,
And see those faces now ?--
Then hither turn--yon waving grass
And mouldering stones will show ;
For these transactions came to pass
A hundred years ago.
poem by Jane Taylor
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The Key
I feel I've been this way before,
Like stepping thru an open
door.
The door was shut, locked up
tight,
Darkness was there, instead
of light.
I looked and looked for the key,
Someone kept hiding it from
me.
Then one day, I turned around,
The key was lying on the
ground.
With key in hand, unlocked the
door,
Inside I started to explore.
poem by Heather Burns
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A new freedom
Everybody wants to fly as a bird,
Nobody wants to remain in chains,
Because everyone has a new freedom to live merrily,
But some cruel take our freedom away
And make us their slave.
Freedom is a god gifted gift
Which nobody can destroy from this earth.
Freedom is not made for rich
But for innocent poor dwelling in slums.
Freedom means peace and love
Not fear around us.
Freedom is what brings a nice smile
On everybody’s face.
Freedom knows no boundary
Of happiness and sprinkles its grace
On everyone wonderfully.
Freedom knocks at every door
And kisses everyone in the early morning
As a nightingale sings its lovely hymn for each person.
Freedom walks from door to door
To visit so that no one
Can be deprived of it.
poem by Tanya Naidoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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