The Jasmine Corridor
In all my lives, I never knew anyone like you before.
Woke up one day, swore I heard the sound of heaven knocking on my door.
And after all these years long passing,
Time to reflect, no time for wasting.
Walking down the jasmine corridor.
Reflecting echoes of quiet laughter.
In all my life, I was never better served than I was served by you.
And in my way, hope you agree I tried to serve you too.
Out on the headland I stepped once unsteady.
You there to catch me , I breathe more freely.
Hand in mine down the jasmine corridor.
Through all my life, I chased flitting illusions at a faster pace.
Never stopped to think: the moment was for seizing, had myself to face.
You made my bed to lie in, stately.
Mad cats, grandchildren, here more often lately.
The final view from the jasmine corridor.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Revenge
Pushed me off the dirty floor
You watched as my head hit the floor
You watched as I rolled round and round
You watched as I came tumbling down
You watched as I rolled down the stairs
You never wished me - fare thee well!
You watched as I got on my feet
I ran towards her and she started to plead, no!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
Far below original sin
Far below the state Im in
Far below malicious crimes
Far below her for the time
Far below
Far below
Far below is the place youll go, ho!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
Oh went through the window, quiet as a mouse
No sound was stirring throughout the house
Id heard a noise that made me startle
But I kept on walking down the corridor
Yes the corridor
Yes the corridor
And there you were with a man once more, no!
Aint got time for what you feel
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again
You did it again
You did it again
You did it again and again and again, ho, ho!
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day
The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.
Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.
Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.
The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.
The priest makes the groom by seven steps,
Promise to guard his spouse in life's ups.
Splattering holy rice and scenty JASMINE,
All bless 'LONG SMELLY LIKE JASMINE'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-35
Yellow Jasmine, (Italian Jasmine,
Jasminum humile)
Atlast, I've found her
Long-lasting fragrant
Pentapetaled brighter
A Jasmine so anticipant
Yellowy, godly rewarding
Daughter of Himalayas
Willowy angularly branching
Shrubby with pinnate leaves
A Jasmine so anticipant
Of respect and worship
Inviting charm and scent
Medicative sure a godship
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The corridor is hardly ever found in small houses, apart from the verandah, which also serves as a corridor.
quote by Stephen Gardiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Fitting In Despite All Those Years
sometimes you envy
the monk in maroon peacefully
crossing the street
somewhere in Ho Chi Minh
or even an earthen bowl half-filled with water
with a jasmine flower floating
upon a very still world
you like to take the brush and some water colors
to paint all these
but it is a little crowded world you have there
there is simply no time for wasting
it's a fast paced lifestyle
the lifelessness of the to and fro
the unstoppable flow
trying to accomplish almost everything
without meaning.
somewhere in a dream
you wish you were the monk
or even
the jasmine
and then you hit your chest with your fist
convincing yourself that at a certain hour
you can be so foolish
still not fitting in despite all those years
'how can you be a beautiful jasmine in a concrete wall?
how can you be the monk in maroon in a public market full of
swindlers and screaming spice vendors? '
amidst the mess, in the middle of the crowd
how can you be a dream?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forever
The bright blue
folds open through the room’s window
and I see rows of purple morning glories
that shoots in domes up to the wall.
There are purple irises
that keeps butterflies busy
and bees turn around the roses
and I can hear
them passing outside
and the soft sweet smell of jasmine
mixes with lavender
on the fresh morning breeze
and the ginger golden Persian cat
stretches himself out long
on the wall
of the fish pond
where he lies
looking at the world.
Somewhere Sussa
(the big black dog)
talks grumbling with herself
and I hear Flippie
passing carefully
on her small paws
in the corridor
and we are safe
in our fortress
and your hand lies
soft and spoiling over me
and I hear your breathing evenly
and while you sleep next to me
and I could stay forever like this.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1. Sisterly Love
the indian woman is
a tormented soul
weeping secret tears
ink that writes lines
of anguish all over
her countenance
her large, sharp and slit eyes
pour longingly into the
the jasmine she strings
everyday for hours
in india street
pure, white, dainty
a softness and scent
that two days from now
will be nothing more than
a dehydrated mess
a mere sore to the eyes
a transience fills the gap
between the flowers
a string of luxury that helps
her to keep a sister close
to her hands, her heart
first jasmine, a sister's
smile, second jasmine,
a sister's promises,
third jasmine, another
sister's smile, fourth
jasmine.....every gap she feels
a loss, a love her fingers will no
more grasp and a sister
her eyes will no more hold
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carpet Crawlers
He returns from his mixed-up memories to the passage he was previously
stuck in. This time he discovers a long carpeted corridor.
There is lambswool under my naked feet.
The wool is soft and warm,
- gives off some kind of heat.
A salamander scurries into flame to be destroyed.
Imaginary creatures are trapped in birth on celluloid.
The fleas cling to the golden fleece,
Hoping they'll find peace.
Each thought and gesture are caught in celluloid.
There's no hiding in my memory.
There's no room to avoid.
The walls are painted in red ochre and are marked by strange insignia,
some looking like a bulls-eye, others of birds and boats. Further down
the corridor, he can see some people; all kneeling. With broken sighs
and murmurs they struggle, in their slow motion to move towards a
wooden door at the end. Having seen only the inanimate bodies in the
Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging, Rael rushes to talk to them.
The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor.
For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before.
They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door,
Where the needle's eye is winking, closing in on the poor.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."
"What's going on?" he cries to a muttering monk, who conceals a yawn and
replies "It's a long time yet before the dawn." A sphinx-like crawler
calls his name saying "Don't ask him, the monk is drunk. Each one of us
is trying to reach the top of the stairs, a way out will await us there."
Not asking how he can move freely, our hero goes boldly through the door.
Behind a table loaded with foo
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hole
There´s a sphere of emptiness in this corridor called life
memories and dreams are our reason on not
Watch us go steady through this corridor or the forest called death
I´ll strive and continue walking
With what you call evil and what you call good
I shall dress myself to the greater evil to devour the less evil
I shall dress myslef to the greater goof to strike the less good
What is it
Forgive me
poem by Makie Natsumoto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, "Keep me in your heart for ever." The jasmine sighed, "Alas," and dropped to the ground.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Drive On The Young Side Of Life
Your mother she protected you
And softened every blow
And brought you up to fear the worst
To be careful as you go
And the learned educators
With drip-feed [thrifty? ] facts to fill
You up to here with reason
Well-meaning overkill
If you find yourself a-growing
To be old before your time
Get off the endless corridor
Set your soul out on the line
Drive on the young side of life
When the pressure pains are building
And youre forced to join the crush
In the race to mediocrity
So respectable and plush
And while the child within is raging
And threatens to break out
Get off the endless corridor
Make a timely turnabout
Drive on the young side of life.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no doubt that the exceptional structure of a jasmine flower is part of the complete victory of beauty on earth;
I collect jasmine flowers every morning and put them in my soul.
Camelia Oprița in Universul Iubirii (13 July 2007)
Submitted by Alexander
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Money
Make your mind up
Whos going to think for you?
When the time comes
Youll have to see it through
Use your instinct
And take a risk or two
Dont you worry
cause youll know what to do
You can give so
Much to me
But I dont want it
I will be free
For the last time
Im going out the door
You dont need me
To help you anymore
Eyes wide open
I see its different now
Keep your comfort
Ill get along somehow
You can have my money
I dont need it anymore
I dont need your invitation
Down that lonesome corridor
Breakdown
You can have my money
I dont need it anymore
I dont need your invitation
Down that lonesome corridor
Nothing good comes easily
Count the cost, I will be free
You can scream and disagree
I dont want it - I will be free
You can have my money
I dont need it anymore
I dont need your invitation
Down that lonesome corridor
Nothing good comes easily
Count the cost, I will be free
You can scream and disagree
I dont want it - I will be free
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monkey in Hospital
Now buildings have automatic sliding gates,
Sense creatures to automatically operate;
A monkey opened Delhi hospital gate to enter
Used to take meals and went out same manner.
One day while stealing meal he was caught,
In hurry to run away, way to gate he forgot;
He jumped ward to ward, corridor to corridor,
But could not locate the passage to out door
Then he was chased by the kitchen crew
Before he could be set free, hurt a few;
With great difficulty the things normalised,
The injured staff members got hospitalised.
An ape entered my home, found door unbolted
Took eatables from fridge, children got jolted;
Municipality, unable to control animals on tree
They can jump here and there and easily flee.
Need to think designing a device or facility-
In the world there are also naughty monkeys.
- S. D.Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Le Roy Goldman
"What will you do when you come to die,
If all your life long you have rejected Jesus,
And know as you lie there, He is not your friend?"
Over and over I said, I, the revivalist.
Ah, yes! but there are friends and friends.
And blessed are you, say I, who know all now,
You who have lost, ere you pass,
A father or mother, or old grandfather or mother
Some beautiful soul that lived life strongly,
And knew you all through, and loved you ever,
Who would not fail to speak for you,
And give God an intimate view of your soul,
As only one of your flesh could do it.
That is the hand your hand will reach for,
To lead you along the corridor
To the court where you are a stranger!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More Than Life (The Street Leads You To Me)
On and off like echoes, Needs are
Down and Up like life, wishes can be
Worst and worthy like death, time is
Good but dull as distance, my life can be
What I want is more than laughter
The pain that comes at the moment
And goes tomorrow when you are near
The sun on your face lights up my heart’s darkness
The touch on your fingers comforts my soul and I know
What I want is more than laughter
Standing alone thinking of these words
Shame of this life felt by this body of mine
Shows me the bottom of needs I have
Sheared my fears off my face and I knew that
What I wanted was more than laughter
No meaning of this breath I breathe
No reason to live if I’m always afraid of the dark
No cause of the charisma if I’m lonely
Now and then I feel the air and breathe since
What I want is more than laughter
Tears fall but love fills in
Light leads but love lays in my soul
End dies in the eyes of today’s love
When you tell that you love me then I knew
What I want is more than laughter
What I want is you to notice me tonight
What I want is a smile on your face today and forever
What I want is you to hold me just tonight
What I want is the air I breathe holding on our fate
What I want is you to love me endlessly
poem by Keith Anastase KAMOSO
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Seeking Permission...
May I seek
Your permission
To build my castle
Of fantasies
That houses you?
The castle may
Crumble down
Let it be...
From the debris
Will I quickly build another
Binding every wall
With my precious tears
Copiously shed
In the silence of
Several vacant nights
I'll roam from room to room
From corridor to corridor
Its every length and breadth
Day and night
The walls resonating
With your name
My heart repeats
The castle recharges me
It's my life-line, you see...
Do permit me...
11Sep2011
07.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ottoman
At the foot of my parents bed was an ottoman,
it was old fashioned, but solid and sound.
My father said it had been locked for a reason,
to stop children from nosing around.
This unusual ottoman kind of haunted me
and I was curious to look inside.
One morning I found a key in the green house
and it looked like the ottoman’s size
Within minutes I was face to face with the ottoman,
the key turned the lock, so I took a peek.
A burning light shone at the bottom of a stairway;
so this was the secret my father wished to keep.
My burning curiosity had got the better of me,
so I lifted the lid wider and got inside.
Down the steps I ventured with caution,
my ears twitching, and eyes open wide.
The steps led down a narrow spiral staircase,
which met a corridor, with a door at the end.
Behind the creaky door was another corridor
and a wooden stairway which I did ascend.
This led me back up to the ottoman,
which was strange, but had to accept.
I decided to mull this over in my bedroom,
but someone was sleeping, so out there I crept.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw myself sleeping,
but then my father called me down for tea.
He and mum smiled, and dad ruffled my hair,
it was then that I came face to face with me.
I ran from the kitchen, up to my parent’s bedroom;
into the ottoman, and returned the way I came.
Everyone was sitting down for tea when I joined them
and dad knew, that I wouldn’t be disobeying him again.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Summer Breeze
See the curtains hanging in the window
In the evening on a Friday night
A little light shining through the window
Lets me know that everything's alright
Summer breeze, well it makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowing through my, makes me feel it right
Making me feel, making me feel fine
Makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Oh sweet days of summer, the jasmine's in bloom
July is dressed up and playing her tune
And when I come home from a hard day's work
And you're waiting there, yes you're waiting there
Without A care in the world
I see the smile awaiting in the kitchen
Food's cooking and a place there for two
I see the arms that reach out to hold me
In the evening when the day is through
Summer breeze, well it makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowing through my, making me feel right
Making me feel, making me feel fine
Makes me feel right
Blowing through the jasmine in my, blowing blowing(x5)
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hint Of Jasmine
The hint of jasmine
seeped through the broken pane
for the occupant within.
Those that walked the corridors
on their endless trek
searching for their lost loves
they never wanted to let go.
The yawn of a door opening
beckons someone in
then the click of it closing
shows that they are gone again.
Still the occupants wander
on their endless trek
as the hint of jasmine
lingers in the air.
14 October 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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