(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands
quote by E.E. Cummings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
quote by E.E. Cummings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your grief....
Your grief for what youve lost holds a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look and instead,
here's the joyful face youve been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expand
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.
Your grief....
Your grief for what youve lost holds a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.
Expecting the worst, you look and instead,
here's the joyful face youve been wanting to see.
Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expand
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.
The Goal Of Poetry
it is simply to reach
out to people
with our verbal hands
these mental arms
and make them
look
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
d eeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeperdeeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
too, within
themselves
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Days Of Rain
AFTER DAYS OF RAIN
After days of rain
The blue returns to the sky
The world is fresh again
The greens deeper
Every breath has hope in it
And the sky opens and opens and opens
As if there is always somewhere greater and better to go.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Is Something In Us Always
there is something in us always
that closes and opens like fingers
there is something inside that watches
for love, and waits, and anticipates,
something that feels home, and
goggles for familiarity, and when it
finds it, it opens so confidently,
unmindful of any pain, expectant
of the excitement, promised and
betrayed, and mourning, and then
there is something in us that closes,
no matter what, it is still closed,
despite the death of time, it still
closes upon itself, curling, thickening
unwilling, wanting to die, but couldn't.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The Lord Closes The Door
(kinky friedman & jeff shelby)
When i find myself alone in my house and in my head
And i blow the candles out and i take myself to bed
And i'm old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
When sleep closes my eyes and sends me searching for you
And i'm feelin' blue as the sky without your love to carry me through
And i'm weak enough to be afraid but strong enough to let it show.
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
Baby i'm a gypsy boy, i'll ride the night until
I come to you like moonlight through your raggle-taggle window sill.
When you find yourself alone in your house and in your head
And you blow the candles out and you take yourself to bed
And you're old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Lord Closes The Door (He Opens A Little Window)
(kinky friedman & jeff shelby)
When I find myself alone in my house and in my head
And I blow the candles out and I take myself to bed
And Im old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
When sleep closes my eyes and sends me searching for you
And Im feelin blue as the sky without your love to carry me through
And Im weak enough to be afraid but strong enough to let it show.
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
Baby Im a gypsy boy, Ill ride the night until
I come to you like moonlight through your raggle-taggle window sill.
When you find yourself alone in your house and in your head
And you blow the candles out and you take yourself to bed
And youre old enough to realize, ah, young enough to know
When the lord closes the door, he opens a little window.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teint Neutre
WIDE downs all gray, with gray of clouds roofed over,
Chill fields stripped naked of their gown of grain,
Small fields of rain-wet grass and close-grown clover,
Wet, wind-blown trees--and, over all, the rain.
Does memory lie? For Hope her missal closes
So far away the may and roses seem;
Ah! was there ever a garden red with roses?
Ah! were you ever mine save in a dream?
So long it is since Spring, the skylark waking
Heard her own praises in his perfect strain;
Low hang the clouds, the sad year's heart is breaking,
And mine, my heart--and, over all, the rain.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Love Scene
he goes behind
her
kisses her neck
and slides
his hands
under
she faces him
kisses his lips
and pulls his
body towards
her
there she opens
as he closes in
she is shut like the night
as he appears
like the glowing
moon
there is rain
the leaves sing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Leap Of Faith
at the very moment when he gave up God
he closes his eyes
he leaps from the top of the cliff
feeling the wind and the hands of the clouds
he stretches his arms
his hands groping for nothing
his feet no longer trembling
he feels the ground
he crushes with an impact
that he had never known
there is only darkness
and then a faint light and then he feels
the arms of God finally embracing him
he opens his eyes and there he sees God
the eyes of true compassion
love eternal
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Things
it's so easy to miss
the things that really matter.
the small child looking up
at you, wanting to be
picked up.
the way sunlight dances
on rain wet leaves.
the person you bump into,
that smiles with that look
of something they want to say,
and you're in too big of a hurry
to listen.
the old man in his rocking chair,
waiting on you to call.
the dog that rolls over,
waiting on a belly rub.
the woman staring out the window
while you rattle on about work.
the ants going to and from their hill,
doing life's work.
the rose that opens and closes
without you taking the time
to smell, and to touch.
the hawk flying overhead
in the limitless sky.
the hand that brushes yours,
and you dont notice.
the voice on the phone
that wants to say 'come home'.
but doesnt because you're busy.
small things that come and go.
tiny universes, tiny miracles.
lost in the rush to.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Silent Hardworker
he arrives
one hour before the desired time
opens the door himself
without his aide
opens his computer
and tunes in for
some jazzy music
then to something
classical
he goes to the sofa
takes the pillow
and lays his head and
then he closes his eyes
this he does
privately inside
his office.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There is a Way
There is a way between voice and presence
where information flows.
In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.
One Day
The deeper and deeper I fall, deeper and deeper I seek,
Deeper and deeper I try and deeper and deeper I need
Forgive me
4x
And all I see is your face
2x
The deeper and deeper I fall, deeper and deeper I seek
Deeper and deeper I try, the deeper and deeper I need
The deeper and deeper I fail, deeper and deeper I read
Deeper and deeper I cry, the deeper and deeper I feed
Caught up in this game of life, me against you
Not doing what I should, just the things that I want to
So wrapped up, terrified of what I become
Outside Im laughing, inside Im numb
I cant see the light because it blinds me
Try to forget but my past always remidns me
Exposed, looked on by eyes of grace
Im so ashamed, dont look at my face
All I see is your face
4x
Get up by your strength, I rise up to thee
But Ill stay on my face if you will of me
Shape and mold me til your though
Humble myself, life laid down before you
I need your wisdom, so the truth I keep on living
And your love will always be a part of me
Cant do a thing, if I aint living for the kind
So dont ever leave or take your eyes off me
Its not who you are its who youre living for
Trials and tribulations will come
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beatific Vision
OH God! if I do my duty
And walk in the thorny way,
Will you pay me with heavens of beauty,
Millions of lives away?
Will you give me the music of heaven,
And the joy that none understands,
In place of what life would have given
If I had held out my hands?
I have lived in a narrow prison,
I have writhed 'neath a bitter creed,
And I dare to say that no heaven can pay
The renounced dream and deed,
But when my life's portal closes,
If you have no heaven to spare
God! give me a garden of roses,
And some one to walk with there.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Pray To God He Understands
Pray, pray when things go wrong
and fears around you
the love you have god will hear in your voice
look up to him
he always near
pray, pray go with your troubles straight to him
pray, pray for god understands
have faith
leaving all in his dear hands.
Pray, pray be calm and still
whatever comes must be his will
his promises like buds unfold
naught that is good will he with hold
pray, pray go with your troubles straight to him
pray, pray for god understands
have faith
leaving all in his dear hands.
Pray, pray till faith grows strong
and in your hart rings heaven's song
the loving god your voice will hear
look up to him he's always near
pray, pray go with your troubles straight to him
pray, pray for god understands
have faith
leaving all in his dear hands.
poem by Djean Whitney
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Our last Swim (R.I.P. Anne Mary Simon)
Our last Swim
By Renee’
For my beloved Anne Mary Simon
An Image of you in a cloud rolls by
The sky opens up, somewhere in my mind
A vision of you in a pale blue dress
Tears falling down, you took my breath
Memories of you...
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
The time is near, the time is nigh
To answer the call, to answer the cry
My head still spins, my body aches
The wind stings my eyes, my face
I look around, no one’s there
Will anybody notice, will anyone care...
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
I sit on this beach, your beach
I see the waves roll in endlessly
I hold you tight against my bosom
Tears fill my eyes as I see you running into the ocean
You are laughing and so happy
Memories of you...
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
It’s time to take our final swim
My eyes fill with tears
I can’t move, but I must
You are waiting for me
My legs ache, my body is frozen
You are calling me, “come swim Renee’ “
Memories of you…
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
I feel the warm ocean lapping at my feet
I slowly walk deeper, and deeper
Still holding you so tight
“Please don’t leave me! ”
I desperately cry
Stay with me a while longer
Don’t leave me yet
I am holding you so tight
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
I feel you touch my face
I feel your loving embrace
I see your warm smile
“Please Anne, stay a while”
I see the last glitter of your eyes
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Opening the urn, I see you leap and dive
I see you swimming around me
Why are you so pale and grey?
Then the reality strikes deep into my heart
This is our last swim together
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Why are you smiling?
Why are so happy?
Why do you want to leave me so quickly?
Why? Why? Why?
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Walking from the water
I turn to look for you
I catch a glimpse of you
You look so happy my love
Then my heart skips a beat
I see you wave then turn away
Swimming and having fun
Memories of you…
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Sitting on the beach
Watching the ocean
Knowing that you’ll always be happy now
I will visit you soon my beloved Anne
Soon we’ll swim together again
Rest in Peace my sweet love
Rest in Peace
poem by Renee' Stretch
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Asking for Roses
A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master,
With doors that none but the wind ever closes,
Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster;
It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses.
I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary;
'I wonder,' I say, 'who the owner of those is.'
'Oh, no one you know,' she answers me airy,
'But one we must ask if we want any roses.'
So we must join hands in the dew coming coldly
There in the hush of the wood that reposes,
And turn and go up to the open door boldly,
And knock to the echoes as beggars for roses.
'Pray, are you within there, Mistress Who-were-you?'
'Tis Mary that speaks and our errand discloses.
'Pray, are you within there? Bestir you, bestir you!
'Tis summer again; there's two come for roses.
'A word with you, that of the singer recalling--
Old Herrick: a saying that every maid knows is
A flower unplucked is but left to the falling,
And nothing is gained by not gathering roses.'
We do not loosen our hands' intertwining
(Not caring so very much what she supposes),
There when she comes on us mistily shining
And grants us by silence the boon of her roses.
poem by Robert Frost
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