Karisa Brown
Karisa Brown
5 days ago

Hounds curl up against my throat
Like a sinking anchor
Going under!?
He cares again to whisper

Silent sweet satanic hummmms
None like other ones
None like ever before

He wrestles me down
Bellowing screams inside my
Belly

Eyes a flutter
Body transcendent
The fear too highly grounded
To ever lift up to another
As I had before

Come sit beside
The open door
Devilish curiousity
Takes over me
As it had
Many moons before

Wondering
Giving
Impatiently ashamed
Too scared
Curiosity core

Release the inner beast
Drums hummms of virgin beginnings
into the wild nature of the earth

Calling you down
Below your very own surface
A small light
You will always hold
To the sounds
Of wanting more

Religious frustrations
A hideaway oasis

Laughter unknowing
Face unshowing

#dark   #doors  
Delta Swingline
Delta Swingline
6 days ago

Don't get me wrong, I like elevators as much as the next guy. But there's always been something about stairs that just interests me in a way elevators can't.

If you've ever watched me climb a flight of stairs, I usually skip every other step. Mainly to save time because I live life too fast, climbing stairs so I could slow life down somewhere else.

I have this one staircase where all my friends hang out, less than 10 steps with a door at the top. That door wasn't opened very often, we called it the -- "Suicide Door". Only to find that it was a room where there were tons of stacked boxes willed with paper. But we still hung out on that staircase anyway.

Lately, the conversations that take place on those stairs are less than amusing, we don't laugh about how stupid people are. Rather we rant about who we want to kill in this world, and who's mad at who for thier gender or religion, I don't feel safe there anymore.

I fear if I say anything that I'll be shut down because I don't like people's use of "free speech" when it's used to put people down. And yes, I know, I'm not innocent here. There are conversations I regret saying that I have left on that staircase.

We don't talk about those conversations because we know out opinions are still changing. I may not remember any of this when it's finally over.

We don't talk about conversations we had behind closed suicide doors. But we never talk about the ones we had on the staircase below it. Sometimes that door seems like it's locked forever, and we choose to believe that our staircase leads to nowhere.

I miss the way thing used to be, when conversations weren't poisonous to those who heard the even by accident.

It makes me want to take elevators with strangers. Sure, it would be awkward, but at least nobody would want to rant about people to a bunch of strangers.

I sat by the stairs again. All my friends were there. But the school bells ring and everybody leaves. Nobody bothers with a "see you later" of a "c'mon, we gotta go, you'll be late". They just leave.

I'll stay there for a minute, gather my things, and wonder where they all went.

And whether or not they'd come back.

After all, the stairs aren't all that important right?

And these stairs, out of all staircases, just lead to nowhere...

I haven't been to that staircase in a while. Although the suicide door seems to call a little louder than it used to.
Delta Swingline
Delta Swingline
6 days ago

I have never been employed or earned any money for the work I do. And yet I still have a job to do.

For I am the door keeper, a guard, a lookout... a friend.

My job is simple yet complicated, for I have many jobs rolled into one.

I stand by the door and wait for people to approach me. Some talk to me, most people don't. Don't you know that I do my work for you? I don't get paid for my work, but I still think it's worth it to keep working.

I am the door keeper.

I stand by the weak, injured, and the broken with the strength I still have. When the people who I help finally regain their strength, they walk away from me, not even leaving a "thank you".

I am the guard.

When danger arrives at someone else's doorstep, I am there to see that they are not harmed, I will warn the of danger and guide them out of harms way.

I am the lookout.

Whenever you need me I will be there, I'll hold your hand and help in any way I can. I will always be here.

I am your friend.

I have always been here, but people don't see me anymore. I have become a ghost. I wonder what it takes to become alive again. But I can't just leave, whether or not people see me. I need to keep working. My job doesn't cost money, it costs lives.

A treasure more valuable than money.

I can't stop working.

I am the door keeper watching for their smiling faces. I am the lookout for their lives, and the guard of their hearts. But most importantly a friend.

A friend they might never see, but I'm still here.

I can't leave just yet. Because I still have a job to do.

I will continue to stand guard by the open door of my life.

You can't see into me
I have built these walls too high
I have learned to bar my doors
The words "never open up" are carved onto my closed fists
Have you felt the pain that rips your insides out?
The pain that scatters your thoughts
And holds you still?
Truly you have misunderstood me
I am not soft.

This is more just an expression of my thoughts, not meant to rhyme or even flow nicely, just needed to form my thoughts into words.
#pain   #misunderstood   #doors   #soft   #inside   #walls  
Xan Abyss
Xan Abyss
Feb 20

Ride the Serpent, baby
Into the Great Sea
Ride the Devil, Angel
Into the Deep Sleep
I came from outside
With a universal mind
And you and I can fly, my darling
We need only to die

Ride the Serpent, baby
Into the Great Sea
Ride the Devil, Angel
Into the Deep Sleep
My friends on the inside
Pour us fountains of red wine
"Alive!" She cried, and I was mystified
By the cosmos in her eyes

Persian Night, babe - fly with me
See the light, babe? Cry with me
I wanna taste your fearful tears
Show me your eyes and open wide
When the ancient witch appears
We can howl like beasts of the wild

Come back, LA Woman
I'm sick of doin' time
Is this the end?
Can someone find me reason for a rhyme?

"We are but clowns in a cosmic circus, degrading ourselves for a silent, uncaring audience. Their Collective gaze dances across our fragile flesh like so many knives on fire. We bleed. We burn. Our healing begets new ailments. We continue to suffer. We continue to survive. We never stop smiling. The circus is all we have. To lose the horror is to lose the Majesty as well. We must not quit. The lights have not gone down, and we hope they never will. We cannot afford to lose our audience. The Show Must Go On."

Persian Night, little angel!
Fly with me!
See the light, little angel?
Die with me!
I want you here, obscene
For all eternity
For I long to hear the scream of the butterfly!

So turn off the light!
Turn off the light!
Turn off the light and see!
Turn off the lights!
Turn off the lights!
Turn off the lights for me!

...Ride the Serpent, baby
Into the Great Sea
Ride the Devil, Angel
Into the Deep Sleep
Turn off the light and climb inside my universal mind
And finally we can be free

An homage to Jim Morrison.
#doors   #lyrics   #morrison   #ode   #rock   #psychedelic   #jim   #1960s   #homage  

heartbreaks are mere doors
we choose to open,
and love is but trespass
we welcome in our hearts

013117

#love   #heartbreak   #heart   #doors   #trespass  
Alia
Alia
Feb 17, 2016

He said: I'll never leave you alone.
And here I am marching on my own.

He said: I'll love you even more.
And here's my heart broken and torn.

He said: You're mine and I'm only yours.
But he's with her, he slammed all my doors.

#broken   #heart   #doors   #yours   #mine   #said  
Andrew T
Andrew T
Jan 22

While the light faded from the windowpane,
I tried to encourage and push you
like a door swinging slowly on its hinges;
But nothing ever made you happy,
nothing ever satisfied you--
as the cool air grew thick and muggy with warmth,
you stomped on top of the floorboards,
which concealed my wounds, my scars, the bruises
I would never let anyone examine.

We struggled to get on the same page,
couldn't even reach the same sentence.
So when you screamed at me, aggressively and loudly,
I gave you the silent treatment,
your threats unable to rattle me.

Why can't I stop thinking about the way you'd
dry the wet off your back with a bath towel?
Don't you miss how I would blow your belly button,
or how you would moan softly as I scratched your back
with my guitar pick?

The cinema plays homevideos of the two of us
laughing at the drunk girl who wrecked her bumper
on the parking space concrete, and the two of us
holding each other's hands at the John Mayer concert.

A nook, a camera, a pair of sunglasses,
a Michael Kors purse, an emerald bracelet;
gifts to show you I cared, to show you I wanted
more than just one night cuddling in
your younger sister's apartment.

F. Scott Fitzgerald died in his forties,
holding a wine bottle in his hand like a newborn,
as his wife Zelda built a fire pit
and burned his stories, page after page, until
the characters twisted and rolled into ash and charcoal.

Are we the writers?
Or are we the characters?

Tell me you don't love me anymore,
so I could finally close the door shut.
Don't leave me voicemails, or send me text messages
with emojis and memes.

I remember we would cruise around Maryland
and Virginia, in my dad's silver sedan,
blasting music and smoking ganja.

But now we're swimming
in the deep end of the swimming pool.
You're wearing a life vest and I'm trying to keep afloat,
as the strong water hits my chest,
and the cold chills my bones.

You are Kate Winslet,
and I'm Leonardo DiCaprio
giving you the inflatable killer whale,
so that you could stay above water,
as I slip under the current of our decaying memory,
the years we've lost,
and the time which we'll never regain.

The door is closing on me
and everything darkens from the lights
to your face.

And I know now, that a piece of my heart
sits at the bottom of your mason jar,
like a corroded anchor
dug deep in the floor of the ocean.

Keep it,
and whether you come inside the house,
or walk out to the driveway,
close the door
like eyes
shutting for the last time.

#the   #doors   #houses   #cinema   #movies   #pages   #mason   #leo   #kate  

Once again I'm left with a scattered heart, but i'm not looking at this as a bad thing. I see it as a chance to grow, and to learn. There are so many opportunities that await me in the future. My goal now is to work on bettering myself. I feel change coming on, and i'm excited. I feel like nothing can stop me now, I refuse to hold myself back from my goals. At first it was hard, but i'm happier now than I was back then. Time heals everything, but it also opens endless amounts of opportunity.

This isn't poetry, it's just something that i felt, so i posted it somewhere. Thanks for reading it, if you take the time to.
#hope   #happy   #doors   #new   #beginnings   #open   #opportunity  
Jessica Roxana
Jessica Roxana
Dec 23, 2016

in and out doors, i go
when the shadows show, i turn
stuck in an elevator, that keeps going up
let me out, bring it to a complete stop
the light seems to follow me
as i seek to find peace
crawling through the snow
rain falls upon my skin
here i go, here i will sleep

inspired by radio head's new song "daydreaming"
#love   #life   #sleep   #rain   #doors   #skin   #snow   #shadows   #daydreaming   #elevator  
 
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